#not like i live in a trailer park but i did get flowers while i don't even own a vase so i had to put them in a bucket and it made me think | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lesservillain · 10 months ago

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eddie munson x best friend!reader

summary: a previous request I had to write eddie and a weird girl!reader. edited just a tad for better flow.

cw: none

Eddie watched as you picked up another rock, examining it carefully in your hand before tossing it towards the lake. The two of you had been out here at Lover’s Lake for close to 2 hours now, skipping the rest of the school day after you'd asked him to bring you here during lunch.

The boys laughed at him for how easy it was for you to get him to do anything. But Eddie only gave them the finger as he trailed behind you out of the school. You never asked him for much, so who was he to deny you?

You and Eddie had known each other since he moved to the trailer park to live with Wayne. The two of you fell in and out of friendship over the years as you both went through the motions of life that got you to where you were today.

Sometimes you two were inseparable, and other times you kept to yourself. Choosing to be alone for weeks or months on end until you would knock on his trailer door like you'd just seen him yesterday. Many deemed you weird for your antisocial behaviors, including your own mother. But, Eddie knew you would come back around eventually, and he always welcomed you back with open arms.

With his legs dangling out the back door of his van, he brought a newly lit cigarette in his mouth to chase the joint he had just finished as he watched you do…whatever thing you needed to get out of your system today. He should have known you were going to want to spend the day outside with the overcast that had been looming. You hated the heat from the sun, preferring the shield of the clouds to cover you while you look for different bug or flowers or whatever you deemed worthy to be picked from the ground.

“Oh, Eddie!” Your excited voice had him jolting straight up, greeted by the site of your bright smile before him. “Look! This one’s got a fossil in it!”

Eddie opens his hand for you to place the rock in it. Your discovery stays hidden until you pull your hand away from his. And, sure as shit, there’s a print of some old ass plant or something on the side of the little rock.

“Woah, that's fucking cool,” he says, matching your energy for your find. He hands it back to you and you hold it in both hands, face beaming at your discovery. Eddie likes it when you get like this. The pure, unadulterated bliss that beams from you feels like it could cheer him up on his deathbed.

But after a moment, your expression falters. A crack in the joy of the moment that Eddie clocks right away.

“What?” He asks, looking at you even though he knows you wont give him eye contact back.

“Eddie, why do you hang out with me?”

Eddie reels back. It’s not the first time you’ve dropped heavy questions on him before, but he wasn’t expecting you to hit him with that one.

It was one he wasn't sure how to answer. Mostly because the answer was complicated.

Why was he your friend? Why did he like having you around? Why did it kill him when you distance yourself from him?

Okay, maybe the answer wasn't really that complicated. Rather, admitting it was.

Because the truth is that Eddie is completely head over heels for you.

Ever since he’s known you he knew you were it for him. You never thought that he was a freak for having a dead mom and a jail bird dad. Never judged him for being poor even for trailer park standards. Certainly never made any remarks about his music tastes.

He hadn't always been subtle about his feelings, telling you when you were younger that he would marry you someday. He still gets a kick when he thinks about the way your nose scrunched up at the suggestion.

He would pester you any chance he could, and Wayne had to tell him to not be so forward or else he was going to scare you off. Little did Wayne know that it would take a hell of a lot more than Eddie’s strong personally to push you away. He eventually realized how well you could meet Eddie’s energy, calling the two of you a match made for trouble.

Because Eddie loves when you would barge into his room without knocking to show him a painting you’ve finished. Or when you would tap on his window at 3 am because you couldn’t sleep, knowing he was probably still awake too.

He loved when you would join the Hellfire Club at lunch, telling Grant to move so you could sit next to Eddie’s spot at the end of the table. He loved that you wanted to be around him, and he wanted to be around you just as much.

“Because we’re friends,” he says casually. Your eyes lift to meet his. He can’t tell you how he feels. He can’t risk giving you a reason to run away from him. “It’s been like, what, 10 years now since we started hanging out? Why do you want to know now?”

Your eyes shift down, avoiding eye contact with him once again. You must be worried about something he thinks. He wishes he could read minds just to see what you’re thinking.

“I was just wondering," you say in a tone that tells Eddie you were not just wondering. "Don’t want you to think you’re obligated to hang out with me or anything.”

“What?” He shakes his head incredulously, laughing at the absurdity of your assumption. “I don’t feel obligated. I like hanging out with you. Promise.”

He sticks his pinky out for you to twist with yours, something you’ve been doing since he pinky-promised to be your friend when the other kids said you were too weird.

But you don’t accept it, crossing your arms over your chest and curling in on yourself. Your boot shifts as you nervously roll a rock under your heel. It’s quiet for a moment, and Eddie drops his hand slowly, not liking the way the air is shifting around the two of you.

Something feels off. Final.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to hang out anymore, Eddie,” you say matter of factually.

Forced. He can tell you’re putting on a front, like the one you put on for your mom. He wonders if she’s got something to do with this.

Eddie’s throat feels dry, breathing in through his nose to keep himself together.

“I don’t know why you would think that. Did I do something—”

“No,” you cut him off, looking at him in the eyes for a few seconds before averting your gaze again. “It’s not you Eddie. I just…”

Eddie stares at you with his big brown eyes hoping you’ll give him something, anything to try and fix whatever has you feeling this way.

“Don’t you want a girlfriend?”

Well that was the last thing he expected you to say.

“I’m sorry, what?” He blinks up at you, confused at where this conversation is going. You take a sharp breath through your nose, and huff, brows pinching as you become visibly upset.

“Well you and Jeff and Gareth were talking about how hot the cheerleaders uniforms are, and — and you said that if you had a chance you’d like to see what's under their skirts—“

“Okay, hold on, I didn’t say that,” he says defensively, but you give him a look that makes him back track. “Or, even if I did, I only said it because it was Gareth and Jeff. I didn’t really mean it.”

“I’m not mad that you said it, Eddie. I just," you breath in, a slight hitch in your throat as you do. "…I hear what those girls say about me…about us and…I just feel like…I—I,” you sniffle, “I don’t want to be the reason you can’t get a girlfriend.”

Eddie tries so, so hard not to laugh. Like, he’s really trying to hold it in because you’re clearly very upset. But he can’t suppress wide grin that slowly creeps across his face.

“Sweetheart,” he finally says, “You don’t really think that do you?”

Your only response is a silent nod and Eddie’s heart only grows more for you.

“Trust me, you’re not why I don’t have a girlfriend,” he says with a tone of self-deprecation. It’s not the full truth, because technically you are the reason, just not in the way you think. “Those cheerleaders wouldn’t want me whether you’re around me or not. And it’s not like there’s a line of girls dying to date me or whatever.”

He twists his rings around his fingers, waiting for your response. When he looks up, you’re looking at him like he’s got three heads.

“What?” He laughs.

“Are you joking?” You ask him very seriously.

“Joking about what…?”

“That you don’t have girls trying to, you know, get with you…”

“Oh, no, definitely not.”

A smile finally cracks on your face at his words, and an immediate relief washes over him. The tension in your body visibly washes away and you take a step closer to him.

“Okay,” you say with a soft smile.

“Can I ask why you’re so worried about me getting a girlfriend anyway?”

“Well, my mom said—“

He raises his hand, stopping you mid sentence, “That’s all I needed to hear.”

It warms his heart when you laugh, melting all the worries away. Though, he still can’t help feeling like he could lose you forever at any given moment. It would gut him if you really did decide that he couldn’t be in your life anymore. He already gets sick at the thought of you meeting someone else, someone other than him, and moving on to leave him in the dust.

“Why do you hang out with me?”

He likes the way your eyebrows shoot up when he turns your question back on you. He thinks that he’s got you just as flustered as you had him, but you look at him with a shake of the head as you speak very matter of factly.

“Because I love you.”

Eddie has to catch himself before he can get too excited. This is you that he’s dealing with here. And you could mean that in so many ways; as a friend, a brother, a lover. And, god, did he hope you mean the ladder.

“Love me how?” He asks carefully, trying his best not to sound to excited.

“Like…well, sometimes, when you do stuff that’s, like, really cute or makes me happy, I just want to—“ You bring your hands to his face, something you’ve done many times over the years when he’s going on about D&D or music or even just when he’s reading. He always assumed it was your way of expressing that he was being a bother or overstimulating you, so he would usually stop or change the subject. “—just grab you and kiss you.”

Eddie knows his face has to be as red as a tomato. His heart is going a million miles a minute and he can barely keep his breathing steady.

Holy shit is this happening?

“You want to kiss me?”

You nod, “Yeah, like, a lot.”

“Why haven’t you?”

Your eyes practically bug out of your head, dumbstruck at his words.

“I can do that?”

“Please?” It comes out breathy, meant to be a joke, but almost as a beg.

And so you do. Your soft, mint chapstick covered lips hastily meet his, head tilted ever so slightly so your noses don’t bump as if you’ve done this before. Have you done this before? Certainly not with him. It makes his blood boil thinking that someone other than him has ever gotten a chance to do this with you.

The feeling of your fingers gliding across his scalp, nails skimming in a way that sends goosebumps down his arms. He takes the opportunity to bring his own hands to your hips, pulling you closer to him to deepen the kiss.

When you finally pull away, Eddie leans in to chase after you. And when he finally opens his eyes, he feels sick—lovesick at the sight of your pleased smile. The way you’re looking at him with a sparkle in your eye makes him feel like he could do anything.

“Wow,” you say between the two of you.

“Likewise,” he says with an airy chuckle.

“Can I do it again?” You ask shyly.

“Sweetheart, you can kiss me whenever you want,” he says dreamily.

“Really?”

He hums in response, cut off with a hmph as your lips meet his again.

And again.

thank you for reading.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #best friend!eddie munson #best friend!eddie munson x reader #best friend!eddie munson x best friend!reader #eddie munson x weird girl!reader #eddie munson x wg!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson st #eddie munson blurb

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hellfireloserclub · 9 months ago

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Next Gen

Promt: fool | word: 454 | rating : g

@steddiemicrofic April.

Stevie Edward Henderson will not have this go down as the day he was branded a coward.

A fool- that's a title he's willing to accept, especially when speeding away with the town of Hawkins growing gradually smaller in the rear view mirror.

“You saw what I saw didn't you?” Billie asked when he caught her gaze.

“I'm going to have to have you elaborate Sinclaire, because whatever I just saw wasn't -”

“Possible.” Billie shook her head, “that was-”

“They should be in their sixties now, but-”

*****

A curiosity adventure had led them here, to a town that didn't exist, not as far as official maps and records were concerned.

But Hawkins was real, and it was where his parents had lived before the earthquake. Every year on the 4th of July while fireworks exploded Dad, Mom and Aunt Robin would sit on the bathroom floor and eat ice cream, the photo from the fireplace sitting on the floor in front of them.

So Stevie knew exactly who who had jumped from the roof of a trailer, Nail bat in hand to step between him, Billie and the impossible monster with flower shaped jaws that had come from nowhere.

“Uncle Steve?” Stevie asked just as Billie had asked “Eddie?” as another figure stepped up to swing a spear down on the pulverised creature where it lay dying on the floor.

The two men took pause, exchanged confused looks, before comprehension crept upon them. Eyes darting to Billie’s letterman jacket and Stevie's bowling shirts both brandishing their last names.

“Holy shit, it worked, Eddie… It worked. Our kids have kids”.

“I suppose that's worth eternity stuck with your loser ass.” Eddie grinned, leaning in and kissing Steve on the cheek . “Oh god, how old are our kids? How old are you? Why are you here?”

None of this made sense, dead men couldn’t be standing in front of them right now. “Did you really push my mom in a vent to fight Rusians?”

“Applejack won’t do anything she doesn’t want to, I'm hoping you didn’t get that from her, cause you guys can’t be here, it's not safe.” Eddie pushed them towards the place they had parked up.

“Tell the kids we're fine, we have each other.” Steve said as something moved in the undergrowth. “Now go, before you get stuck here like us.”

“Don't let them come back, no matter how much they want to, we have this.” Eddie said as he pushed them towards the car.

“Erica and Dustin? Who would have thought it” Steve saluted as he dove into the hedge after the creature.

“Go!” Eddie yelled as something howled in the distance.

Nobody was going to believe them.

#steddie #steddiemicroficapril #eddie munson #stranger things #steve harrington #steve x eddie

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oldwitcheshat · 1 year ago

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Steddie Angst - No beta, we die on this hill

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Rationally, Steve knew this all made sense. Eddie was one of the people he and his friends picked on in high school. He was, after all, King Steve. No matter how hard he tried, that's all he has been and all he ever will be. But it still hurt.

The way Eddie looked at him now -With shock and confusion and disgust - proved it. Steve thought he read the signs correctly. Even Robin agreed with him. Hell, even Nancy asked him about it. But none of that mattered now.

Steve just confessed to Eddie. Knocked on the new government-issued trailer Eddie and Wayne lived in, with flowers in hand, and confessed. It felt like weights were lifted off his chest. For once, in a long time, Steve felt hopeful.

“Wow Steve,” Eddie said after Steve finished, “This is a new low for you”

All the weight that was lifted off of Steve’s chest just crashed back down. He would have sworn that after all the pain from Nancy that he would be used to handling the pain by now. He was wrong.

“What do you mean?” Steve choked out. Surely this was joke. Eddie would laugh and smile and take the flowers and everything will be fine.

“You actually had me going for a bit there.” Eddie said, “I genuinely thought that after everything you had changed.”

“I don’t understand” Surely, Steve was missing something.

“Of course you don’t. Look, just fuck off man.” Eddie said stepping back into the trailer and shutting the door in Steves face.

Steve stood there for a while. Flowers still in hand. Eyes opened wide. Staring at the door. Mouth agape. It wasn’t until a car door slammed shut did Steve snapped out of it. He glanced at the flowers in his hands and tossed them in front of the door. They were meant for Eddie anyway.

Steve drove home and parked his Beamer in the driveway of the big, empty house. It had always felt lonely, but now it felt worse. There was nothing for him in there. No family, no friends, and certainly not Eddie. Steve accepted it as what he deserved. After all, everyone kept leaving him unless they needed him for something. As soon as the next best thing came along or someone else filled his role, he would be back in the same spot. Sitting in front of his empty house, too pathetic to get out of his car.

This all happened the same way too. After being discharged from the hospital, Eddie needed help to heal and Wayne couldn’t keep taking days off of work. Everyone else had school or a job to keep attending, but Keith had finally gotten tired of Steve’s antics that he fired him with the Earthquakes being the excuse. Of course, Keith kept letting Robin work there though. She was always the more competent one out of the two. Naturally, Steve became Eddie’s caretaker. He had the time and some knowledge from having to take care of himself from past Upside Down encounters.

At first, it was awkward. They had barely gotten to know each other between demobats and Vecna. This was also the first time they had ever spent one-on-one time together. Gradually though, the tension melted, and teasing and - at least Steve assumed it was - flirting filled the space. Even after doctors passed him with flying colors, Steve still went over. If he wasn’t with Robin, he was with Eddie, and if not one or the other, then usually both. Steve finally realized his feelings when Robin pointed out how obnoxiously in love Eddie and Steve were with each other. At that point, Steve blew right past a gay panic and into acceptance at a rate Robin was jealous of. But after hearing how Steve and Tommy used to spend time during sleepovers at the empty Harrington house, she realized why.

Despite flying through his identity crisis, it took forever for Steve to find the courage to admit to Eddie how he felt. He had gotten it wrong so many times in the past, he felt so unsure now. Robin kept nagging him though - kept pointing out the ways Eddie would flirt back and how his eyes always fell on Steve. She even went as far as dragging Nancy into it. Nancy picked up on it right away. She asked how long Steve and Eddie had been dating after the first time they all hung out together.

Little did they know how it would end up. Steve gripped the steering wheels hard and made up his mind. He backed out of the driveway and drove straight to Family Video. Robin was wrong about everything and he needed to tell her.

When the bell rang, Robin glanced up to give the normal “Welcome to Family Video” greeting she hated but she perked up as soon as she saw Steve.

“Steve! What are you doing here? I though you and Eddie would be sucking face right about now” She joked

“You were wrong,” Steve said and marched up to the counter.

“What do you mean?” She asked. The humor in her eyes quickly disappeared.

“You were wrong,” Steve said. His eyes were burning. The last thing he wanted was to cry. “Eddie doesn’t like me back. He's not ‘obnoxiously in love with me’. He still sees me as King Steve.”

It was Robin's turn to look confused. “That doesn’t make sense. He has been all over you and flirting back.”

“That doesn’t matter Robin. It was all fake.” Steve said and threw his hands in the air. “I told you too. I told you he didn’t like me back and it didn’t fucking matter.”

“Oh Steve,” Robin said softly. Her face showed her concern and Steve knew why. Despite all his efforts to stop them, the tears were rushing down his face.

“I don’t understand” Steve whispered, his shoulders sagging. All the anger he had briefly felt left him. All that was left was a deep sadness and the reminder that no matter how hard he tried, he was still unlovable.

#steddie #stranger things #If this gets enough requests i'll fix it #no promises though #can you tell i'm going through it?

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vacantwatchers · 10 months ago

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He talks, I listen (He's in the shower and his skin glistens)

Rated M. Words 4.8k.

Behold. The sequel to Metal Church, Steve's POV. Read on Ao3 here

Steve lives in a trailer. It’s one of the few that live outside the limits of Forest Hills Trailer Park.

A double wide cream beast with brown trimming whose interior consists of alternating striped floral wallpaper and pine wood panelling. It was perched on the edge of a puddle masquerading as a lake.

Cop Lake, if you wanted to get local about it.

It was well known that Hopper lived there, and could be frequently seen on the porch popping pills to cure his ever present hangover.

The tail end of 1983 saw him moving in, body aching and face uncomfortably numb while Hopper's hand anchored him to the ground. He was a little under two months into being eighteen, concussed for the second time in a month. He was freshly away from his parents.

"I own the place outright," Hopper had said as he walked him up the steps and into the bowels of his new home. "I got a cabin a little ways from here and don't need this place anymore so it's yours for however long you want it. The hot water can be touchy and the pressure in the shower is piss poor, but it's your own space and you won't need to watch your back here."

Hopper had dropped the keys into his hand, told him he'd be by in the next couple of days with his stuff.

And that, well. That was that.

Steve had handed Hopper a list of items in the Harrington house that he'd bought and when Hopper returned, he'd had a smirk and items that definitely weren't on the list.

The entire stereo system was a nice touch.

It became a mission of his, transforming his new space from the interior of a grieving apathetic forty something year old to something that reflected his interests. That, okay that sounded harsh towards Hopper but the guy was grieving and he was apathetic to his personal surroundings. He was also the only fucking cop in the county who did anything about his dad, so no matter what he thinks of his decorating choices, he’s officially the only adult in this town he fucking trusts.

Guess it pays to have moved from the city and have no knowledge of the corrupt nature Harrington money breeds. Or. Well, it didn't breed, in Hopper's case.

Slowly, he filled the space with colour and warmth. Floor lamps to replace the mind searing top lights, bright vases from the thrift stores in Bloomington slowly filled with plants, which then slowly multiplied until his porch was screened in by greenery and the living room was more leaf than couch. Music and cinema posters, art prints, photos that were both framed and tacked to walls. New blankets and pillows and rugs.

Soft, bright, inviting things that for so long Steve wasn't allowed to have when he lived in his parents house.

(Never to be mistaken for a home.)

Things scattered around that served their purpose in reminding him that Steve was a three dimensional person, not a cutout of his father's ideologies. It all starred in the most important role possible, to demonstrate his enjoyment of things, of life. He made the trailer into a space that felt more of a home than the house he’d lived in for the first seventeen years of his life.

Sometimes when it's late at night, Steve thinks about the past, who he was, who he was perceived to be. Who his friends were and what could have been.

When the sweat is cooling in the hollow of his throat, and the tips of his fingers are buzzing, breath shuddering from yet another nightmare. When the grey black of his bedroom moves like static, Steve wonders what would have happened if he had gone to Tommy the first time all the Upside Down shit happened.

When he lays in the dark, yearning for a familiarity of years that had been lost because of shitty personalities swayed by public perception.

Would he still be dealing with the Upside Down if after that first time, after having Nancy pull back the safety and hold a gun to his face and fighting a flower headed nightmare, he'd gone to Tommy and looked at him the same way he had for ten years whenever he needed a hug. Told him everything that had happened, knowing that Tommy would scoff in disbelief but still listen to everything.

Going to Tommy, having that single touchstone to someone outside of all that shit, would mean he probably wouldn't have gotten back together with Nancy.

Which means no heartbreak in Tina's bathroom, no going to Nancy's only to be waysided by Dustin. No Dart, no junkyard, no demodogs, no fucking tunnels. No fight with Billy Hargrove because he would never have been at the Byers house.

No new family in Mrs Henderson and Dustin, Max and Robin.

Breathing in slowly, Steve decides that all the shit he's earned from associating with the Upside Down, the nightmares and insomnia, the blurred vision in his left eye and chronic migraines, the paranoia of tight spaces, of hospitals and doctors, of the woods behind his house. It was worth it all to have those fucking kids in his life, to finally feel like a being of considered worth rather than an object for his mother to pick up off the shelf and peddle to coworkers and society when she finally shows her face at home.

Sitting in the middle of his bed, holding his knees, Steve can't lie to himself though, can't say he doesn't wish he had someone familiar he could lean on in the depths of night.

Steve didn't fucking mean it like that though.

And then it kept happening like that.

Healing a torn up body was one of the worst aftermath things Steve has had to live through, worse than growing back his nails and getting fitted for his plate of false teeth. You don't realise how much movement is torso dominant until you're stitched back together all over. His entire body at this point was scarred; road rash and bites, claws and strangulation, fists and plates.

At least he's not still in a hospital bed.

"At least you still got your nipple, man."

Steve snorted and leaned back in the hard and slightly too small chair. "This is true. Would be a shame if I spent the money to get them pierced only to lose one of them."

Eddie nodded, eyes drifting down to look at chest and lingered there as if he enjoyed the view of his Springsteen tour shirt. "A damn shame indeed. Good thing both those pretties are still there."

"You looking at my nipples, Eddie?"

"They were out and about, what did you want me to do? Look at trees all night? There's a reason I gave you the vest."

"My modesty right? My nipples were too much for your delicate sensibilities, huh. I get it. It's hard to look away when they're your first pair."

"Fuck you, they were not."

"It's okay. I won't tell the guys mine were your first set."

"Shut up, I've seen plenty of nipples in my lifetime."

"The mirror doesn't count, rockstar. But I do think it's a shame you don't have a matched set anymore. Even if your scar is going to cool when it's all healed."

Becoming close to Eddie Munson wasn't at all what he expected to happen after a week in hell, but he wouldn't change it for anything in the world.

It doesn't take long for the obsession to start. It's minor, manageable, measly, many more ‘m’ words he couldn't think of but knew existed that explained that this feeling was absolutely normal and not at all getting out of hand. But he couldn't help it. Not when Eddie was incredible and genuine and himself all the time.

There were so many little things he did that Steve couldn't help but fixate on every time he sees, or even thinks about them.

Like.

Okay. Eddie has this terrible habit of hiding his face away.

He does it when he’s happy, when he’s excited, nervous, embarrassed, shy.

He’ll be enthusiastic and vibrant and then suddenly turn to the side as if to hide how wide his smile is, how bright his eyes glow when he’s in the throws of a story. He’ll lean into his hand to hide the sweet curl of a smile, will pull his hair forward and hide behind it whenever anyone even hints about how they remember who he is, acknowledge his existence beyond the D&D metalhead who was targeted by their fucking shithole town.

How anyone could ever forget though, when Eddie Munson commands the attention of a room, heads turning to follow their benevolent king as he walks and gestures, royal decrees and commentary dripping from his plush lips at every moment. The very idea of someone being able to look upon Eddie, see his elegant hands gesture and wave so expansively you could be forgiven for imagining it was because his hands were weighted down by those thick banded rings, and then forget him as soon as he leaves their sight– it truly didn't compute with Steve.

(God the lengths Steve will go to if just for the possibility that it would make Eddie flush that pretty pink and get all shy behind his hair.)

There's probably a reason behind it, something learned that isn't easily shaken. Something so deeply ingrained that it’s become an unconscious act.

The same way Steve stopped voicing all his questions in ninth grade because he was sick of everyone looking at him like he was totally brain dead and his teachers had started using him as an example of what to not do. He never understood what the issue was, because in middle school Mr Clarke had taught them that every question was worth asking in the journey to knowledge, no matter how simple or out of field.

The bell had rung and everyone else had left, all notions of science forgotten as soon as they'd passed through the doorway towards recess. Which was good, because Steve had asked a lot of questions and Tommy and some of the other boys had grumbled a lot. He'd stayed back, slowly packing away his pencils, to put more distance between him and his friends' memories of his stupid questions.

Mr Clarke had crouched beside his desk, after wiping down the board, his moustache moving up as he smiled. “Steve, your questions are a demonstration that you're engaging with the subject and have your own method of coming to the right conclusion. Everyone works things out in their own unique way. Never be afraid to ask when you don't understand something, for how would you learn if you do not seek the answers? Besides, most of the time, when you ask a question, one of the others might have been wondering the same thing. You were just the one brave enough to ask the question to lead you on in the voyage to knowledge.”

Steve had figured it had to be the same in high school, all questions being valid and showing his honest attempt at grasping what was being discussed in class, only to be met with sighs and questions about why he was never paying attention. As if he didn’t have countless notes. As if he didn’t go home looking at his homework and textbooks and assigning novels that he couldn’t understand, that made him cry from frustration which made the letters swim around more than usual and cry harder because now he had no chance.

It was something he's only now starting to approach, tentatively asking questions and voicing his thoughts, because for once he has people who will answer his questions. Sure, it's a shaky roll of the dice sometimes when Henderson wants to answer him helpfully and give him a run-down of something, or be a little bitch with his answers.

Robin though, Robin is the platonic love of his life, she listens to him - his winding thought trains that bounced around randomly about shit that she wasn’t into. She listens to it all. His thoughts and his questions, responds with rapid sentences answering every question in consecutive order to how he asked them. Sometimes it feels like her words tumble over each other in the air with how fast she talks. She watches him as she talks and when he doesn’t understand something, his eyebrows scrunching together and his mouth scrunching with them, she rolls it back and tries to restructure everything for him until he does.

Eddie though.

God.

Eddie looks at him and it's like for the first time someone is paying attention to what he is below the surface. When he talks to Eddie and sees him actively listening, nodding and humming and watching with those eyes, something behind his ribs tightens and drops, radiating a warmth he just doesn't know what to do with.

Eddie just–

He listens.

And while he does, he hides his face. His hand with those long ringed fingers covering his cheek and his mouth and stretching over the tip of his nose. Pulling and holding his hair. He leans on to his palm and looks up at him with those pretty, pretty brown eyes that are always so fucking shiny. That glint at him like they're backlit by stars.

Ringed fingers gripped at the hair Steve ached to touch constantly.

Eddie was pacing across the small living room of Steve’s trailer, ranting about his chances of graduating once again being in the shitter. The next pivot past his coffee table saw Eddie dropping down to sit, full weight in the motion. Steve tried real fucking hard to not feel jealous of his own furniture when his (love– sunflower– sweetheart– light of his life– moon–) friend was stressed and covering his face to muffle, badly, a scream.

"I was in class with you man, how did you do it? Because I'm drowning, I barely have my nose out to breathe, and I always thought you were in the same boat as me."

Steve thought back to high school, to the incomprehensible letters and texts that would float in his brain for an hour before leaving behind only chemtrails of interesting sounding words or sentences.

The way he'd move through the bottleneck of student crowded halls to lean beside the dumpsters by the back parking lot at lunch and suck down cigarettes to disrupt the buzzing in his hands and chest that always came when he was nervous or overwhelmed. Multiple times a week the side door would open and different teachers would step out already shaking out their own pack of smokes only to look up and freeze at the sight of him.

Steve leaned back into the couch.

"I'd smoke by the dumpsters with my teachers and talk about class."

He'd stand there, finding shapes in the exhaled clouds as a lighter passed back and forth and he asked all the questions he was too nervous to voice during class. Because it wasn't middle school anymore, and the voyage of curiosity had run aground on the jagged rocks of ninth grade.

He wasn't the smartest, answers took longer to meet his aching grasp, connections misfiring often from misread and misunderstood textbooks. And if there was one thing Steve didn't want to hear, it was something being repeated in his classmates that he already heard at home.

"I think they were a little more lenient with me because we'd discuss it during those breaks. I had a chance to ask my questions and they could see I was trying to grasp the shit we'd gone over, I could verbalise my understanding. I just couldn't figure how to put it in writing, which is what they fuckin’ graded."

Eddie pulled away from his hands and blinked at him slowly. "You smoked. With our teachers."

"Yeah." Steve shrugged. "There's only so many times they can say to cut it out before they just give in to the knowledge that I would still be smoking, it'd just be somewhere else."

"Are you telling me I should smoke with Ms O'Donnell and maybe I'll be able to pass this year?"

Steve shrugged. "I don't know man, I don't remember her coming out to smoke. But if you see the teachers, just like, start asking questions, I don't know.”

Eddie's too-pretty eyes dug out a piece of his soul with nothing but their weight. "This is seriously how you graduated?"

"I mean, yeah. Mostly. The only classes I understood were the maths ones and biology." Eddie's face smoothed into a smirk and he couldn't help but shiver. "Not like that, dude. I just liked learning about how bodies and lifeforms function. Like the bug thing I went through as a kid."

"You went through–" Eddie blinked. "What is a bug thing?"

"You know, like. Life cycles of wasps from pupae to insect, the different beetles and why some develop long range defence attacks and some don't. Bug thing. You didn't go through that? It like, it ties in perfectly with the dinosaur, dragon and Egypt thing."

Steve had watched Eddie fall back into the couch and was now pinned in place, much like the framed rhinoceros beetle Dustin gifted him last year that hung above his key rack, by his amused smile.

"Full of surprises aren't you, big boy."

God Steve was so screwed. He could feel how hot his cheeks just got.

Redirect, redirect, redirect.

“Anyway. Half the time it was our science teacher Mr Schecter out there, but you know him. He takes over half the subjects when the other teachers can't come in. I swear the guy knows more about the subject matter than they do most of the time. They talk to each other to bitch about us, might as well show them we're trying in our own ways."

Eddie blinked his big, stressed out eyes at him. "Mr Schecter. The guy who for a semester taught Home Ec, Chemistry and for some godforsaken reason, P.E., would help me with this."

Steve shrugged and slid further down into his cushion, absolutely not for the reason that it caused his knees to slide against Eddie's.

"Man likes to teach and he knows a lot. He also stress-smokes like I do, so half the time I was walking outside, he'd either be a minute behind me or already out there."

"I'm trying to wrap my head around you knowing so much about our teachers' scandalous habits."

Steve snorted, opening his eyes to grin at Eddie. "When I couldn't find any of our teachers, after school I'd go down to the middle and hit up Mr Clarke because that man knows a lot and knows how to explain it well. I'd also sometimes find him smelling mighty familiar. If you catch my drift.”

He doesn’t know when his filter for not saying everything that lived inside his mind wore away, when the idea of finally speaking the truth into existence became a thing. Maybe after the fifth conversation with Robin, where she quite hypocritically pushed him towards making that move with Eddie because it was a sure thing.

“Oh so you’re quoting me to me now, are you? That’s rich, Robin. How’s your thing with Vickie going?”

Robin groaned and leaned back, knocking over the fresh stack of tapes with her flailing elbows.

“It’s different for me, you know that. But with Eddie? Come on, the guy walks around bowing to ladies and saying flattery works on me. One of his favourite bands is Judas Priest, Steve. You’ve seen the posters. You and I know that lead singer is in the leather scene, we’d be fucking blind to not see that. Eddie walks around flagging, for fuck’s sake.”

“I get that. I know that guy is in the leather scene. Eddie has a magazine with his picture in it where he’s wearing like, seven studded belts. And we can speculate all you want, but I also don’t think Eddie knows he is flagging, or what flagging even is, because I’ve alluded to that shit and he just goes all confused big eyes on me, and then I just get lost because he has really pretty eyes.”

Somewhere around the twelfth time they circled around their victorian era longing and sighing over glimpsed ankles, they came to a compromise.

“He was putting on his jacket and as he did, it pulled his shirt up and I– he has little dimples on his back and between those and the way his bullet belt falls across his hips, I couldn’t look away. He turned around and asked me if I was good because I kind of zoned out for a minute thinking about using the belt as a hand hold to yank him closer.”

“Great, you’re looking at his back and I was looking at her collar bones and thinking they’d look so pretty with hickies.” Robin pushed away from her side of the counter to land at his side, shoulder to shoulder. “God, we’re still pathetic. I think we should just,” she scrunches her face and sighs, “we should just go for it. Fuck it. I have Fast Times 53 minutes, 8 seconds; and you have Judas Priest and flagging. This is the closest we’re going to get to landing our devious queer romances in this tiny town. The worst that can happen is we play it off as a dare.”

“So we go for it, full overt operations with our babes, dazzle them with our combined personality and pray it works? And then move to a city when you graduate on the off chance all this falls through?”

Robin bumped their shoulders together before she slumped down, her cheek pressing into the uncomfortable seam of his work vest. “Sounds like a plan, if we’ve ever had one.”

There was never a situation in which Steve would be done spending time with Eddie. And the night everyone had gotten together to celebrate his graduation, he made sure Eddie came home with him for their own after party.

Made sure Eddie knew how proud of him Steve was, that he never gave up.

Also that he took his, admittedly, weak advice. “Smoking with the teachers helped, huh?”

Eddie grinned, “I can’t believe it did, man. Mr Schecter is a surprisingly cool dude, he explained so much shit to me.”

“I’m glad.”

“You helped too, you know?”

Eddie moved in, the heat he radiated through his open leather jacket, and just in general, was like a warm line down Steve’s side. Which was a nice contrast to the cool breeze coming off of Cop Lake.

(Two years he's been living there, but the name had stuck. Steve genuinely didn't remember the lake's name.)

“You’re the one who explained all that maths in ways I would understand. Gave me those scenarios for english that made sense. Too bad I was already passing biology though huh, big boy. Would have liked to see what demonstration you would have worked out for me there.”

Internally, Steve was crouching down and screaming into his hands.

Externally, his fingers reached out to loop through the chain hanging from Eddie’s belt and tugged ever so softly.

“I told you, it’s not that kind of biology. Those demonstrations are saved for a rainy day.”

Eddie swayed impossibly closer. “Oh yeah? What would I have to do to unlock just prestigious lessons from you, sweetheart.”

Shit he didn’t think this far ahead.

What have they talked about recently that he could relate this to?

Think, think thi– Bingo.

He smiled, “I’m sure you could think of something. I heard your campaign just picked a paladin and you’re giving him and one of your favourite NPCs, how did Dustin describe it? Tension?”

Oh, what he wouldn’t give to watch Eddie flush so pretty and turn to tuck that soft smile into his hair every day for the rest of his life.

Somehow, that wasn’t the moment that pushed them together. Eddie was remarkably stubborn when it came to his moves.

They would dance together at every moment, Steve setting something up, a little hidden gem for him to find, and Eddie would find it and go with it, but move no further.

Steve would sit on the couch and have his arm on the couch behind Eddie, and Eddie would lean in, press their legs together.

He would use the magnets Max bought him for his birthday to write the filthiest poems he could think of, and come back after dropping Eddie home safe and sound to Wayne, to find more added on. That time, he had to take matters in hand for a while because the fucking imagery Eddie painted behind his eyes with those lines was…exquiste.

His favourite activity to do during the pursuit of (his love– baby– starlight– good boy–) Eddie was to lay back on the tangled mess of covers and pillows, and listen to Eddie talk.

There was something about Eddie’s voice that just sunk deep under his skin and curled through his bones in a satisfying way that left him aching for more.

When he got deep into a monologue, excited with everything he was saying and the fact that Steve would never bear to look away, Eddie would jump up and move his whole body as he talked. Hands flying about, fingers pulling shapes to suit the topic, hair cutting behind him as he spun around.

Those days, Steve would learn about what Eddie liked about music, who his favourite bands are and for what reason; he would learn what was going to happen in the next session of both D&D campaigns Eddie was running. One with all of Hellfire and Erica, the second with just his boys. Because he liked that he could go harder and a little more raunchy with them.

When the stream of consciousness would trickle to an end, and he saw that Steve was comfy and in no rush to leave, Eddie would walk over and crawl onto the bed to lay beside him. He would reach out for whatever book they were on and begin to read aloud in that deep, slow voice he no doubt practised.

All these perfect moments, and it wasn’t enough to have Eddie close the distance.

Could he have closed it, pushed the moment to that oh so perfect conclusion he was aiming for?

Sure.

But a small part of him had been seeing if Eddie ever would, and came to the conclusion that Eddie would need an explicit, this is happening, no doubts about it, please do me now moment.

So he made the tapes.

He took three hours out his day to make the perfect compilations, and had a little too much fun recording a tasting sample for Eddie, so much fun he’d almost forgotten to hit record.

He took to the pictures, labelled the tape inserts, delivered the instructions, and revelled in that pretty dazed look that rose from calling Eddie a good boy.

And then three hours later, when Eddie ran up the stairs to his trailer, he yanked him inside.

He got to explore just how much of that black bandana Eddie knew about and show him those more in depth biology lessons.

Eddie’s little back dimples looked beautiful when his back arched, the little whines settled in his chest so perfectly when he would whisper all those names Steve had held tight behind his lips for so long, his voice so pretty when he moaned. When he dripped his pleasure, body trembling gently as they both relaxed into the bed, breathing heavy and warm into each other's shoulder.

Seeing Eddie in his space, bathed in the soft warmth of his floor lamps, skin glistening from his shower, Steve knew that it was a view he wanted to have the pleasure of seeing for the rest of his life.

Robin looked at him from across their breakfast, smug. “The tapes worked huh?”

Steve nodded as he swallowed his coffee, taking in the dark pink spots peeking out from the collar of her Stacey Q t-shirt, mostly obscured by her leather jacket. “Kiss of the Spider Woman worked huh?”

She grinned. “It did. I can’t believe the movie you guessed would fit the movie night would do it.”

“It has the silhouette of a naked lady on the front, of course it would do it.”

“I guess we aren’t as pathetic as we thought.”

He bobbed his head, because while they weren't pathetic in the sense that they finally got their person, they undoubtedly were still pretty pathetic and stupid smitten when it came to them because he just couldn't hold it in any more.

"Holy shit, he smells like heaven, and oh my god, I like him so much."

Robin snorted into her juice and thunked her glass down, choking on her laughter. "He does not. He smells like cigarettes, leather and whatever cologne he bought on a whim. Vickie is the one who smells like heaven."

"She smells like baby powder and that floral hand cream you bought her."

"Exactly! Heaven!"

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #stobin #stranger things fic

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moonchildreads · 2 years ago

Text

small town

Chapter 13 - You Give Good Love

IN THIS CHAPTER: Vinegar fumes, an old photograph, and Eddie attempts to hang the moon [9.5k]

WARNINGS: angst, self-esteem issues, mentions of financial hardships, mentions of dead parents, small mention of period-typical homophobia (late 1960s)

A/N: i want to once again shout out my three fairy godmothers, my kindest merryweather (@duquesademiel), my loveliest flora (@justahappycloud) and my sweetest fauna (@gutterratt) for vibechecking dot and eddie's first big misunderstanding. also thank you for teaching me about 80s metal, you were right, dio's the last in line was absolutely perfect for this chapter. i keep thanking you three, and yet it is never enough. can't wait to hug the shit out of you in a month. <3

masterlist - prev - next | playlist

I found out what I've been missing Always on the run I've been looking for someone

Thursday, May 8th - 1986

Eddie Munson had the nagging feeling that something was wrong with Dottie Burke. He didn’t know what it was, but he was 100% sure that something was wrong.

For starters, she was being terribly secretive about that textbook she’d borrowed from the library the day before, going so far as waiting until he got up to go pee to return it without him getting so much as a glimpse of the cover. Then it was the fact that her bag looked particularly full and she wouldn’t let him carry it for her, quickly stashing it under her legs as soon as she climbed into his van. She kept her locker closed whenever he was around, and even changed seats to be far away from him during lunch, engaging with Jeff in a conversation about flowers, their heads down and eyes glued to the book they had open between them on the table. But what was perhaps bothering him the most, was the knowledge that the damn mystery card was still hidden within her backpack, tucked between her Home Ec notebook and her Chemistry textbook, taunting him with a peek of its pink envelope when Dottie rummaged through one of her pockets for an extra pen to lend to him during their shared English Lit class.

He couldn’t pinpoint if it was simply him being weird due to the recent discovery of his jealous tendencies or if she really was keeping secrets from him, but something had to give. He was getting increasingly paranoid over every little interaction they had and he wasn’t enjoying his current descent to madness at all. Eddie was planning on asking her if everything was okay between them as soon as they arrived at their destination, but when he pulled into the trailer park, he saw his Uncle gesturing at him to roll his window down, lit cigarette dangling from his lips.

“Don’t get out, boy!” Wayne shouted, jogging to the driver’s side of the van. “Need you to run an errand for me in town.”

“Can it wait?” Eddie asked, turning around in his seat to see Dottie gathering her things. “We were gonna-”

“I need you to take this to Terry,” he slid him a big manila envelope with Terrence McKee’s name scribbled on the front.

“Aren’t you gonna see him tomorrow during your meeting?” he furrowed his eyebrows, wondering what the hell did the old man need him to deliver to his Union buddy so urgently on a Thursday.

“Yes but he needs this today, don’t ask stupid questions, son,” Wayne said with an air of finality. “You know where he lives?”

“Yeah,” Eddie scoffed, disbelief tainting his next words. “It’s literally all the way across Hawkins.”

“You better get going then,” he patted the side of the van like one would pat a horse to get him to move.

“Do you mind if I wait for you here?” Dottie asked, hopping off the van before Eddie could answer. “I really need to pee.”

“Go on, I’ll keep her company until you get back,” Wayne said, dismissing his nephew with another wave of his hand. “Don’t worry about her.”

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” Eddie told Dottie, uncomfortable with leaving her at his trailer while he wasn’t there.

“Take your time!” she smiled at him. “Drive safe, ‘kay?”

He nodded once before peeling back into the main road and speeding away. Standing side by side while they watched the van get smaller, Dottie and Wayne could feel the tension leaving their bodies now that Eddie was gone. The older man let out a low chuckle, like he couldn’t believe they’d gotten away with their improvised ruse.

“What was inside the envelope?” Dottie asked, noticing mischief twinkling in Wayne’s blue eyes.

“Half of today’s newspaper,” he grinned, and she was instantly reminded of Eddie’s face when he pulled off something wacky during Hellfire. “Called Terry earlier today, got him to play along. Hopefully he’ll keep Eddie busy for a while.”

“You’re so evil, Mr. Wayne,” she said, smiling up at him. “Thank you.”

“No problem, kid. Come on in, let’s get started before he comes back.”

Dottie stood with her hands on her hips in the middle of Eddie’s room, watching the pure black stain on the ceiling get more and more faded with each passing minute. The furniture was covered in trash bags to prevent it from accidentally getting damaged with the one-part-water one-part-vinegar mixture that Uncle Johnny had instructed her to concoct; the bucket holding the liquid was safely perched on a step of the small ladder Wayne had pulled out for her from an overflowing storage closet in the hallway. While she had been busy soaking the affected surface with a sponge, the eldest Munson had taken it upon himself to give all the carpets in the trailer a much needed refresh with an old vacuum that hadn’t been used in a while. If the loud sucking noises had been of any indication, there had been way more crumbs and dust accumulated in the living room than he’d hoped to find, and the less was said about Eddie’s bedroom floor, the better.

After half an hour had passed without any sign of her friend’s return, Dottie climbed the stepladder once more to begin cleaning up the mold with her trusty sponge and pink rubber gloves. She was pleased to find that just one swipe was good enough to remove almost all the gunk, but Uncle Johnny had mentioned at least two applications were probably needed to get rid of it completely. She was so absorbed into her work that she failed to notice a very familiar van parking outside next to Wayne’s truck; upon entering the quiet trailer, Eddie was confused as to why all the windows were wide open. Noticing that Wayne had fallen asleep on his armchair with their old vacuum at his feet, he tiptoed down the hallway towards his bedroom and pushed the door open, only to find his newest friend standing at the top of the little ladder his Uncle had gotten for him when he first came to live at the trailer park so he could reach the kitchen cabinets on his own.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he said, standing under the frame in shock.

“I’m cleaning!” she smiled at him like it was no big deal.

It was a big deal. It was a huge deal, actually, because Dottie cleaning up his own home embarrassed him to the bone. Suddenly, Eddie was back in middle school and the people he desperately wanted to be friends with were calling him dirty and trash and smelly, and the walls were closing in on him, and there was an acid smell in the air that reminded him too much of when Wayne tried to get rid of his lice by soaking his scalp with vinegar, which in turn reminded him too much of the acrid odor that was embedded into every corner of the house he had once shared with his Dad. Dottie’s usually gentle smile was now taunting him, and when he noticed that she was keeping her hair away from her face with one of his bandanas, deep seated shame bubbled up to the surface, bursting to get out of his system with no regards as to who it would run over in its path.

“Get out,” he gritted out, voice dripping with venom.

“W-what?”

“Get the fuck out!”

“I’m sorry, I-”

“Is this fun to you?!” he yelled, eyes hard on her figure still standing at the top of the ladder. “You think you can just come into my home and touch all my shit and I’m supposed to be okay with it?!”

“Eddie-”

“What are you doing?!”

“I’m helping-”

“I didn’t ask you for help!” he heard heavy footsteps coming up from behind him but he couldn’t stop the poison coming out of his throat. “What, was it interesting to see what it’s like to be a broke piece of shit? Did you get tired of hanging out in a shitty trailer? Or did you just want to add me to your list of good deeds? Poor Eddie, I saved him!”

“Edward!” Wayne’s voice cut his tirade short. The older man looked tired with the kind of fatigue only years of hardship could give you. “She just wanted to help you out! I gave her permission to do it, so stop yellin’ at her!”

“You… you knew about this?” he looked at his Uncle, betrayal twisting his stomach. “What the fuck, Wayne!”

“Ed-”

“No! Shut up! Shut the fuck up! Stay out of this!” Eddie kicked his door shut and threw all his weight on it, leaving Wayne knocking on the wood outside before turning to Dottie again. “You turned my fucking Uncle on me?”

“I didn’t- I just asked him if I could clean up the mold stain-”

“Do you think I need you to clean up after me like you’re my goddamn mother? Because I don’t! I don’t need you! I was doing fine before I met you!”

“I just wanted to help-”

“I’m not a child, Dot, you don’t have to treat me like… Like I’m some charity case you have to have pity for!”

A wet sponge flew across the room and hit Eddie square in the chest, right in the middle of his favorite Iron Maiden shirt he’d gotten out of a thrift store bin a few years back. The yellow projectile flopped to the floor where it hit the carpet with a squelch; Eddie looked up to Dottie to find her face had turned red, her jaw clenched in barely contained rage. She threw a fucking sponge at me, he realized, wary of what else could she’d throw his way. Her bucket was perfectly within her reach.

“Are you done?” she raised her voice, louder than he’d ever heard her.

“I-”

“I asked, are you done yelling at me?!” her hands turned into rubbery fists, eyes narrowing to look down at him from her vantage point. He didn’t dare reply. “I asked your Uncle for permission to clean the mold stain because that’s what’s causing your allergies. You’re getting sick from it and it could be dangerous!”

“How do you-”

“Do you really think it’s the first time I’ve seen mold in my entire life? Give me a break, Eddie, how sheltered do you think I am?”

“If you had such noble intentions, why didn’t you ask me about it instead of going behind my back and asking Wayne, huh?”

“Because you don’t let people help you! No, no, no,” she lifted her gloved hand to cut him off as soon as he opened his mouth. “You don’t get to argue back. Gareth has to hide gas money in your glovebox so you don’t try to give it back to him! Donny acts like he wants your peanuts so you eat the extra lunch he brings for you without complaining!”

“I don’t want your pity!”

“It’s not fucking pity! We want to help you out because we love you!” Dottie threw her hands in the air with exasperation. She exhaled loudly, shoulders sagging, defeated. “Don’t you fucking accuse me of seeing you as a goddamn charity case ever again, Eddie. If you can’t see by now that I think the absolute world of you, then I don’t know why we’re even friends anymore.”

There was a heavy silence in the room, and Eddie could feel his anger and humiliation turn to guilt. He stared at her with wet eyes, regretting every single word that had come out of his mouth since he’d returned from his strange errand. Dottie was breathing heavily, lips turned downwards, biting the inside of her cheek; he had seen that face before and instantly knew that she was trying her hardest not to cry. He felt like such an idiot. Of course that what he was feeling was completely justified but he had just accused her of essentially tricking him into a friendship only to mock him, like she hadn’t consistently shown him how kind and selfless she truly was.

Putting his pride aside, he launched himself across the room and wrapped his arms around her waist, burying his head into her chest and squeezing her tightly so she wouldn’t fall from the ladder she was still standing on.

“I’m sorry,” he said, clutching the back of the paint splattered shirt that had clearly once belonged to her Dad. She must have brought it from home to protect her clothes while she cleaned. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she said, pulling her gloves from her hands, letting them fall to the floor before dropping her arms around his shoulders. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. You’re right, I should have asked you before I did it. That wasn’t cool of me.”

“No, it wasn’t,” he agreed. “But I still shouldn’t have yelled at you like that.”

“No, you shouldn’t have,” she said, holding him tighter. “I would never pity you, Eddie, you have to know this. I admire you so much, I could never think any less of you. You’re one of my best friends in the whole world.”

“You’re one of my best friends too,” he admitted, looking up at her, his chin resting on her stomach. “I just… People are always judging, you know? And I don’t want you to see me differently because I’m… struggling.”

“I’m not trying to fix your life, or do charity with you. I just want to help you out the same way you help me out, and that’s what friends do for each other, okay? If you won the lottery tomorrow and moved to a big ass mansion in Loch Nora, I’d still help you out.”

“Because you love me?” he risked a little joke, testing the rocky waters between them.

“Yes, dumbass. Because I love you,” she said, fingers tangling in his wild curls, and despite the fact that he was sure his heart had never raced faster in his life, the waves lapping at his feet had never felt calmer.

If Eddie was taking more alternative roads and going slower than usual while taking Dottie home, neither of them said anything about it. They had spent the rest of their day together cleaning Eddie’s room as a team, her on ceiling mold duty and him wiping down every dusty surface and shoving things into his drawers and closet to deal with them at a later date. When they were done, they threw themselves onto his bed so she could quiz him on Sociology, trying to get him ready for his last test of the year before finals week. Wayne did not attempt to talk to either of them for the remainder of the afternoon, but he had hugged Dottie goodbye with a smile on his face and subsequently given his nephew a stern look that warned him about the scolding he was gonna get when he came back from dropping her off. Eddie had no doubts that his Uncle had overheard the rest of their conversation through the door and heavily favored her side of the argument.

“Are we still on for tomorrow?” he asked with a timid voice as he pulled into her street.

“You know I’m never gonna say no to tacos,” she said, turning in her seat to look at his profile. “Kinda been looking forward to it all week, actually.”

“Was really hoping you’d say that,” he admitted. “I’ve been looking forward to it too.”

“Taco Friday is still on then. They better be good or I’ll be so disappointed.”

“You won’t be, trust me. Best tacos you’ve ever had.”

“I’m counting on it. See you tomorrow, okay? Please go over your notes one more time before the test.”

“Will do, Captain,” he saluted, watching her jump off his van and walk backwards towards her front door.

“I mean it, Munson! I want to see you get at least a B or your ass is grass!”

“I’ll get you more than a B, princess, I promise!” he said, grinning when she rolled her eyes at him before scurrying inside.

He was in a fairly good mood again when he walked into the trailer, but instantly stiffened up when he saw his Uncle standing at the sink. He waited by the front door in silence for a few seconds before trying to disappear into his bedroom when Wayne put down the dish he was washing and turned around. His face gave away nothing as he motioned to the couch with his head. Oh, boy. Eddie sat down quietly and stared at the carpet. The eldest Munson crossed his arms and stood next to the coffee table, knee bumping Eddie’s to make him look up. He didn’t. The faint sounds of the trailer park settling down for the night were ringing in his ears.

“You two make up?” Wayne asked, getting straight to the point.

“Yeah. Sorry about the yelling.”

“S’alright. You know what she said to me? When she asked about the stain?” Eddie didn’t reply, so Wayne kept going. “That she’d rather have you angry at her than see you cough up blood.”

“I didn’t know it was toxic. I thought she was just… being judgy.”

“Now why do you think she was being judgy?” Eddie only shrugged and Wayne sighed, changing tactics. “You do things for her sometimes, don’t you, Ed?”

“I guess,” he could feel his ears start to get red.

“You drive her around, get her snacks. Made her that shirt for her birthday too, ain’t that right?”

“We’re friends,” he argued back, although he didn’t really know what he was getting agitated about.

“Do you judge her because she can’t drive herself?”

“What- no, of course not, I’m not an asshole!”

“Do you judge her when you buy things for her?”

“No!”

“Then what on Earth made you think she was gonna judge you, huh? That any of your friends judge you?”

“People like that always judge,” he grumbled.

“People like that?” Wayne repeated in disbelief. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know what it means,” Eddie finally looked at his uncle, exasperated. The older man lifted an eyebrow. “People that don’t live in a trailer park,” was what Eddie said. People that don’t have to decide what bill would hurt them less if it didn’t get paid on time. People that go thrift shopping for fun and not out of necessity. People that graduate on time, and go to college, and live in a suburb, was what Eddie implied.

“Y’know, for someone as perceptive as you, you can be really dumb sometimes,” he chuckled bitterly. “Open your damn eyes, boy. I know you ain’t blind. You’re not the only one who’s had a hard life ‘round here, so quit the self-pitying.”

Wayne could picture the cogs behind Eddie’s confused expression start to turn as he pondered on his words. A few seconds of silence passed between them before the eldest Munson fished his cigarettes from his shirt pocket and headed outside for a quick smoke. He turned around when he reached the door; Eddie was staring at him but his eyes were unfocused, mind miles away.

“Ed?” Wayne called, and his nephew’s head jerked violently, snapping out of his trance. “You be good to that girl, son. You don’t find people like that every day.”

Never in his almost twenty years of life had Eddie felt as productive as that day waiting for Wayne to leave for work. He’d vacuumed his bedroom carpet, put a new load of clothes in the washing machine, had dinner, washed the dishes, dried the dishes, and reorganized his tapes, all in an effort to keep moving, not stopping to think once. He was sitting at the kitchen table drowning himself in the dull black and soft gray of Jeff’s photocopied Sociology notes when his uncle finally laced up his boots, turned off the TV and headed out for the night, leaving him alone with the thoughts that could no longer be ignored.

He remembered the random five dollar bills he often found in his van: in the glovebox, between his tapes, tucked into the sun visor, laying on the dashboard. He’d always assumed he’d left them there while he was high or drunk after a gig; Gareth had never mentioned them and Eddie wasn’t a stranger to misplacing his own things so he’d never had any reasons to question his friend about it. He thought about befriending a freshman Donny when he was a junior, only a couple of months before he started selling weed and still couldn’t afford cafeteria lunches, bringing whatever little leftovers he could find in the fridge to keep his hunger at bay during the school day. He’d never given much thought to the fact that Donny kept asking him to trade a few peanuts or half his apple for a whole sandwich, not when his friend kept pulling excuse after excuse (“I hate this kind of cheese, please take it or I’m gonna throw it away”, “My sister made waffles for breakfast, I’m not that hungry”, “Dude, you know I love chocolate covered pretzels, come on, trade with me?”) and he was always happy to say yes. Donny hadn’t stopped doing it, only slowed down on the frequency once Eddie started selling and now had extra pocket money to spend on whatever he wanted.

Throat constricting, he looked down at the notes in front of him and saw Jeff’s handwriting spelling names and concepts he should be memorizing. Eddie hadn’t made the copies, Jeff had. He had gone to the library during one of his free periods and spent his time photocopying his own notes so he could give them to his long haired friend before their exam. Eddie wondered how many more things they had done for him throughout the years without getting so much as a thank you from him, and never once expecting anything in return. Never looked at him differently, never made fun of him, never questioned him. I’m a fucking idiot, he thought bitterly, before Wayne’s words rang in his ears. “You’re not the only one who’s had a hard life”, he had said.

Eddie twirled his pen in his hand, noticing it wasn’t his. It was Dottie’s fluffy pen, blue ink with a pink pompom that he loved tickling his own chin with. She was very protective of her things, never hesitating to lend them out to her friends but always having a sort of nervous anxiety until they were back in her hands. Dottie, who always waited to see what everyone else was picking at the diner before placing her own order. Dottie, who loved apple Kool-Aid and didn’t like sodas unless it was a special occasion, who knew how to bake and cook with whatever was in the fridge, who never threw away pencils until they were so small she couldn’t grab them anymore.

“Ah, fuck,” he said out loud, the weight of the words he’d carelessly thrown around at her rooting him to his chair.

Dottie who cut the toothpaste tube in half to get everything out. Dottie who always said “it’s thrifted!” or “I made it!” whenever someone complimented her on a piece of clothing that she was clearly proud of. Dottie who hated doing math but could calculate the price of things that were on sale quicker than she could read her own dice during a D&D session. Dottie, Dottie, Dottie. Eddie let his head hit the table, forehead sticking to a piece of paper. How had he missed all the signs? He’d accused her of looking down on him and all this time he’d never once stopped to think that maybe, just maybe, she knew exactly what he was going through. He’d been so concerned trying to hide all the things he feared she could judge him upon, and instead had been judging her all along.

He had to fix this. He had to show her that he was sorry for what he’d said, that he wouldn’t judge her anymore. That all this time he’d been wrong, and she’d been right, and that he was a Grade A Idiot who had gotten lost in his own head a little bit too much. Staring at an old camping lamp he’d found under his bed while he was cleaning, Eddie decided that to make things better he would simply have to hang the moon for Dottie.

Friday, May 9th - 1986

“Hey, Chris?” Eddie said, staring at the trees above him. “Could you do me a favor?”

“Is it illegal?” Chrissy replied, following the dancing leaves with her eyes.

“Absolutely.”

It was a sunny Friday, the kind of day that just made you itch to be outside, which was exactly what Eddie and Chrissy were doing after school while they waited for their extracurriculars to start. They were hanging out in their secret spot in the woods, lying on the seats of what they had claimed as their picnic table, looking up at the mostly clear sky while passing a joint back and forth under the wooden surface that separated them. Chrissy had been complaining about how someone on the Prom Planning Committee hadn’t booked the DJ they’d wanted on time and now the guy wasn’t available anymore; she had been scrambling all week trying to find a decent replacement or else everyone in their senior class was going to have to get down to someone’s cousin’s shitty mixtapes. As their shared blunt got smaller and smaller, she was thankful that she not only had a new vice to indulge in when things got overwhelming, but also had Eddie, who always listened and reacted accordingly to her frustrated rants.

“What do you need?”

“Can you sell me a couple of prom tickets? I really don’t wanna ask Kemper about them, she’s such a bitch,” he groaned.

“What did Luce do to you?” she turned to look at him, confused.

Lucy Kemper was a meek looking redhead that knew she was going to be an accountant since she was 12, and because of that, she’d appointed herself as the Committee’s treasurer as soon as she reached senior year. She said she didn’t trust anyone else handling money, so she’d taken it upon herself to be the only one selling tickets for both the junior and senior proms. Other senior students had, in turn, started calling her The Ticket Peddler - it remained to be seen whether it was an affectionate nickname or not.

“Well, for starters, Luce is the one that started that rumor about me stealing underwear from the girls’ locker room.”

“What? They literally caught Tommy Hagan breaking into a locker, Billy Hargrove dared him to do it as their last senior year prank, it was so gross. Why did she say it was you? Everyone knew it was him, it was all everyone talked about for two weeks.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Eddie said sarcastically, the smoke he had been holding in his mouth getting lost into the breeze. “That’s why she had to drop it, but that didn’t stop Higgins from interrogating me twice about it before your coach caught Hagan red handed.”

“I hated that guy, he was such a little creep. And I didn’t like how he treated Carol at all.”

“Carol Perkins was a bigger asshole than her dumbass boyfriend ever was,” he declared, offering the burning joint to Chrissy with a lifted eyebrow.

“Not to me! She was always really nice. She let me borrow a tampon once,” Chrissy said, taking a drag.

“Ew.”

“Periods are completely normal, Eddie.”

“I had to take Health class twice, I’m not scared of periods. I said “ew” because you borrowed a tampon from the Witch Queen herself. You know, I’m surprised she didn’t ask you to give it back, guess she wasn’t in the mood for a blood ritual that day.”

“You’re such an idiot,” Chrissy giggled, making him crack up too. “I’m sorry about Lucy, though. She shouldn’t have done that.”

The more time Chrissy spent with Eddie, the more she wondered how many people around her had been horrible to others right under her nose without her noticing it. She knew that Jason could be mean to the metalhead sometimes, but she figured it was just a guy thing; Eddie stood on tables and badmouthed Jason, and Jason did it right back to him, and so on and so forth. Her boyfriend wasn’t a bully, was he? They both gave as good as they got, neither shied away from conflict when it concerned each other, right? It bothered her to know that maybe she’d misunderstood the situation all along. How many times had she walked past someone being mistreated and not looked their way twice?

“Ah, don’t worry about it. Water under the bridge and all that,” Eddie waved his hand like it wasn’t a big deal. It was to Chrissy. “So, can you sell me two tickets today and hold three until next week? I’ll round up the money and pay you for those on Monday.”

“Sure! Why two today though?” she asked curiously, putting out the roach on the underside of the table and letting it fall to the grass before it began burning her fingers.

“I have another study date tonight.”

“Oh my god, are you promposing?” she suddenly sat upright, eyes twinkling with excitement. “I thought you said you were all going together as a group! What are you gonna wear? Are you taking Dottie to dinner before too? You have to get her a corsage, I can help you pick a nice one if-”

“Jesus Christ, slow down,” he said, clumsily lifting himself up from the bench until he was also sitting down across from her. “I’m not promposing, we’re still going with the guys as a group. I just… kinda fucked up yesterday and wanted to do something nice for her. Make things right, y’know?”

“Define “fucked up” for me, please.”

“I, uh, I got angry and said some things I didn’t mean. There’s nothing to worry about though, we talked it out and we’re fine. We’re going out for tacos tonight.”

“Another date that isn’t a date, huh? I’ll have the tickets ready for you after Hellfire on one condition,” she teased him. “I want first row seats at the wedding.”

“Sweetheart, if we get married, I promise you I’m picking you as my Maid of Honor slash Best Woman slash whatever that shit's called.”

“Deal,” Chrissy stuck out her hand for him to shake on it and he grinned brightly.

It occurred to her right at that second with his hand on hers, that once they left high school, this regular hangout she enjoyed so much was no longer going to happen. Their picnic table wasn’t gonna be theirs anymore, left abandoned for other misbehaving kids to take ownership upon once the new school year started. No more smoking together, no more listening to each other's cassettes, no more lying on the benches and pointing out funny cloud shapes until their faces were red with mirth. And now Eddie was talking about his future like she had a place in it, and Chrissy wondered if her future had enough space for Eddie too.

"Eddie? What's gonna happen after graduation?" she asked, tracing a happy face with crosses for eyes that was carved into the wood with her index finger.

"Dunno, I'll probably try to get a job during summer. Weren't you going to Asscrack, Ohio early for the preseason?"

"Yeah, but that’s not until August. And stop calling it Asscrack, Ohio! OSU is literally in Columbus!”

“You could have gone anywhere and still chose Ohio. What kind of demented person chooses to live in Ohio?”

“They’ve won the UCA Nationals three years in a row, I want to win too,” she shrugged. “But that's not what I asked, I meant it more like- I don't know, like, what's after graduation for us, y'know?"

"Oh," he looked at her carefully, trying to gauge her thoughts by her anxious expression. "Well, what do you want to happen?"

"I don't want us to stop being friends," she said, getting straight to the point. "I like hanging out with you, I like that I can be myself when you're around."

"I like hanging out with you too, really, I do, but I think your Mom might ground you until you're 30 if she ever sees us together," Eddie warned her.

"She doesn't have to know. We can… we can hang out in secret until I leave for college. And you can come visit sometime! You and Dottie and the guys. I’d love to see everyone again."

"You wanna be friends with the freaks?" he asked, disbelieving.

"You were the one who said I was a freak too!"

Eddie really wanted to believe her, he really did. He wanted to call Chrissy to tell her the news whenever something good happened to him, wanted her to come to The Hideout and watch Corroded Coffin perform before college inevitably made it impossible, wanted to pay her back for her support and advice by being there for her during hard times. He wanted her and Dot to become friends like he knew they could be, for them to have girl nights where he'd pick them up from a bar all rosy cheeked and giggly, singing Pat Benatar until they fell asleep in his backseat.

He wanted all of that, because he actually really fucking loved being friends with Chrissy Cunningham, Queen of Hawkins High and Head Cheerleader, but also because it would mean that they had never been so different after all. That high school cliques and hierarchy didn't mean shit once you were out of that dreadful place. That people could change, and come to understand each other and that maybe Hawkins wasn't the shithole town he desperately wanted to leave behind.

Eddie really wanted to believe Chrissy, but he didn't. Not entirely. Not yet. However, given recent events, he decided there was no harm in giving her the benefit of the doubt if she was so willing to extend it to him too.

“How about we start with you signing my yearbook and see where that leads us?” he offered.

“Only if you sign mine too.”

“Fair enough,” he smiled at her, and Chrissy had the feeling he wasn’t lying at all about her being his Maid of Honor-Best Woman-Whatever It Was Called whenever he got married.

And luckily for him, she was serious about accepting the offer too.

“Did you pick one?”

Eddie climbed back into his van with a bag full of Mexican food to find Dottie going through all his tapes, the cases balanced precariously on her thighs. The parking lot was quiet, but soon it would start filling up with misbehaving teens looking for a bit of fun on a Friday night. Hot Sam was another survivor from the Starcourt Mall fire; they had relocated to Mulberry St. in Downtown Hawkins after collecting a big fat cheque from their insurance company and had managed to infuse a little bit of nightlife into an otherwise deserted area. The owners were just grateful that the still-in-construction Taco Bell at the mall, in order to not associate themselves with a tragedy, decided to leave the town altogether instead of moving somewhere else, leaving the Hawkins Taco Kingdom to be disputed between themselves and the owners of Olé Amigo!, who quite frankly didn’t know what a poblano was even if it hit them right in the face. Dottie huffed loudly as Eddie turned on the van and began backtracking out of the parking lot, right hand behind her headrest.

“Why are all your tapes in the wrong cases?” she complained, snapping Mercyful Fate’s Melissa shut.

“Gareth thinks switching them out is the peak of comedy.”

“He’s such a gremlin,” she said, putting another tape in its rightful case.

“Which one are you looking for?” he asked, glancing at her hand shaking Dio’s The Last in Line’s empty case. Wordlessly, he ejected the cassette that was in his van’s deck and lifted an eyebrow. “It’s ready to go.”

“How did you-,” she interrupted herself and chuckled, shaking her head in disbelief while pushing it back in and pressing play.

He shrugged, heat blooming in his chest as the first notes of We Rock rattled his windows. It had been a coincidence, he’d been listening to it as he drove to school that morning, but there was a part of him that always got giddy whenever she willingly chose to partake in his interests. He knew she always carried around a couple of her fave tapes, and there were enough mixes with non-metal songs in his glove box, so the fact that she’d picked one of his favorite albums was nothing to scoff at. She didn’t always like everything he showed her, but she still tried to understand it because it was important to him, and that meant more to him than she’d ever know.

When they missed the turn that took them to the entrance of the trailer park, Dottie eyed him suspiciously, his face carefully schooled to look very nonchalant. His fingers were tapping the final beats to Breathless on the steering wheel when he pulled into a road flanked by trees on both sides.

“Eddie? Where are we going?” she asked, looking out of her window.

“It’s a surprise.”

“You know I don’t like surprises,” she said, hands starting to sweat and the skin on her neck prickling.

“I promise you it’s nothing weird,” Eddie said, lowering the radio to a low rumble and letting his right hand fall to her left knee. He squeezed it comfortingly, but it only made her more nervous. “There’s a place I like to go for a smoke at by the lake, I just thought you’d like to see it. We can go back home if you don’t like it but it’s not scary, I swear.”

“We’re going to Lover’s Lake?”

“No funny business,” he insisted. “It’s just a really pretty place to hang out. And we can leave as soon as you want.”

“Okay. Sounds nice,” Dottie said, heart racing as she placed her palm on top of his hand and squeezed back.

Eddie didn’t remove his hand from her knee until he had to change gears to get onto a dirt road, thumb rubbing in circles over the bone underneath her jeans. She wasn’t sure what was worse, the possibility of something happening between them or nothing happening at all. The anticipation was eating up her insides as he parked the van in reverse under a thick tree like he had done it a million times and killed the engine, cutting One Night in the City off. A gentle breeze ruffled the grass and leaves around them, dull silence threatening to swallow them whole.

“Stay here for a second, okay?” Eddie said, patting her knee a final time. “Don’t turn around, I’ll come get you when I’m ready.”

“Okay,” she answered, but her voice was swallowed by the loud slam of the driver’s door being closed.

She heard him walk all the way around the van, open the back doors and get inside. He shuffled around for a few seconds before he hopped off and hurried to her side, opening her door and unclicking her seatbelt.

“Close your eyes for me, yeah? I’ll guide you,” he said, nervous energy bouncing off his tongue.

“Eddie, you’re scaring me,” she admitted, voice weak, feeling his hand remove her backpack from her shoulder and the bag of food from her tight grasp.

“Trust me, you’re gonna love this,” he took both of her hands in his and started walking her to the rear of the van and closer to the shore. “Just follow me, follow my voice.”

“Please don’t push me into the water,” she said, memories swirling in her mind. Jeannie locking her into a dark closet at a birthday party while they played Hide and Seek. Howie “accidentally” shoving her into a muddy puddle during a rainy field trip. Eddie’s fingers gripped hers tightly.

“I would never, darling. Just a few more steps, I’ve got you.”

When they reached their destination only a couple of feet away from the van, Eddie let his hands roam from hers up her arms all the way to her shoulders where he gently applied pressure to let her know he was still there. He stood directly behind her, leaning forward a little bit to match her height.

“You can look now,” he muttered over her right shoulder, equal parts nervous and excited.

Eddie’s secret Lover’s Lake spot was a little natural clearing right across the lake houses that belonged to the privileged few in Hawkins. Most of them didn’t live there; their everyday addresses were located mostly in Loch Nora, but they used these particular houses as a weekend getaway sort of space, a secluded oasis in a shitty little town the rest of the country had forgotten about. Eddie found a certain charm in sitting in the back of his van staring at the twinkling lights of those giant residences, watching them throw their entitled rich people parties from a safe distance where they couldn’t see him intruding on their privacy. He’d get high and observe them come and go, the voices belonging to drunkards only rarely carrying across the water, wondering what would he do if he ever had a house like that.

The water licked the dirt edge with barely audible waves, crickets chirping in the distance, birds settling into their nests for the night. Dottie watched and watched, the moon reflecting on the unperturbed surface of the lake, the boy behind her sitting with his legs dangling from the back of his van, one of his cigarettes perfuming the air between them. It was peaceful; she could understand why he’d come here to clear his head, be alone with his thoughts.

“This is beautiful,” she whispered, not wanting to break the bubble that had formed around them.

“Told you to trust me,” he said, the side of his mouth lifting in a smile as she turned around to look at him.

If the lake at night had seemed beautiful, what was in front of her was downright mesmerizing. Eddie sat a little to the side, feet swinging back and forth in the air, his weight resting on his right arm while he held his half smoked cig with his left hand. Behind him, he had set up an upturned plastic crate covered in blue gingham cloth as a table, various cushions and blankets were strewn around on the hard wooden floor, and a small camping lamp rested on top of an amp that belonged to Jeff. The soft yellow light illuminated him from the back, his wild hair looked like a halo, his figure surrounded by his broken, frizzy curls. He had set her backpack to a side with his and the bag of food waited for them unopened on top of the crate.

“This is for you,” Eddie reached into his jacket and pulled out a thin envelope.

Dottie stared at it for a second before opening it, then at Eddie, and then back at the papers in her hand. Two prom tickets. One for her, one for him, she assumed. Is this a joke? It would be cruel if it was, and she knew him to not be cruel. Maybe to others, to bullies, but not to her. Trust me, he had said. The photo hidden inside her bag was screaming, begging to be released. She swallowed the knot in her throat and looked at him with wet eyes.

“W-what is this?”

“I was an asshole to you yesterday. A complete and total asshole and you had every right to throw your dirty sponge at me, and I’m sorry.”

“You were upset.”

“Yeah, I was, but… I guess I’m just so used to people judging me that I thought if I did it first, it would hurt less. And it totally doesn’t work like that,” he chuckled, flicking ash onto the grass. “I want to make it up to you. You’ve been so nice to me all this time and I’ve just been a fucking idiot.”

“No, you haven’t.”

“I have, but it’s okay. I’m not planning on being one anymore. Not with you at least,” he threw his cig to the side and extended his hand to her. Dottie accepted it instantly and let him pull her closer. “I know we said we were all gonna go together to prom, and that’s still the plan, nothing has to change. But I didn’t want you to have to buy your own ticket.”

“I’ll pay you back.”

“No,” Eddie held her hands in his. “It’s a thank you. For cleaning my room, for taking care of me when I get sick, shit, for helping me graduate. I’ll deny it if anyone asks because as Club Leader I can’t exactly pick favorites, but you’re at the top of my list, darling.”

“Really? Top of the list?” she whispered theatrically, thumb playing with his.

“There’s you, a small gap, then Erica because she scares me, a big gap, the rest of Hellfire, another gap, and Mike.”

“Why is Mike at the bottom?”

“Have you seen his hair recently? He’s trying to steal my look. Can’t have that, they’ll think I’ve gone soft.”

“You are soft,” she said, pointedly.

“I’m Satan’s lost son, princess, haven’t you heard? I’m corrupting children with my dice and cool dragon stories,” he grinned, thoroughly enjoying how easy it was to slip into banter with her.

Dottie looked at their entwined hands with a heavy heart. Here he was, opening up to her, accepting his faults and wanting to change, and she felt like such a hypocrite. All Eddie did was wear his heart on his sleeve. He was open, and honest, and even when he was scared and lashing out there was still a heavy dose of truth embedded into everything he said. He wasn’t a child who needed coddling, he didn’t want anyone’s pity because his life was rougher than others’. He just wanted to be Eddie, wanted people to look at him like that’s all he was: not a failure, not trailer trash, not a sob story. Just Eddie. And Dottie didn’t want to be Just Dottie.

Everything about Dorothy Burke had been kept under several padlocks from the moment she could talk, and every time something important happened, a new one would get added to the chest. There was a key for each padlock, but she guarded them fiercely, only lending them out to her Dad or one of her Aunts and Uncles, immediately asking for them back as soon as they had peeked at her secrets inside. There were systems in place to not have to talk about things. There were schedules, and lists, and routines. If everything looked right from the outside, then everything was right, so Dorothy Burke didn’t get into trouble, didn’t get bad grades, didn’t fool around with classmates who could look into her a little bit too deeply. Everything about her was so tightly wound and the screams coming from inside her backpack were so loud. Something. Had. To give.

“Eddie?” she mumbled. The sound of her own blood rushing in her ears was daunting. “There’s something you should know about me.”

“Okay,” was all he said, keeping his hold on one of her hands while she reached for her bag with the other one.

She put the prom tickets on the floor of the van next to Eddie’s thigh and opened the big zipper. He could see the pink envelope that had been tormenting him for a few days between two notebooks, but Dottie pulled out a piece of glossy paper instead. She pushed the bag aside like it had offended her, and offered the retrieved item to him. For a brief second, Eddie didn’t know what he was supposed to be getting from it. The man in the photo didn’t look like anyone he’d ever seen before, and the place where it was taken was a complete mystery to him. Only when he noticed a baby hanging onto the side of a white tub, yellow pacifier in her mouth and wild curls sticking out did it occur to him that this was a piece of Dottie’s past.

“That’s you,” he said, not really asking for confirmation.

“Yeah. And that’s my Uncle Johnny.”

“Wow. You were tiny.”

There was no date on the back of the photo and Eddie hadn’t been around too many babies to accurately guess her age, but he could tell that her Uncle looked very young. He was wearing an old dark red t-shirt with bleach stains and yellow rubber gloves, posing to the camera with a big grin and a sponge in his hand. He was cleaning something behind a white square thing; the full object wasn’t visible in the photo but if he had to guess, it was probably an appliance of some sorts. A washer or a dryer maybe?

“After my Mom died, we couldn’t afford rent on our own,” Dottie began, eyes stuck to the picture in Eddie’s hand. “My grandparents helped us for a few months but it just wasn’t sustainable in the long run. We had a lot of debts, my Dad was still paying his student loans, and there were so many medical bills, it was just… too much for one person to handle,” Eddie didn’t interrupt her, but tugged her a little bit closer so their knees were touching. “So when my Dad began looking into apartments closer to where he worked to save on gas, Johnny told my Dad that we should all move in together. His lease was up and I loved it when he babysat me, so it seemed like a good idea, y’know?”

“How old were you?”

“Around 11 months? I had just found out that if I grabbed onto things, I could stand up all on my own.”

“I can see that,” he lifted the picture. “Look at those chubby thighs.”

“Still got them,” she laughed. “My Grandma says I’ve got chicken legs.”

“Shit, princess, you can't say that and now show me those weird ass toes now,” he grinned.

“I said chicken legs, not chicken feet. Big thighs, small ankles,” she pushed him away jokingly and he pulled her even closer, his thumb rubbing back and forth on top of her hand.

“So you guys moved into this place?” Eddie looked at the photo again.

“Mm-hmm. No one wanted to rent an apartment to two 23-year-old guys with a baby, they thought it was weird. Like, what were they doing with a kid, y’know? They asked for my birth certificate once, it was such bullshit.”

“They accused your Dad of stealing you?”

“Yeah. It was just one time, and the guy was super weird, but still. I think… Well, I know a lot of landlords thought they were gay. And honestly who gives a shit if they were? Gay people need houses too! It’s not like they live in a magical land far far away. And especially in fucking New York City, like, Broadway is right there.”

“Yeah, no,” Eddie scoffed, his heartbeat rising a little bit. “Total bullshit. Fuck Reagan.”

“Fuck Reagan,” she repeated, and they both knew what they were talking about but it wasn’t the right place or time to discuss it. “That’s how Johnny became Uncle Johnny, actually. There was this apartment that was super cheap, great location, near a daycare, and the owners were this old couple, very traditional, so Johnny lied to them so they'd let us rent it. Said my Dad and him were brothers from different fathers, and had this whole speech about how family always helps family during hard times.”

“Go Uncle Johnny.”

“Honestly, he’s awesome. This is from the weekend we moved in,” Dottie pointed at the photo. “There was this old washing machine in the bathroom, the owners said we could throw it away ‘cause it was broken but when we moved it, the entire wall was covered in black mold. Like, you couldn’t even see the wall behind it, it was gross. My Uncle cleaned it up all on his own and repainted the wall so I wouldn’t get sick. That’s why I knew your mold stain was dangerous.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” she ground her sneaker into the grass. “I… It hurt when you said that I was treating you like a charity case because it wasn’t easy for us either while I was growing up, you know? We lived in that apartment for four years. There were only two bedrooms, and I shared a bed with my Dad until we moved on our own and my Uncle Rob built me a princess bed for my fifth birthday.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry, I- I didn’t know-”

“I’m not telling you this so you’ll feel bad. I’m telling you because I want you to know that I understand more than you think I do.”

“I know. I know you do, I’m just stupid,” he smiled up at her. “I do this thing sometimes where I convince myself that no one else in the world knows what it’s like to be me and Wayne has to remind me that I’m not as unique as I like to think I am. Not your fault, darling.”

“God, you sound like Ms. Kelly,” she giggled. “I think I’m… too emotionally constipated for my own good? I should probably work on that.”

“Is that not what we’re doing right now?” he set the photo to the side and finally let her hand go, only to pull her between his open legs for a hug. “Opening up and shit?”

“Yeah,” she let herself sink into his embrace. “Feels nice. Thank you for listening to me.”

“Thank you for sharing your story with me.”

They stayed like that for a few more minutes - just hugging each other, backs a little bit less loaded and hearts a little bit heavier. Before Dottie pulled away to put the photo and the prom tickets into her bag for safekeeping, she stopped for a second to kiss Eddie’s crown. It wasn’t a sexy kiss, or even a romantic one; she grabbed his head with both hands and cartoonishly said “mwah” loudly when she pressed her lips to his hair, but it was still charming enough to make him melt. He glanced at her hands and saw the damned pink envelope peeking out while she tucked away her things. Something was still left to give.

“Can I be nosy for a second?” Eddie said, lifting himself from his seat on the edge of his van to help her get in.

“Sure.”

“What’s that pink thing in your bag?”

“Pink thing?” she sat in front of him at their makeshift table and began unwrapping their forgotten tacos.

“Yeah, you were talking about it with Jeff the other day when we were at Gareth’s,” he said, acting nonchalant.

“Pink thing… Oh, you mean this?” she retrieved the envelope from her bag with one hand while she grabbed a plastic cup with her other hand. “It’s a Mother’s Day card! I always get one for my Mom and write her a little note.”

“That’s… that’s really sweet, princess,” Eddie said, suddenly feeling so very dumb. “You celebrate?”

“Yeah! Just like doing something special, y’know? I feel like she deserves it.”

“I get that. Wayne and I get breakfast at a diner and take flowers to my Grandma. ‘S nice,” he gave his taco a big bite. “D’you still wanna get together on Sunday? We can postpone if you have other plans.”

“Actually,” Dottie looked down at her food. They really were great tacos. “D’you wanna come over and celebrate together? I always bake a cake and do a little bonfire thing… It’s silly.”

“It’s not silly,” he shook his head. “I’ll come.”

“Yeah?”

“I mean, you are kinda bribing me with cake so…,” he said, downplaying the fact that the tips of his ears were red.

“You’re the worst,” she laughed and he beamed at her, a little bit of guac smudged on the corner of his mouth.

Maybe Dottie could trust Eddie with a key. Maybe she could give him his own to keep, so she couldn’t chicken out and ask for it back as soon as the morning sun made her rethink her choices. Maybe, with time, she could be comfortable enough to give him all her keys. But for now, eating the best tacos she’d ever had in her life with the boy who felt like getting into a warm bed after a long day, this first key was enough. It was only fair to give it to him; he’d given her a key to one of his padlocks too, after all.

taglist (comment below or shoot me a dm if you want to be added!): @munsonology

#bunny writes #small town fic #eddie munson x female character #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x oc #eddie munson fic #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x ofc #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #stranger things 4 #wayne munson #chrissy cunningham #joseph quinn #baby's first fic

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waiting-on-a-dream · 1 year ago

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Prisoner 007: Shigeru Rin - Trial 2

General info

Verdict: GUILTY

Physical changes: He's grown out his right strand of hair, reaching down to his chin while the rest of his hairstyle stays the same. His once dark purple strand of hair has been dyed turquoise. He's been diligent in following his usual routine, but the nightmare make it hard for him to sleep well, so eyes bags have formed under his eyes.

Behavioral changes: His whiny and demanding self from the first trial is no more. He's become more withdrawn and quiet, no longer interacting with anyone except Noa who approaches him first. The only request he's made since the beginning of the second trial is for some turquoise dye, which Noa requested for him. Why did he decide to dye his dark strand of hair turquoise? No one knows.

He's been having nightmares and hearing voices, which puts a huge toll on his mental state. He's always very tired now, his typical expression alternating between blank and sullen. His emotions are extremely unstable and he lashes out at his fellow prisoners when he gets angry. His self-imposed isolation isn't helping him either.

Trailer art: Rin stares at you blankly with his hands by his sides, standing surprisingly relaxed. Behind him, an elegant white wooden door with delicate carvings of flowers and flying leaves. The flowers are painted pink and their leaves a dark green, while the flying leaves are red and brown, embodying the themes of spring and autumn.

Voicelines

– Second trial trailer

I can't take it anymore.

– Character voice trailer

What are you doing here?

Cover info

Canon Milgram song cover: I love you (Yeah, he's basically like an angry Mahiru. The lyrics really fit his feelings towards Renho and his guilty verdict. Its fun to imagine him matching Mahiru's cheerful tone as well since its so unlike him.)

DECO*27 song cover: Candy Pattern (Ah yes, unhealthy relationships. Also, his first vd had the word candy in its name too, so that's a nice little detail.)

Non-DECO*27 vocaloid song cover: One of Repetition by Nekomushi (Gentle reminder that this is all based on Rin's perspective, and he really did feel hurt due to whatever Renho did. Haha :D)

Music info

Song title: Fall

Song preview: Life and death are two sides of the same coin. If only I could rewind time back ages ago. Maybe then I would have never gotten to know you. Did you wish the same?

Am I living? Am I really here? Endlessly, I babbled these questions to the void of wisdom. The answer never echoed back. Running and running, but never catching up. How pointless.

MV description: Most of the music video takes place in a park just like the first MV (Rin just loves this park huh?), but new locations like a hospital and Rin's school are featured for a brief second. The song itself is more emotional compared to his first song, and his tone shifts between lots of strong emotions throughout the song.

The MV starts with Rin lying on the floor of a small white room. The walls and floor appear to be made of the same smooth material. The camera rotates from a bird's eye view. Rin's eyes remain closed.

The camera cuts to a scene of a park in summer. The sun is bright and the leaves swaying in the wind are dark green. Children run wild in the playground as adults stand by, owners taking their dogs for a walk, a few old ladies using the outdoor gym equipment. The girl from the first MV steps into sight, younger and beaming cheerfully with a missing front tooth. The camera cuts to a young Rin sitting on a bench. Hs face is quite pale and sunken. Renho reaches out her hand. Rin takes it. She helps him to his feet.

Then a montage of Renho playing at the playground as Rin follows her around. She rocks furiously on the spring riders, barely makes it through the monkey bars, and squeals as she goes down the slide. Rin struggles to keep up, having to catch his breath at some points. He looks nervous as he slowly goes down the slide.

He gets back onto his feet and his surroundings change, the seasons going by like a sped up recording. He grows taller and his outfit changes with the seasons. Five winters pass and the surroundings stop changing on the sixth autumn.

The camera cuts to an older Renho walking along the park path covered with leaves. Rin notices her and runs over. He was slightly shorter than her when they were younger, but now they're the same height. There's a pile of leaves up ahead, and he pushes Renho into it. Some of the leaves fly up into the air when she crashes down. Rin laughs gleefully. Renho looks up at him and laughs as well.

The camera cuts back to the white room. Rin opens his eyes and gets up. A door appears by the wall in front of him. He starts walking towards it. A scene of little Rin walking through an empty hospital hallway, dragging a bag of fluids with him. A scene of an older Rin walking through a crowded school hallway. Back to the white room, where Rin pushes the door open. A crack can be heard from the audio. It reveals a smaller room inside, like a closet. A life-sized porcelain doll lies in the tiny space, limbs positioned in weird angles. It lacks eyes and has a large crack on its head, with purple hair and two dots painted below its right eye socket. A replica of Rin. Rin stares down at it apathetically, then closes the door. End.

Author's notes

The first picrew's only skin tone is more greyish, and the second picrew doesn't even have any mole or eye bag options. So the two pictures of Rin ended up not looking like each other. The second one looks more like Rin's healthier long lost bother or something.

I changed his dark purple strand of hair to turquoise just because it looked nice and definitely not because its so hard to find picrews with two shades of purple hair options.

I don't know where his deep lyrics came from. They came to me just like that, like Rin had possessed me for a while.

Picrews used: - https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/1171011 - https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/1453974

#milgram #milgram oc #ocgram #milgram project #milgram original character #prisoner 007: shigeru rin

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the-firebird69 · 7 months ago

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Springsteen outdoes himself, Night 2 at the Meadowlands (REVIEW, SETLIST, VIDEOS)

And Mark fishel is correct it's where I started cuz I lived down the street in Jersey and the meadowlands are in Jersey. In Las Vegas means The Meadows. So I'm going to name it that and they want to too and I can build a place myself but they say I probably won't get it up and we'll have to have some other people there but I agree because we need to do it and I'll have a big share and I do know about the layout and how it's going to go. I know how to do that and it's a great idea I have some kick ass ideas too like an elevated walkway that goes around the whole place if it's raining they walk underneath it oh he says wow that's weird it's like Tokyo and that's exactly where it is this kid's been around and sees it for a second okay you would not believe the memory is fast it's his and a lot of it's not no that's not true sun isn't she's always correcting him. So we're going to go ahead with it and it's a great idea and we have some spots and a hot spots and people will be there and he says we should have as an oddity it's different than casino areas a huge entertainment venue for performers and that would be it's not a it wouldn't be a stadium usually they do a stadium and you have to get time you also have performance there and it's really because that's what you're supposed to be doing is relaxing and going and watching shows and some comedies during the day and other accident at night you'll be concerts and a place to have a humongous outdoors one every once in a while every weekend boy this is going to be crazy he said you'd have like campgrounds outside of town you know what I think I like this idea I'm going to put it down to do and he says we like to talk about the areas and we own them and so that's what they wanted and they could be like a p.m. or CM however you want to call it and it would be an agreement and they'd have a few places and I do understand something they have other stipulations they're not really steep but they're some that you probably won't like but heck we don't know anything about these guys and this would be gambling place and entertainment and I like the idea of mixing it it's going to be The Meadows and he's thinking meadowlands because the Meadows is like a funeral home and I get that too meadowlands is some kind of fun place you can run around in and pick flowers so we have to make some Meadows did people can do that and have paths and people can get married out there like in Vegas I got to do this this is wonderful he's full of ideas but when he's thinking of the meadowlands that's what he's thinking of his jersey girl I got to get out of here this is too much

Tommy f

Yeah he's going in search of of me in Jersey and these idiot trumpsters are always dating him and dating and baiting and he ends up doing them is gross and they're all all sorts of times and we think that's where he's going yep everything is busting loose and he's going up there

Hera

Zues

Yeah that's gross but really we're talking to him it'll get them out of the get them out of their hair and meaning they're going to push them out anyways and it's happening and have these big trailer parks so they can just start building stuff so he wants to meet and it would be the mini meadowlands and rumor has it that Bruce Springsteen has a share in the ownership a big one well a small one and maybe another character of his we think and that's what he's saying it makes more sense well football you'd have to have a putzer and some small tracks and you can use the small tracks during the day I mean some days during the weekdays and some days when they're not using them for regular people to they drive these cars and he says wow that's cool and people would buy the cars you can have cars you can buy there like even the saline and the GT1 and the Cena we could sell there and that's you actually but you said you're not going to build it and yeah I'm thinking about it he says but probably not so really we can change the name to Cena and he's laughing saying yes and we can make him right away and I think it's a good idea all these outlanders so Tommy F says it is a good idea and he is tired of people having all these companies and not having one so he's thinking about it and we think it's a good idea and we would help make it or he would hire us to make it like he would hire Trump but we could be competent we have a lot of Corvette we can make the chassis quick enough and a regular chassis and he's saying good so we are on on all this stuff tons of work to be done right now and the empire is distracting people they say but we have to get to it

Thor Freya

I think this is great what a good idea and to make the car too and we can work on the design together and I do hear the changes are not much at all and it just make it work and it's less of a toy and more of a real race car and he says it'll be probably one of the fastest on Earth if not the fastest so you can actually just put a smaller motor in which is pretty cool it's a great way to do it because people can put the bigger motor in and they'll buy it and it will be a classy classy car it will be $3 million dollar Plus vehicle and wow I get that this is a real car so that's what they're talking about making and with a cage without one no but you won't see it and I know how that's done and the space age entry and into the vehicle is not going to happen so it's like Batman's and that's cool so I want to do this I want to get going already and he says the reason to call us is where project managers and we will involve ourselves and we get that she called the construction company they can fly stuff in they can build stuff and really take forever if we build and stick builder any type of building takes a while and these places are built and you just renovate them and he says you can fit the structural and move it and it's ready for finishes right now I get what you say so we did that before it works so I'm going to go ahead and do it and he knows what he's talking about so I know how to get going on it and ask for the car I'll talk to them and see if they know someone and they'll say we know someone at Pontiac that's great

Tommy f

We are telling you to print

Olympus

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lunartadpole · 2 years ago

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Eddie learned about two months into dating him that Steve is an active sleeper.

He was always a bit hurt when Steve wouldn't stay the night at the trailer park; dreaded watching Steve's car drive away after a night in. At first, Eddie thought it was a hit and run situation, a one night stand that spans more than one night. And yeah, it makes sense; King Steve probably just wants a new way to get his dick wet, got tired of all the babes and such. Of course this thing they have - whatever that is - isn't serious. It makes sense and still, Eddie's hurt.

But then he starts noticing things. Like Steve's reluctance to leave but his refusal to fall asleep no matter how late it is. And it's not just with Eddie either. He's noticed that Steve always seems to clock out early at any overnight event their little group have - DnD nights in Wheelers basements, Dustin's sleepovers, hell, even Buckley's movie nights. Steve is always first to arrive and first to leave.

Eddie just can't figure out why.

He goes as far as to ask Robin. Because if anyone can give any insight into the mysterious life of Dethroned King Steve Harrington, it's Buckley. But even she has no idea. She says she hadn't even noticed.

He gets his answer a week later.

They're in Eddie's trailer. Steve drove around after his shift, they're lounging in his room, Steve sitting up again the headboard, Eddie practicing his guitar, and it's midnight, bordering on Steve's usual check out time. But Harrington's been complaining about a rough day at work - something about being swamped and Buckley ditching her shift for boobies, Munson! She ditched me for boobies - and Eddie can see his eyes fluttering and his head lolling before quickly shooting up again. Rinse and repeat. Until Steve finally begins to bustle up and leave.

Eddie begs him to stay, half because he wants him to and half because there's no way it's safe to drive home when you're two fleeting seconds away from dropping comatose. They argue back and forth, Steve typically reluctant and a bit…nervous? Scared? Eddie doesn't know. And it doesn't matter because he wears Steve down and soon enough Steve is wearing Eddie's pajamas and the two of them are cuddled up in bed together.

Using Steve as his own personal Teddy bear, Eddie sleeps soundly that night.

At least, until about three in the morning.

Ever since Vecna, Eddie hasn't been the heaviest of sleepers. So when he hears banging in the kitchen rattling through the thin membrane walls, he's upandatem pretty quickly, abruptly women up to the fact that his boyfriend isn't beside him in the bed anymore. Another bang comes from the kitchen.

Okay, he's panicking.

Armed with the old tire iron he keeps by his bed for just an occasion like this, Eddie creeps towards the kitchen, mind racing. Who the fuck is here? Did someone break in? Something? From another dimension? Images play in head like worn film, images of Chrissy Cunningham floating in his living room, the sound of her bones snapping eerily similar to the banging now.

What he is met with in the kitchen is nowhere near as scary, but ten times more weird.

Because Steve 'The Hair' Harrington is in the middle of his kitchen surrounded by what little pans and pots the Munson's own.

"Uhm…Stevie?" he calls, ever so softly. And then louder when he doesn't get a response. "Steve?"

Steve stands like a ghost in the shadows. Eddie can't help but stare at his face, so relaxed unlike anything he's ever seen before.

Then. He speaks.

"I swear I left it here…" Steve mumbles, to himself or maybe to the dark shadows surrounding. The words come out slow and monotone. Hushed, slurred together in a broken string of consciousness. It does nothing to ease Eddie's worry.

"Left what here?" he asks, looking around at the mess for some item of Steve's he might've lost. All the while Harington just stands there, dazed.

Then. "Flowers. Told Eddie I'd get him flowers."

Eddie furrows his eyebrows, pushing forward into his boyfriend's space and thoughtlessly cups his face in his hands, making him look at him. Steve's eyes are just barely open, and they're glazed over with this lost, far off look. He doesn't look at Eddie, rather through him.

And somehow, Eddie catches up, a scoff of disbelief leaving his lips. Who would've thought?

"Okay, alright sweetheart," the grin is prominent in his voice, dripping with fondness. "You're still asleep, huh?" Something inside him surges and he finds himself grazing his other hand faintly across Steve's forehead to brush his bed hair out of his face. His eyes are all the more clouded over in sweet nonsense as Eddie pushes his hair into something that doesn't resemble a sad brown mop.

"I can't…remember where…" Steve mumbles, trying to break free from Eddie's hold but ultimately failing. He lets his head drop against Eddie's neck.

"Okay, let's get you back to bed, alright?" Because that's what you're supposed to do with people who sleepwalk right? Never wake a sleepwalker, that's what they say isn't it? "Hold my hand, it's OK Stevie." Pressed up close against him, Eddie breathed in the smell of Farrah Faucet spray and citrus shampoo and led Steve back into his bedroom, hand in hand.

"How about you try to stay in bed now," he says, leading Steve as he leans against him, skin warm and citrus and weary against his own, feeling a little too much like something Eddie wants to keep holding onto.

"Got somewhere to be,"

"Not right now, cmon," Eddie gently eases Steve down onto the bed, and surprisingly, Steve lets him. Not long after, Eddie is beside him, holding onto him tight once more.

In the morning, Steve wakes up confused, like he's surprised he managed to stay in one spot all night, but doesn't mention anything about sleepwalking. He does ask Eddie, "Did you sleep well? I didn't wake you, did I?" and Eddie just kisses him, tells him, "Best sleep I've ever had. You should stay around more often."

And when Steve agrees, Eddie decides not to bring it up.

It happens a few more times after that. Not all the time but more often than not Steve will stay over Eddie will wake up to him wandering about the house. The majority of the time it's stupid stuff; Steve sluggishly pacing around the room, Steve mumbling sweet nonsense to himself, Steve trying to take a shower in the hallway. Pretty harmless stuff.

Except for the time it isn't.

That time, they're in Steve's house, big and empty. That time, Eddie wakes up at 4am and just barely catches sight of Steve's fleeting figure down the stairs. Like most times before, Eddie is quick to follow him down the stairs towards the living room, staring blankly out the window. A metallic glint flickers across Eddie's eyes. His eyes widen with concern when he realises it's a kitchen knife. Steve doesn't move, but he's breathing real heavy, like he's just waiting for something to happen.

"Steve, darling." He begins, hating how his voice is cracking. "Will you come back to bed? Please?"

This time, Steve shakes his head. Frantic. Paranoid. Eddie watches his grip on the knife tighten.

"Can't." Comes the raspy, hoarse reply. "The lights. It's out there. Swear I saw it. I swear-!"

Softly, Eddie shushes him before he can get more worked up. He stays put a good six feet away, entirely out of self preservation. Harrington's deadly with a weapon in his consciousness and Eddie wouldn't like to find out what he does in his sleep, thank you very much.

"Saw what, love?"

"I heard a thud. It's so cold."

Oh. Oh shit okay.

Eddie isn't unfamiliar with nightmares. God, after what he saw it'd be weird if he didn't have them. After Mike's apparently real psychic ex-girlfriend cut ties with The Upside Down, Eddie was a mess. He couldn't sleep, plagued with visions of terror bat's tearing away at his flesh bit by agonising bit. He can't count the number of times he called Steve in the late hours of the night in need of reassurance. To tell him that it is over now.

Steve was a rock for him. Eddie almost envied him, with how easily he managed to readjust back into normality. Never did it cross his mind it might've all been a facade.

"Steve," Eddie begins, firmly and unwavering. Slowly, he begins to etch more into Steve's space. "Listen to me. The gate is closed. Vecna and the rest of his little hell beasts are gone."

In front of him, Steve doesn't move. He doesn't even appear to have heard Eddie at all.

Eddie swallows, trying to push the thought that maybe, after so near death encounters, Steve's finally gone mad, come undone at the seams, and this is what his mental state has come too: armed with a scarily sharp knife, ready to fight any sudden movement.

"Do you think you could put down the knife, dear?" Eddie suggests lightly, gently touching the outside of his hand incase Steve needs some sort of anchor to come back to. Underneath the edges of his fingertips, Steve's touch is warm, his pulse comfortingly steady, and Eddie holds onto it, selfishly, a little longer than he should have, that tightness he is becoming so acquainted with returning to his chest. He then slips his hand further within Steve's own, carefully taking the knife from Steve's grip and interlocking their fingers as if it were the most natural thing ever. As if it had always been that easy.

"There we go," Eddie praises as he places the blade down on the coffee table. "See? All better now."

"Better…"

"You're safe, Steve. I'm safe. Everyone is safe. Those things can't hurt you anymore."

"But- the lights-"

"Are fine." Steadily, Eddie begins to back out of the room, gently pulling Steve along with him. "Now let's get you back to bed, yeah? You still gotta get your full twelve hours of beauty sleep don't you?"

A dopey smile ghosts across Steve's lips as he huffs a laugh. It's barely anything. But it's enough for Eddie.

"Yeah you do," he teases. They're in the bedroom now. Eddie guides Steve underneath the duvet. As soon as he hits the soft cushions, he curls around himself like a child, protecting himself from the intangible cold or phantom nightmares, while refusing to loosen his grip on his boyfriend's hand. Eddie feels his throat close.

He has questions. How long has Steve been having these nightmares? How many of them result in sleepwalking? How many of them are violent enough to grab a fucking kitchen knife? Why didn't Steve tell him sooner?

But they can wait until morning.

#eddie munson #stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #steve/eddie #steveddie

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peppermint-toads · 2 years ago

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eddie saves up to take you on a “real” date

Eddie was thrilled. Excitement was thrumming in his veins the whole day, he couldn’t even sit still. His belt and wallet chain clinked together as his boot tapped against the floor. He drummed his fingers impatiently on his desk, waiting for the final bell to ring.

He hadn’t told you much, just that he’d pick you up at seven sharp and to “dress real pretty.”

He’d been saving up for a couple months to take you out. Really take you out. All your date nights so far had been at his house with movies you’d begged Steve to lend you for free from family video and microwave popcorn.

And Eddie was getting nervous. He was scared you’d find somebody better, somebody who could buy you nice things or lived in a nicer house, could take you to nice dinners every week.

He just wanted to impress you, and show you off. Even if it was just one night.

He picked you up right at seven, standing sheepishly on your porch with a hand behind his back. When you swung open the front door with a soft smile, he whipped out a small bouquet of flowers. They were gorgeous, and looked like they came from a real grocery store, not just little flowers he’d picked from the field behind his trailer (even though you loved those, too).

Tears pricked at his eyes when he saw you standing there in the most beautiful dress he’d ever seen. You even wore his favorite perfume. He was just so happy, and he felt so normal for once.

“Give me a spin, sweetheart.”

So you did, you twirled around once under the soft, warm glow of your porch light.

He held your hand, helping you down the steps and to his van where he opened the door for you, like a true gentleman.

The entire ride to the restaurant, Eddie was buzzing with elation. All the while you were pestering him.

“Guess,” he shrugged with a slight smirk.

“Uhmmmmmm, the bowling alley?”

He shook his head.

“Movie theater?”

“Nope.”

“Hmmm, a motel?” You winked.

He shook his head with a laugh as he pulled into the parking lot.

“Enzo’s?” You gaped. “Eddie, are you sure? You know I don’t need all this we can just go to yours and-”

He grabbed your hand, his warm grasp slowing your rambling. His big, brown doe eyes calming you.

“I want to.”

Truthfully, Eddie needed it. He needed to prove to himself that he could give you everything and more. Even though he knew you didn’t care where he took you, as long as you were with him.

He proudly walked you in, your arm linked with his. He stood tall with you by his side.

The two of you were seated at a small table in the back, two chairs and a red and white tablecloth. There was a little candle glowing between you, and twinkling lights lined the walls. It was all so perfect.

Eddie ordered for you, but not in a weird controlling way. He knew what you wanted, and he knew you wouldn’t order it because of the price. You smacked him under the table when the server left, and he just grinned at you because he could.

He felt so good being able to treat you. His heart and chest were light as you both devoured your delicious food.

Your plates had been scraped clean, and your bellies were so full, but when the server mentioned dessert, both of your eyes lit up. Dessert was always Eddie’s favorite.

You laughed when Eddie scooped up the whipped cream from the top of the tiramisu and smeared it on your nose. You scrunched up your face, grabbing your napkin to wipe it off.

He stopped you, “Lemme get it.”

He leaned over the table, and so did you, letting him carefully wipe it away. He was so close you could feel his breath on your cheek. Your eyes never left his. You were so terribly, helplessly in love with him.

TAGLIST: @smolserpent @loveyru @sunsetenigma @hbaramas @lubsana @callmedeadric @hellfires-whore @pleasentlycrazyworld

#eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fanfiction

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scoopssquad1440 · 2 years ago

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All Tied Up S.H.

Warnings: SMUT, bondage, AFAB! reader, sub!reader, dom!steve

~~~~~~~~~~~MINORS DNI~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Prompt: Steve didn’t know you knew so much about shibari.

The Hawkins hardware store was lit up on the dark street, the beginnings of winter causing dusk to come early. Steve’s hand was held tightly in yours as you stepped onto the curb. The bell of the door dinged as you walked through.

“I just gotta grab some lightbulbs, babe.” Steve said, heading toward the aisle labeled lighting. You nodded, following behind him. Unfortunately, the following was short lived as you passed through the paint wall. All the colors were a great distraction, and you pulled a couple of the sample cards out to check them against others.

You and Steve were now the proud owners of a trailer in Forest Hills trailer park. It was small and cramped, nothing like Steve grew up with. But you were making it yours. Painting the bedrooms, making a flower bed around the front porch. There was a special hook Steve hung for you where you placed your windchime. Domesticity with Steve felt so easy to slip into. He had this innate caring nature that paired with your compassion to create the most welcoming home. He still worked at the family video while you picked up shifts at the hardware store on occasion. You never wanted for anything, Steve always found a way to provide.

Green paint sample in hand, you wandered around the aisles in search of Steve. He was nowhere to be seen in the lighting section and the flooring was also a no. “Steve!” you called out. It was getting later in the night, only one other customer was in the store. You had passed him through the lighting. You wandered a bit more, taking a left down one of the aisles. Steve was deep in concentration looking at the many rolls of chains and ropes displayed on the wall.

“Steve, what are you doing?” you asked, a brow quirked up in confusion. “Huh? Oh, just looking at this rope.” He mumbled, grabbed the frayed end in one hand and tugging it taunt with the other. “Do you think this could hold a person?” he asked. You couldn’t help but feel your heart skip a beat. You looked at the rope with a frown, reaching out to touch it. It was rough under your fingers, itchy even. You didn’t know Steve was thinking about that kind of thing. You hardly strayed from vanilla sex, not that you were dissatisfied. “I wouldn’t use that kind of rope if you’re wanting to tie me up” you started, “I would use something silkier and less irritating, like this!” you grabbed a smaller, white rope with silky strands. “But I really wouldn’t buy rope for bondage somewhere like here.” You shrugged.

Steve was quiet for a moment and you looked at him confused. His cheeks were very red, and his hands were frozen in time with the thick harsh rope in his hands. “I…I was going to make a swing for the tree out front.” He stammered, holding up the short wooden plank that was tucked under his arm. Now it was your turn to be embarrassed. “O-oh yeah that should be just fine then.” You stuttered. The warmth in your belly sizzled away. He was still looking at you incredulously. “I-is that something you want me to do?” Steve said, not sure if he should pry. He felt this spark of curiosity in both his heart and his dick. You shrugged, despite every nerve in your body telling you to scream yes, “I like it. I’ve only done it a couple times.” Your shoes suddenly became interesting as you fingered the white rope in your hands. Steve crossed his arms in his Steve way, “And how did you hear about it?” He was trying to look confident, but he couldn’t help the way his heart was hammering in his chest, thinking about how beautiful you would look with rope caressing your body. And the way you would look in the heat of orgasm, arms bound behind your back, back arching as he held you in place. He shook the delicious thought away.

“Eddie gave me a book a while back because of a campaign we were planning. And he gave me the wrong one.” A blush fell upon your cheeks as you remember the awkward interaction. When you had sat down to read the new dungeon guide, you were met with a page featuring a beautiful woman suspended by rope, naked, and shiny with sweat. You had slammed it shut and let out a yelp. Eddie turned back, shocked by the loud noise in the library. “What’s the matter- oh. OH.” His eyes bulged as he grabbed the book back. He ruffled through his bag with red cheeks and handed you the actual dungeon guide. “Sorry about that.” he said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “What is that?” you asked softly, curiously.

And so began a three-month investigation into the world of bondage. Borrowing books from Eddie, experimenting with decorative rope pieces under your clothes, but never quite getting the confidence to ask Steve about joining in it. Something about the rope against your skin became this addicting sensation and imagining the loss of control when being restrained had infiltrated your brain.

“A book?” Steve said confused. You nodded, “Yeah, it was a book about bondage.” You finally took your focus off your shoes and met his gaze. He looked concerned, yet curious. “Why didn’t you ever bring it up?” he whispered, coming closer to you, eyes darting around to make sure you were alone. It was near closing, you knew there was only the clerk left here. “I don- I just…I didn’t want you to think something is wrong with me for being a rope bunny.” You said frustratedly, horror filling your features as the clerk approached and caught the tail end of the conversation.

“Uh… we close in a couple minutes.” He muttered, looking at you like you were a freak. Well. You are a freak.

“Can we get a couple feet of this?” Steve asked, holding up the end of the white rope in his hand, “We’re making a tree swing.” He glanced at you with a sly smirk.

----------

“So, it’s important that we talk the entire time.” You said shyly, poised in Steve’s lap. “Or I guess talk isn’t what I meant to say. We have to communicate.” Steve nodded in agreement, “Like a safe word?” he asked curiously. Your eyebrow quirked, “Where did you hear that one?” you asked. “Eddie.” You both said at the same time with a laugh following. “How about red for stop, green for go.” You suggested, thinking back to the crash course Eddie gave you, trying to educate and not traumatize you. “I can work with that. Do you still have that book?” Steve asked softly, rubbing his hands up your legs, playing with the edge of your silky shorts. You nodded, reaching under your side of the bed and pulled it out of the shoe box you kept secrets in. He took it from you gracefully, opening it up and flipping through. His eyes lingered on several of the ties and their step-by-step guide. “Can I pick which one we do?” he asked bashfully. He leaned the book forward so you could look at where his finger pointed. It was a relatively easy tie, putting your thighs and ankles bound together, a simple column linking your wrists to the leg tie. Though simple, the knots do take time to make and master. “I like that one. Are you okay with moving me around? I won’t have the ability to move around.” You peered up at him. He looked a little nervous, his hair flattening where he had run his hands through it a few times. “If you don’t want to do this, we truly don’t have to.” You mentioned, grabbing his hand and pressing a kiss against his knuckles. “I want to.” He said with certainty, squeezing your hand back, “I think it’s…beautiful. And I can’t stop thinking about seeing you like that.” He murmured.

He leaned forward, lips pressing into yours and hands pulling you closer. The swipe of his tongue brushed your lips and you happily obliged. You rested your hands on his shoulders, playing with the tank top adorned on his chest. There was no urgency, you had time. “Patience is the first lesson of roping” you could hear the echo of Eddie’s voice in your head. Steve kissed you for quite a bit longer, pulling away only to let you breathe and readjust.

“Would you like me to start tying?” he whispered against your ear. The warmth in your chest spread to your stomach and even down to your fingertips. “Yes, please.” You nodded, standing up to pull off your shorts and t-shirt. His hands followed yours, brushing against your sides, thumbing over your nipples. “God, baby. You are just so beautiful.” He praised, leaning forward to kiss your sternum. His lips made their way to your left nipple, pulling you to stand between his legs. A soft whimper left your lips, brushing your hands through his hair. “Hand me the rope.” He muttered, pointing to the two pieces wound up on the pillow. You placed it into his outreached hand, eyes meeting his with nervous excitement. “Safe word?” he asked, a soft hand brushing against your cheek. “Red for stop, green for go.” You rubbed your cheek against his hand. “Good girl.” He murmured.

He placed you on the bed, the book open with the instructions next to him. He pulled off his t shirt, pushed his hair back (only for it to flop back into his eyes) and got to work. He followed the instructions carefully, still messing up here and there, allowing there to be a shared giggle between you two. As he finished with the wrap on your right leg, he checked in, “Are you doing okay?” You nodded, “green.”

After a few more minutes, a couple more knots had formed, and he was finished. “There we go.” He panted a little, checking the ropes of his hard labor. “Everything feeling okay? Nothing pinching too tight?” He worried over you. You laughed, “Stevie, I am just fine. Now please start touching me.”

The rope was taunt just enough over your skin. There was a slight burn when you tugged at the rope, but it was not unwelcome. This was everything you were expecting from the feeling. Being at Steve’s mercy like this was not scary, it was comforting. You knew he would take care of you. He would never do anything to hurt you, he would protect you, and he would make you feel good.

Hands trailed down your front, tugging at ropes here and there, gently pinching your nipples and chuckling when you whined. Goosebumps followed his fingers as he dipped past your hips and between your aching thighs. This tie allowed him a full view of what this was doing to you. Your folds were slick with desire that made his mouth water. His finger swiped at your entrance, gathering the wetness and bringing it back up to lubricate your clit. A low moan fell from your lips, heading falling back while he kept the same pace. He watched you intently, adoring the way you struggled against the rope to get more friction from his finger. His other hand trailed up your thigh, squeezing your hip gently and falling down to your entrance. He pressed two fingers into you, keeping his other finger in a consistent rhythm against your clit. Your back arched, or rather tried with the restraint. “Fingers feel good.” You said dumbly, whimpering as you felt a fire building in you. “oh baby, are you gonna come on my fingers?” he cooed, easing a third finger into you. You whined, tensing up and starting to shake. “’M coming.” You cried, your orgasm flooding through you. Your thighs shook, muscles flexing as you rode though it on his fingers. “Good girl” he praised, giving you a kiss. You panted, staring at him with your mouth slack. “Color? Want me to move you before I fuck you?” He asked softly, pushing your hair from your eyes. “Green. And yes please, my foot is falling asleep.” You giggled. “Thank you.” He praised and rolled you onto your front. Ankles and wrists posed in the air and pussy full on display for Steve. He pulled off his pants and boxers, rubbing his cock slowly as he admired you. “Love when you’re all tied up, baby. It’s like a present for me.” He joked. You rolled your eyes and smiled as he settled between your legs. You could feel him press against you, hands on your thighs. He pushed into you fully with a deep groan, “You feel so good.” He whined, rutting against you slowly. Moans left your lips as he thrust into your sensitive hole. The grip on your thighs tightened as he sped up his thrusts. “S-Steve.” You let out a long whimper, already feeling the warmth building deep within you again. “You’re squeezing me so tight. Fuck don’t know if I’ll last.” His thighs slapped against your ass, pulling hard moans from your lips. You weren’t going to last from this. “I need to come, stevie, please” you begged, face shoved into the mattress. You were covered in a sheen of sweat and your legs were shaking. The rope burned deliciously against your skin. And then you snapped, coming hard on Steve’s dick, whimpering and gushing around him. “Fuck” he moaned, sloppily rutting against you as he came. “Good job, baby, good fucking job.” He praised, breathing hard as he pulled out and watched his cum drip from you.

His hands gently tugged at the knots, pulling them loose and freeing you. As the ropes fell, you felt fuzzy and warm. Steve quickly checked all areas that were covered with rope for blisters or abrasions. “The book said to take a shower and then treat any sores. I don’t see any sores, but how does some lotion sound when you’re done?” he reached for your hand, bringing you back to the moment. “Yes, please.” You murmured, standing up with him. “Did I get you all subby?” he smiled, leaning down to press a kiss against your forehead. “mhm.” You smiled lazily and waited for him to start the shower. “Thank you for taking care of me.” You said, hugging his arm gently. He brushed your hair off your shoulder and pressed a kiss there, “You’re my girl. Gotta take care of my girl.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things #stranger things imagine

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urfavstargirl1 · 2 years ago

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So for dia de los muertos, I was thinking about what it would be like if Latina!reader (specifically Mexican-American bc it is a Mexican holiday but her family lives in the US) introduces Eddie to the holiday

Even though they’re dating or best friends, he’s only mentioned once that the reason his mom isn’t in the picture is because she passed away several years ago. He doesn’t like to talk about it much, but she knows his mom meant a lot to him.

So she explains how “Day of the Dead” is a holiday celebrating the lives of our loved ones that have passed over. That we celebrate their life and what it meant to us. To help keep their spirit alive. Even though it’s mostly celebrated in Mexico, her family carried on the tradition here.

So she explains that the holiday is celebrated by setting up an altar with a picture of that person, a candle, and some of their favorite foods or items. Some people even go to visit their gravesite if they were buried and bring the items there. They also tell stories about that persons life and their favorite memories.

It’s a bit unusual to him at first. He’s not a particularly religious or spiritual person. But then he finds comfort in the idea that his mom’s spirit is still out there, watching over him and Wayne. That even though she’s gone, there’s a chance a part of her is still with him just not in a physical sense.

So he asks for her help in setting up small altar in the trailer. It’s just a small photo of her he keeps stashed away in his night stand and a small tea light candle he found in the junk drawer, but it’s something. He finds some wild flowers in the woods behind the trailer park and lays them down in front of her picture. He even goes to pick up some moon pies from the grocery store because those were her favorites, now of which are his favorite too.

“If I went to go visit her at the cemetery, would you come with me?” Eddie would nervously ask her. And of course, she’s more than happy to be there with him. They even go so far as to pack a small picnic.

They sit on a blanket in front of his moms grave, lay some flowers, and sit in silence for a bit before she asks Eddie about her. She starts off light by asking what his moms favorite music was or what she liked to do for fun. She even asks Eddie about his favorite memory with her.

And somehow, maybe it’s because it’s a holiday, but it feels easier for Eddie to talk about his mom. It doesn’t hurt so bad when he imagines she’s there, smiling down on them.

“My mom never really liked the metal stuff. That was more of my old man’s doing. But she did like the happy stuff. She always raised the volume whenever they were playing Elvis or The Beach Boys on the radio.”

“She liked to sing too. My old man always hated it, but I thought she had the prettiest voice I’d ever heard. Even if she was just humming as she did stuff around the house. She was the one who encouraged me to start playing. I’m pretty sure I get all my musical genius from her.”

Eddie continues to tell stories like that and slowly he starts to become happier. Like saying everything he’s ever thought about her is lifting an invisible weight off his chest. He likes talking about his mom again, even if it’s just to her, well, and Uncle Wayne too.

For a while, it was hard to even think about her. It always made him sad that she was gone and angrily with his dad for how he treated her. But the less he thinks about her, the less he remembers, and he vows to himself that he’ll never forget the most important person in his life.

#Eddie munson x reader #eddie munson headcanon #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x you #urfavstargirl1

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sugar-petals · 4 years ago

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can you give us more thoughts about domestic yoongles? the taemin's one (wich I love) just made me miss the cat boy so much ;o;

i have a phd in househusband yoongi so let me fire out some ideas for ya.

myg at home headcanon

🐱 word count. 1.9k | fluff, slice of life, slight nsfw mentions, x reader, bullet points

The doorbell sound is a recording of Yoongi imitating a doorbell. He’s such a meme. Ceci n'est pas une pipe.

Seemingly, he teaches himself a new recipe every week. To perfection. Yoongi is very particular about sticking to the recipe and wielding his kitchen tools in the right way. He collects knives, olive oil, and still hates cutting onions.

He separates sleep time, work time, and couple time as the holy trinity. For each, he switches his mood.

Blushes easily no matter for how long you’ve been together.

Establishes his own radio show where he DJs at one point.

Yoongi keeps an extreme track on the garbage schedule. He knows exactly what is due when. Separating the trash is a must. That includes sorting out fake friends trying to get between your relationship. Your social circle as a couple is extremely deliberate.

Yoongi deems himself a terrible host for guests. Unless Hoseok is there to drag him out, it's true he rather stays in the kitchen or at the barbecue preparing the menu courses rather than making small talk. He leaves the hospitality bits to you, however you want to go about it.

What he lacks in conversing with guests, he makes up in bed, God is absolutely fair.

He sings and hums pretty often and has his own vernacular of extraterrestrial uwu noises. It's an alphabet that you have to yet decipher but it's incredibly cute.

Self-made paintings everywhere around his house.

Yoongi hasn't gone clubbing since grammar school. The most he does is going to a restaurant at lunch with very close friends. And always in a work context. His private life is so secluded from everything else and paparazzi just don't spot him anywhere, Dispatch thinks he must live abroad.

Very well, he does consider his big ole house a separate country. It's a living organism with a studio, gym, trophy room, small-size basketball court, and vastly equipped kitchen. A home theater as well, he likes American movies (like Inception) and Korean action genres, and you can stream whatever you fancy in there whenever you like.

Yes, he has underwear with cute little bears on.

There's even a little pond in the backyard. Yoongi, Pisces he is, likes fishes after all. Sometimes he sits at the edge of the 'Little Ole Min Lake (LOML)' and stares into the water for literal hours with his chin parked on his palm.

His fridge is so high-tech and futuristic, even Yoongi is rendered clueless by its AI sometimes. The washing machine, too.

Yoongi watches RuPaul’s drag race. What did you expect? He finds it so humorous.

Owns lord knows how many comic collections.

Favorite holiday destination: New York.

Christmas is basically 50% you unveiling new music equipment to him in the garage and Yoongi almost fainting at the sexiness of it. The other 50% is spent holding hands and orgasm after orgasm until the new year since you loose track of time.

Goes on long rants why he’d marry you again every weekend.

Making you presents is his specialty. Always accompanied with a hand-written note. He writes a lot of things by hand for you in general. Texting, basically never. Always on paper.

No sex without a blanket and socks on. Yoongi gets cold very very easily and just doesn’t like showing skin. You buy him a heated blanket for his birthday, he even uses it in his studio chair.

Chronically addicted to making out.

Matching black outfits and glasses.

Laughs at even your worst jokes or phrases you didn’t expect you even uttered.

Yoongi owns the phoniest, most secretive-looking black car ever and nobody knows about it. Even he forgets he owns it, in fact he genuinely acts like it just doesn’t exist. Hilarious. And that guy has a level 1 Korean driver's license. Which allows him to drive trailers and busses and fucking trucks, and construction machines, let that sink in.

It's really a genius curse. Yoongi being put to the test will always deliver but he won't choose to execute his full skillset if he doesn't have to. Well, pragmatic. He's not as phony as he thinks he is, which is even more hilarious.

He uses that behemoth of a car so scarcely because he'd rather have things delivered to his doorstep and he's stingy with gas. Also, he doesn't like traffic and driving because of the traumatic shoulder accident and his tendency to space out. Translation: You drive that thing... that monster... it really is an impressive, fast, and scary machine.

If someone devious ever even remotely manages to invade his privacy and get past the doubly-installed security system, he has enough money to deal with it no matter what.

If it concerns your privacy, he's a red belt. And owns Jin's number if a taekwondo master is required. Jimin's if it needs someone with kendo skills.

If Yoongi needs someone to go on a complete rampage, Jungkook lives just down the block. He can sprint to Yoongi's bunker I mean mansion within 45 seconds. 30 if it's very urgent. 20 if the reward is an instant ramen splurge with Yoongi's black card.

He has a sexy, glamorous sword collection hanging on the living room wall anyways, so. Who the hell is dumb enough to mess with him and his expensive lawyer in the first place.

But just in case, who knows... Yoongi settles matters shruggingly, anonymously, and with cash and he's too exhausted for violence, but don't underestimate his deter-min-ation and network for emergencies. Also, he is Agust D after all.

He will bonk a naughty burglar or kidnapper across the head with a wooden cooking spoon or take him down by throwing a basketball if the situation requires it. Damn, his reflexes are so fast, a feral cat in motion. So, lean back and sip on your drink of choice. Things are cared for.

If Yoongi is the one being kidnapped or a highly skilled stalker invades the property at night when he's fast asleep (nothing can wake this man during certain hours, strong REM right here): Don't forget that honeyboy is a Dodgers fan. There are signed baseball bats everywhere in this damn house.

In that sense, your parents visiting you here for the first time thought you were an undercover thug couple. Not to worry mom and dad, you both just like sports very much okay.

Yoongi walks around in all black clothes and the rooms are all seemingly dark. Even if you live together, you don't know his skin care routine. It's clear to you he's some sort of vampire.

Since Yoongi always forgets to remove his makeup, you made it a habit to wipe it down when he's about to pass out. He won't lie, he enjoys that kind of affection.

Holly is your resident child. You're essentially a family.

He insists to tackle this by himself, Yoongi sees his therapist monthly. Not shifting responsibility is something he's stubborn about and he pours his emotions into writing. You will do conversation about deeper stuff, but he says it's mostly up to him and his own mind. He dislikes burdening you or opening up too much and it's something to respect rather than force him about. If he wants to share a thought, he will. It doesn’t mean he can’t trust you or sucks at communicating (we know that he’s direct). Yoongi simply can’t put that much pain in such few words nor should you alleviate it for him.

Calls from the manager faze Yoongi as much as Jimin is bothered by gravity. If he’s busy kissing your body slow mo, who the hell dares to disturb his worship.

This man had so many let-downs and interpersonal catastrophes in his life, he's super discerning with people. Because he rolls that way, during their first meeting Yoongi uses his psychology certificate on your friends. You see him squint at them, he listens very closely. After they pass the vibe check aka meow radar, he befriends them, too.

Yoongi doodles Grammy trophies everywhere to manifest them.

Yoongi shaves his legs.

All the sex toys he’s ever bought are black. Gotta vibe in style.

He spends ridiculous amounts of time in the studio but he's yours for the remainder of the night, breakfast, and he makes a lavish lunch and dinner.

Um, consider his head parked between your legs. The Hongkong line was not a joke.

Doesn’t mind you squishing his cheeks whenever and for how long you like.

Every other weekend he gets flowers, vouchers, and gifts — not because of fans, they don’t know where his house is, but because he donates so much.

Namjoon often drops by and cleanses the area with his crystals.

Yoongi is a photography major so you can ask him to take professional, ceiling-high black and white shots of you.

Feeding each other food lovingly. Man, this guy got lips.

He set up a library just for you, in the exact historical aesthetic you like the most. Send him the link to any book you want, it's basically in the online shopping cart already. As I said, he wants to make you presents like every week.

Sometimes he sits on the other end studying English videos and vocab while you read. And yes, he's already 95% fluent but pretends being merely intermediate. He knows technical terms even native speakers have never heard of.

He collects pajamas and earrings.

Swears on the phone.

Namjoon being the horniest member is a cover-up story. Yoongi masturbates almost unreasonable amounts of times, by himself and in your arms when going to bed. Not gonna lie, it’s a sight to see his hands at work. He’s almost equally obsessed with fingering you once you ask him.

Yoongi was the one asking you to move in and almost had a nervous meltdown before meeting up with you to tell you just that.

He’s the little spoon and of course a sleeping burrito to hold tight.

Finds you equally attractive in any state or styling. Yoongi practices what he preaches, he always reacts the same and says the same.

Jams out to outrageous beats Namjoon sends him by dancing in the studio. You walk in on him every time. Was embarrassed at first, now you dance along.

Has bought you a life-sized Yoongi pillow and customized you a giant Shooky to hug when he’s not at home over night.

Owned a wine cellar until he quit drinking. Turned it into a piano room instead.

Only you know Yoongi has a serpent and dagger tattoo.

Scrubs the bathroom religiously.

The house smells like restaurant food and his extravagant perfumes half of the time.

Sometimes he has to remind himself he’s married to you and not his coffee machine. He shall be forgiven. You can’t complain that he doesn’t love you enough, nor is he ever not adorable when drinking his latte.

Never wears short sleeves. It can be scorching and he’ll wear a jacket.

Tell him and the cap stays on during sex.

He grows his hair out and puts it in a low bun. The bangs remain.

Yoongi has installed the most fire-proof building in the entire city it seems. That he wanted to be a firefighter when he was young definitely shows. Figures the house has to be protected from heat: His blasting studio music and Yoongi himself are just way too sizzling.

Still melts into a puddle when you kiss his nose.

Couple sunrise watching.

#yoongi #yoongi hc #yoongi x reader #bts #bts x reader #bts hc #yoongi scenario

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mrs-gucci · 4 years ago

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There seems to be a darker, more violent take on Clyde floating around right now and I LOVE it!! I’m working on one for him too!

Since you say open for darker requests, I’d love to hear your take on a more violent Clyde! He could be saving you from a stalker. Clyde can show him what a real bad ass can do and then show you how well he can treat you too lol! He could be protecting you from someone at the bar. He could be showing you his special forces skills after some gets aggressive. You name it lol!

Secrets of the Blood Moon {werewolf!Clyde x Reader darkfic}

author's notes: helloooo! my friend shannon, thank you for this request!! I am also a fan of the darker take on Clyde and I hope I did it some justice!! I worked really, really hard on this one, and I’m super pleased with how it turned out.

**PLEASE HEED THE DARKFIC WARNING!! THIS FIC INVOLVES SEVERAL VERY HEAVY AND VERY DARK THEMES, SO PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION!**

warnings: angst. smut. hurt/comfort. a minor car crash. mentions of alcohol consumption. rut. knotting. breeding kink. werewolf stuff. attempted mating bite. murder coverup. clyde feels guilty.

tw's: noncon touching (not by clyde). involuntary attempted sexual assault (werewolf clyde pins her down & dry humps w/o consent, but human clyde doesn’t know he did it nor would ever intend to do it). blood & gore. graphic depictions of murder and violence. human-hunting. depictions of human body consumption (is it cannibalism if he’s technically a wolf when it happens?). werewolf sex.

**this is a work of FICTION. the author does not attempt to condone the actions/behaviors of the characters written.**

word count: 5.9k

my taglist peeps: @frank-and-honey @shygirl268 @icarusinthesea @gildedstarlight (if you’d like to be added to or removed from my taglist, the link to the google form is HERE or on the top of my masterlist.)

Last Night

Stepping out of your car, you’re instantly suffocated by the thick humidity of the West Virginia evening. The sun paints cotton candy across the sky as it sets behind the trees on the mountainous horizon, the almost full moon hot on its tail, slowly rising on the other side of the sky.

The blood moon comes tomorrow, and from the old folk tales your mom used to tell about the deep West Virginia countryside, some weird shit goes down under the crimson moon. You never really believed her. What all could happen in lil ol’ Boone County, anyway?

The moment you step into the refreshing, air-conditioned Duck Tape, you’re immediately greeted by a loud call of your name.

“Y/N!” You smile and wave at Jimmy.

Clyde looks up and smiles at you as you come and sit down at the bar next to Jimmy. He serves the customer before coming over to talk with you and the eldest Logan.

You lean over the bar to give him a kiss, earning a couple hoots and hollers from the bar crowd, which made you both laugh as you pull away.

“How was work, buttercup?” He asks, wiping off some glasses. “Weren’t ya doin’ that one presentation today? How’d that go?”

You’re always so flattered that Clyde actually pays attention when you talk about work stuff. Most guys just smile and nod, but Clyde actually listens and remembers. He even remembered your one year anniversary at the company you currently work for, sending you takeout from your favorite place along with some flowers.

“Yeah, it was alright. Boring as hell, but the partners seemed pleased, so that’s all I can really ask for at this point.”

Both he a Jimmy give a small chuckle, nodding before Clyde mixes your favorite drink, setting it down in front of you a few minutes later. You thank him, and the three-way conversation continues before the bar door swings open.

Something about the man’s entrance makes you look over, already smelling trouble as he steps over the threshold. His eyes are glued on you, a smug smirk etched on his expression.

A hush falls over the patrons for a few seconds, all eyes on the leather-clad man. Clyde’s hackles are immediately up, body tense as the mystery man saunters over, plopping himself down onto the vacant stool next to yours.

Things on the floor continue as normal, the chatter picking back up, and you subtly scoot a little closer to Jimmy.

“Bartender?” A thick New York accent calls.

Clyde walks over, plastering a fake smile on his face, seemingly the epitome of southern hospitality.

“What can I getcha, sir?”

The man gives Clyde a once-over and snickers. “No, seriously, where’s the bartender? I’d like a drink.”

Your grip clenches around your glass. You absolutely hated it when people were dicks about Clyde’s hand.

“Seriously, I am the bartender.” He states firmly. “So, what can I get ya?”

His tone sends a chill down your spine. Normally, Clyde just shuts down whenever someone starts poking fun at his missing hand, but tonight, there was a certain air of frustration, of dominance.

You just thought he’d finally cracked, after years of dealing with this bullshit. But as you would learn, there was an alternate explanation for his sudden outwardly alpha-like behavior.

The guy seems to back off a little bit, just asking for a cold Coors straight from the bottle. You startle a bit when Clyde slams the bottle down on the counter in front of him, and you could swear his eyes turn a light grey for a second before returning to the dark brown pools you’re familiar with.

Everything’s quiet for a little while, the man sipping his beer in silence, before he turns to you. He doesn’t say anything at first, simply allowing his eyes to drink in your seated figure.

“What’s your name, baby girl?” The beer smell of his breath is strong as he leans in. “You lookin’ for someone to keep you company tonight?”

You roll your eyes. Douchebag. “Nope. I’m perfectly content just sitting here, thanks.”

Clyde’s watching the interaction like a hawk as he makes someone’s drink. It’s a wonder he can concentrate on the drink when his thoughts and eyes are glued to you.

His slimy hand touches down on your bare thigh, just above your knee, and you jump in your seat. He grins, trailing it up as he leans in even closer.

“Are you sure? I could show you a real good time...”

Glass shatters from behind the bar and then, Clyde’s grabbing the man by his biker jacket, tossing him onto the floor with an almost superhuman strength. You stand up, appalled, as the man on the hardwood scrambles to get up.

An icy grey begins to frost over his sweet chocolate irises as Clyde clenches his fists by his side.

“Don’t ya dare touch ma girl, ye pervert.” He growls, voice lower than you’ve ever heard it. “Someone ought to show ya what respect looks like.”

The bar has fallen pin-drop silent, all sets of eyes focused in on the developing scene. He cocks his fist above his head, snarling as he readies to pounce on the helpless man.

It’s then that Jimmy hops up and puts himself between the two men, holding his hands up in front of Clyde. “Don’t do this t’ yerself. Ye know what’ll happen if ya do.”

This seems to bring him back, the warmness flooding back to his irises. His shoulders slump as he huffs softly, pushing past his older brother angrily, storming into his office and slamming the door behind him.

Shakily, the man stands and puts a twenty down on the table before running out of the bar, bell jingling against the wooden door as it eases shut after him.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The rare blood moon hangs in its place against the pitch black sky as you pull up to the Logan’s trailer home. There aren’t any stars in the clear night’s sky, despite it being the dead of summer, but you don’t think much of it as you approach the shadowed porch.

Moths flutter around the dimly flickering porch light while you peek through the windows, which were as black as the night. Not a single light was on.

Odd. The Pontiac’s parked in its normal spot outside.

You flip the threadbare ‘welcome’ mat up, revealing the rusting gold key beneath. Sticking it in the lock, you turn until the door pops open, an eerie creak accompanying it.

"Clyde?” You say, looking around the trailer’s living room as you flip the living room lights on.

You call for him again. Maybe he’s just taking a nap. “Clyde?”

Still no response.

Now, you’re getting worried. There’s no note, nothing noticeably out of place; in fact, it’s almost all too still. It gives you the creeps, how still and quiet it is in here.

The scent of suspicion thickens the air around you, and you just get the most awful feeling in your gut that something bad is happening or is about to happen.

Adrenaline begins to pump through your veins as you quickly walk around, peeking in the kitchen, and in the spare room. The air seems to thicken again the closer to draw to Clyde’s room, and you push the door open with bated breath.

You’re absolutely mortified at the sight before you.

Shreds of carpet, fabric, and mattress stuffing is scattered the floor, and giant claw marks have torn straight through the drywall. The blankets and comforter, at least the remains of them, are disheveled where they lay across the clawed-up mattress.

His vanity mirror is almost fully shattered, and the products that once sat atop are now tossed across the floor. The chilly summer’s night air flutters the curtains on the opened window above the bed.

The first thought that comes to mind is a bear attack of some kind. Now fully freaking out, you’re wondering how in the world a bear got into the trailer, and why it only seemed to attack Clyde’s room. You scramble to grab your phone from your purse with shaky hands, dialing Jimmy’s number in haste.

Was this one of the blood moon enigmas mom warned about? No, no, bear attacks are pretty common around here.

It takes a few rings before he picks up.

“Y/N?” He sounds out of breath, exhausted.

“Jimmy, hey. Do you know where Clyde is? I’m at the trailer, and--”

Something that sounds like a growl rips through the speaker, followed by a woman’s voice.

“Is everything oka--”

“Mellie, I can’t help ya right now! I’ll be there in a second!” He yells in the background. “Sorry Y/N, you were sayin’ somethin’?”

“No, it’s alright. I’m just at the trailer, and I peeked into Clyde’s room...”

“Ya didn’t touch anything, did ya?” His voice is rushed.

You shake your head, eyebrows furrowed. “Uh, no, but--”

The growl comes again, louder this time, and it almost sounds like it’s...a voice. A very deep and very animalistic one, but a voice nonetheless. And it was saying something, although you couldn’t really hear clearly enough.

“Jimmy, do you know where Clyde is?” You’re getting a little impatient.

“Don’t worry ‘bout Clyde, he’s okay, he’s, uhh, here with us.”

“Oh, uh, o-okay.”

But tonight was supposed to be your special night together.

“Y/N? Listen real close, now. I need ya to get outta the trailer and go home, right now. Don’t linger, and refrain from touchin’ anything in the trailer. Lock all yer doors n’ close all the windows when ya get back home, okay? ‘N don’t go outside for the rest’a the night.”

Okay, now you’re starting to get fearful. “What--”

“Jimmy!” Mellie’s panicked voice comes through the phone speaker again, this time a bit clearer. He curses under his breath.

Her cries clearly rattled the eldest Logan, and he quickly tells you to just do what he said and then hangs up in a frantic state.

You’re frozen for a moment, but then you quickly scurry outside to your car, frantically looking around as you scramble to fit the key in the driver’s side door. By some miracle, you hold your hand steady enough to unlock it, quickly shutting the door and turning on the engine, peeling out of there like a madwoman.

Suddenly, as you go to pull out of the driveway, a strange apparition appears at the edge of the wood across the street. You squint, trying to figure out what the hell it is. Whatever it is, though, it’s panting heavily and looks...inhuman.

It’s standing on two legs, but its large, probably almost seven feet tall if you had to guess, and must’ve had some type of black fur or skin since it almost blends in with the darkened forest.

The reddish light of the moon is the only light that reflects upon this mystery creature, before it seems to notice your car idling in the driveway. The crisp light grey pupils seemingly glimpse into your soul as the creature looks upon you.

Clearly, now, you can decipher what exactly it is, although you’re in utter shock and skeptical to think it real: A werewolf.

You quickly put the car in reverse, slamming down on the gas, flying backwards for a few seconds before colliding with the trailer’s tin wall. Your head slams forward onto the steering wheel, trickles of blood dribble down your forehead and nose as your consciousness is lost.

When you come to, only a few minutes later, you groan as the welt forms on your forehead. You look around, groggily, seeing that your car is in drive but isn’t moving. Surely when you’d passed out, your foot would’ve come off the brake and you would’ve rolled away...

Stepping out carefully, you find that some bricks have been placed in front of all four tires, effectively keeping the car at a dead standstill.

Who in the world did this?

Then, you turn your head and walk slowly around to the front of your car, seeing the remnants of sharp teeth marks on your bumper. You’re frozen, a lump slowly crawling up your throat as the realization hits.

A low growl comes from behind you, and your worst fears have suddenly been realized. You slowly, carefully spin around on your heels, afraid that one wrong move may make you tonight’s surprise entree.

Your eyes meet the soul-piercing grey’s of the werewolf, the one you’d seen at the edge of the forest minutes earlier. The one that seemingly saved your life, but...how did a werewolf know what to do?

As you continue to gaze at the large being before you, you’re struck with a sense of familiarity, almost as if you’d met them before. Strange, because you can’t recall ever encountering a werewolf. Hell, you’ve never even seen a wolf before, other than in pictures. Surely you’d remember coming into contact with a seemingly impossible biological phenomenon such as this one.

His presence is scarily comforting, and you find yourself briefly wondering what it’d feel like to be enveloped in his woolen arms. Well, arm, technically speaking. This particular werewolf seems to be missing the lower half of his left paw.

Then, your mind connects the dots, and you’re shocked to your very core. It wasn’t a bear that attacked Clyde’s room, it was Clyde. This werewolf that’s standing before you is Clyde. That’s why Jimmy and Mellie sounded so frantic and breathless on the phone; they must’ve been trying to keep him contained.

But why? Werewolves usually recognize the important people in their human lives...right? That’s why he’d saved you from rolling off...

Your headlights’ reflection was speared by your figure, creating a shadow that covered most of Clyde’s form, except for the very tips of his paws, which had enormous claws emerging from beneath the thick layer of fur.

“Clyde?” You whisper, and he seems to soften for a moment, falling down on all threes.

Just as you swallow the lump in your throat and begin to cautiously approach the creature, hand outstretched to allow him to smell you, his eyes suddenly darken, the once snowy grey now more like the color of storm clouds.

He snarls, white teeth shining in the moon’s moody crimson-tinted reflection, and you immediately backtrack. Oh god, I’m fucked.

Your bottom collides with the front of your car, the engine thrumming lowly as it idles happily, grille warm from the machine inside. The headlights are now fully shining on the creature, fur shining under the bright lights as he approaches, lines of drool strung between his sharp fangs.

“C-Clyde, please,” You plead with the creature. “It’s m-me, Y/N, your g-girlfriend. You know m-me, you don��t w-wanna do t-this...”

It doesn’t seem to do much to dissuade him, the animal within now overshadowing the kind, gentle man you know and love. No, this creature is something else. This isn’t your Clyde.

The wolf stops short of the hood, where you’ve crawled up onto and are laying back, raising his nose up in the air, sniffing. You’re perplexed by this action, but it becomes evident when his ear prick and he says, in that same deep, animalistic voice that was in the background of your call with Jimmy,

“Mate.”

And then, he’s pouncing, trapping your hands above your head with his one arm while his legs scramble to find a good grip on the metallic surface of the car, hips rutting frantically.

His muzzle dips down, wet nose running along your jawline and neck, teeth scraping dangerously against your thin skin. He quickly settles on a spot behind your ear, growling as his pink tongue darts out to begin lapping at the spot.

You’re completely still, both physically restrained and unable to bring yourself to even try to move as the creature drags his fangs across the skin behind your ear. Your car is rocking back and forth with his hips’ violent movements, dragging his enormous cock against your lower stomach.

He pants into your ear, breath hot as he prepares to sink his sharp fangs into your tender skin, marking you as his forever...

“CLYDE!”

Jimmy’s voice pierces through the still of the night. Crickets stop chirping for a moment, and Clyde’s body stills. His head whips around, snarling at his brother.

Mellie’s right behind him, and she peers around him, trying to look at you. “Y/N, are ya alright?”

“YYYeah,” You manage, somehow. “I-I’m o-okay.”

Clyde hops down, all three feet planted on the ground, hackles up as Jimmy takes a step forward. “Mate.”

“She ain’t yer mate.” Jimmy says, calmly. He points to you. “Look at whatcha done to ‘er, Clyde. Would a mate look like that, huh? Look at ‘er, Clyde, she’s all beat up and scared outta her damn mind.”

The wolf visibly stands down, slowly turning his head to look back at you, seeing the scratches on your wrists and the marks on your neck. He sees the bit of wetness on your shirt and shorts, from his slick.

He hangs his head and begins to cry, whimpering and whining as he sprints off, surprisingly agile and quick for a wolf with three paws, across the road and back into the woods.

His blood’s boiling, he’s angry that he couldn’t defend you against Jimmy, mad that his alpha instincts had failed him. Even as a werewolf, one of the most powerful beings in the forest, he was still weaker than and overshadowed by his showboat older brother.

Loud barks of anger rip through him as he masterfully maneuvers through the forest, weaving through the trees, dodging thorns, leaping over the fallen tree trunks.

The sky suddenly begins to empty down onto Earth, the cool summer night’s rain a welcomed refreshment on Clyde’s fur. He looks up at the blood moon, huffing softly as he silently curses the orb for bringing this condition to him each full moon, as he did every single moon before this, and will continue to do with every one after.

He reaches his cave a few minutes later, stopping dead in his tracks when he smells smoke coming from inside. He’s on high alert, now, as he moves to peek into the cavern.

There, he finds a lone man sitting by a very small fire, rubbing his hands together over the heat. He’s clad in head-to-toe tree camo with a shotgun laying just out of arms reach.

This man’s scent feels awfully familiar, Clyde thinks, but it takes him a minute to figure out why. And, when he does remember, Clyde is suddenly not so sympathetic for the unwanted visitor in his cave.

The wolf’s mind falls to a certain memory from last night at Duck Tape. This is the jackass that thought he could get away with feelin’ you up. The one that poked plenty ‘a fun at his missing hand.

Clyde’s still-hard cock presses up against his furry stomach in excitement, tongue licking over his razor-sharp fangs. He couldn’t protect or avenge you last night, again due to Jimmy, but maybe he can now.

Jimmy ain’t gonna get in my way this time ‘round.

He can’t just come running into the entrance, no, that allows him too much time to grab the gun. He thinks, and thinks, until he remembers the connecting cave that he’d recently found on the last full moon. He bets he can get in there and creep up behind the man, do a sneak attack.

He’s salivating in anticipation as he bounds down to the opposite side of the cave, paws padding lightly against the soft gravelly dirt floor, trotting along carefully.

The man is none the wiser to the wolf’s presence, and the hum of the loud rain certainly wasn’t hurting. A loud crack of thunder suddenly rips through the forest, vibrating the ground. Clyde freezes briefly as the young man curls up further, chin resting in the gap between his knees.

Predatory instincts pumping through his veins at an all-time high, he crouches down as he stalks closer and closer to the unsuspecting body by the small fire. The anticipation is almost too much to bear, now right behind the man, moving in slow motion so as to not alert his victim.

When the time is right, just as the next clap of thunder rumbles the rocks, Clyde pounces. He grabs the man’s shirt, dragging him out of the cave with an unprecedented swiftness. The fire is extinguished with the tussle, leaving the cave shrouded in darkness, the shotgun laid abandoned on the ground where he’d put it.

He struggles against the wolf’s grip, fabric ripping violently the further his body’s dragged along. Clyde throws him out onto the forest floor, pawing at the ground like a wild stallion as the disheveled man scrambles to his feet.

His hands are shaky as he holds them up in front of him, as if trying to calm the creature like a domesticated dog. “E-Easy, easy.”

If he could, Clyde would’ve rolled his eyes at the man’s pathetic attempt to talk down at him. He snarls, watching in amusement at the way he startles and stumbles back.

Clyde’s got the man backed against the trunk of an old oak within seconds, and he stands up on two legs, glaring at the much smaller figure. He bares his teeth, a wolf’s version of a devilish grin.

“Run.”

It seems like the man is caught in between being shocked that this wolf just spoke English and being chilled to the core by his word. He sputters for a moment, brain smoking as it churns on overdrive, before his legs carry him as quickly as they can down the mountainside.

The wolf casually trots along after him, in very little rush to catch him. He’s throbbing hard now, the excitement translating into pure arousal. Clyde knows these woods like the back of his hand; there’s no where for this man to hide from his inevitable fate as the wolf-man’s next meal.

His head continuously whips around, meeting the grayish-white orbs tucked behind a thick coat of jet black fur. In a frenzy, he tucks himself behind a large tree, catching his breath.

Twigs snap in seemingly all directions, his breath heavy as his eyes flicker all around the dark, damp wood, the only light coming from the crimson-tinted orb above. He reaches back and wraps his arms around the tree’s trunk, panicked.

A low growl rattles his eardrums and he looks to the side, seeing the black creature right at his side. Clyde’s head snaps to the side, looking directly at his victim.

Crying out in fear, the man leaps forward to make a run for it, but is quickly taken to the dirt by the wolfish creature. The man squirms and screams out for mercy, for God, and Clyde knows what he has to do now.

He quickly sinks his teeth into the back of the mans neck repeatedly, effectively severing the spinal cord, leaving the man completely limp and defenseless. A quick and effective manner of disabling a victim, he’s learned through hunting animals, but keeps him just alive enough to see what’s being done to him.

Clyde flips the limp form over, now on his back, and his eyes are wide as he watches the wolf above him, black fur now stained red around the mouth, stare down at him with a hungry gaze.

His mouth opens, probably to beg for his life, but it’s too late. Fangs sink through his shirt and into the flesh of his chest, just above where his rapidly beating heart lay.

The thump-thump rhythm slows, then stops, the life leaving his body. Sweet copper tang coats the wolf’s tongue as the body is drained of its remaining energy.

There is little feeling better than watching the life slowly and steadily drain from the eyes of a victim, and suddenly, Clyde’s throbbing arousal has reached an almost unmanageable point.

But, he wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to devour his freshly-caught prey, especially while it’s still warm. So he digs in immediately, carving further into the hole over the heart he’d already created, ripping out the vital organ.

He holds it triumphantly between his teeth for a moment before setting it aside. His craving is more for the meat, he’s never been much of a fan of organs, so he gets to work separating the good meat from the corpse.

Once he’s done, he lifts his nose in the air, howling loudly. He’s never been this hard before, he swears it, and there’s only one person that can satisfy this urge:

You.

For a wolf on three legs, he reaches your house in record time. He can already feel the wolf-ness fading steadily, the human beginning to peek through the cracks. But, his rut doesn’t give at all, and he bounds up the steps and scratches at your door.

You’re startled by the noise, already a gut feeling you know who it is. When you open the door, Clyde’s wolf figure is sitting politely on your doormat. Should you let him in?

He pushes past, whimpering as he does so, before you can make a decision. You shut the door slowly before turning around to face the creature. He seems a bit different than when you saw him earlier, seeming a bit more human.

You stand against the door, back pressed up against it, looking down at the wolf in your living room.

“Y/N.” He breathes, huskily, attempting to ignore the hardness pressing up against his wooly stomach. “N-Need you. Please.”

He’s ashamed as he stands up on his hind legs, wrapping a clawed hand around his oozing cock, jutting his hips out as if to show off for you. The alpha in him needs to show you how suitable of a mate he is, what strong pups he can give you.

“It hhhhurts, b-buttercup.”

The battle going on inside him, animal versus human, is painfully evident on his expression. Your hearts been ripped in half as you watch him struggle with himself, the human trying to overpower the animal, and the animal trying to fight off the human. He doesn’t even know what he did to you earlier.

“What do you need from me, Clyde? I’m here to help you, honey, I’ll do whatever you need.”

His eyes widen in surprise, but its quickly replaced by a look of what can only be described as pure, primal hunger.

“Floor. A-All fours.” The wolf-man manages, desperately humping his hand to offer some relief. “G-Get the lube, ffffuuuck, I mmuhhmight hurt ya without it.”

You rush to get the lube, placing the tube next to you as you pull your leggings down, exposing your bare cunt. Clyde watches with an eager anticipation as you spread yourself for him.

As soon as you’re into position, he practically falls over on top of you, hips rutting uncontrollably as he smoothes lube over his drooling cock and lines up with your entrance.

“B-Buttercup, I...I’m sssorry ‘bout what’s ggon’ happen. This ain’t me, ppuhpplease remember that, mmkay?”

You nod, tearing up at the pure agony in his voice. “I w-will, Clyde.”

His hips shove forward, a choked howl escaping his lips, balls tightening. You cry out, the burn of your walls stretching to accommodate his girthy length more prominent than usual.

Veins bulge out of his neck, jaw clenched as he begins moving, mercilessly plowing into you from behind. He plants his clawed hand next to yours, loud and desperate scratching noises accompanying the wet squelch of your joined torsos.

The carpet is shredded, hardwood floor scratched permanently by his feet as he humps you with a desperation unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. This really wasn’t Clyde, but you soon realized that you exactly mind this side of Clyde, this primal instinct, this roughness. It was arousing, bittersweetly so.

When you look over your shoulder at the wooly mass moving behind you, your eyes widen. You didn’t notice the shiny substance from a distance, but now that he’s up close, you see that it coats his snout and has even dripped down onto his breast.

A gripping fear bubbles in your stomach. But then, you rationalize immediately, before you find yourself too deep down in this rabbit hole of worry. He probably just hunted a deer or a rabbit or something. He’s a fucking wolf, remember?

You almost sigh out loud in relief, but you keep it in, instead moaning along with each of his thrusts.

“D-Did ya like muhmmahhmm--ma w-wolf cock?” He asks.

You nod. “Y-Yeah, ohhh god, I liked it.”

“Gonna gguh-give ya real nice p-pups.” His muzzle rubs over the spot behind your ear, the same one that he’d been after earlier, smearing some of the crimson across your skin. He licks it with as much consistency as possible, considering the speed and intensity of his hips. “F-Fill ya u-up, knot ya gggood ‘n deep.”

You’re almost positive he’s talking pretty much nonsense at this point, his rut brain having completely taken over. You know you’re not gonna cum, but it doesn’t really matter; you’re doing this for him, after all.

“Oh g-god, I’m cummin’, I’m gonna--”

He pauses his hips, howling softly as he cums. But this time, something else begins to swell, and you cry out as it does so.

“M-Ma k-knot,” Clyde breathes in explanation. “Keeps it a-all inside y-ya.”

You nod, not really knowing what all he’s talking about but not really caring for an explanation right now.

“‘m gonna h-havta stay inside y-ya fer a lil while. S-Should be ‘b-bout 30 minutes or so.”

His tongue begins moving over your cheeks and neck, something that makes you smile, that helps you remember that your beloved boyfriend’s in there somewhere.

The half hour waiting period passes, and as much as you’ve loved snuggling with your boyfriend (who’s wolf counterpart is relatively cuddly, despite previous reservations), you’re happy to have him off you.

After wishing you a final goodbye, citing the need to ‘clean up his cave a bit’, he trotted back out the door and galloped like a madman (wolf?) back out into the shadowed wood, leaving you alone once more.

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It’s all over the news when you flip on the TV a couple days later. Hunter Found Slain in Boone County Woods, Bear Attack Suspected.

You have this awful, sick-to-your-stomach feeling that what happened the other night, when Clyde came to your house still in wolf form with a snout and chest covered in blood, had something to do with this.

When the picture of the victim came up on the screen, you audibly gasp, recognizing the face. It’s the guy that was feeling you up at a few nights ago at Duck Tape.

Oh god, no.

Suddenly, the door flies open, and Clyde’s panting as he rushes in and shuts it behind him. He looks pained, bottom lip trembling. “Have ya s-seen the ne--”

“...Police are still investigating the scene...foul play has not yet been ruled out...”

His entire demeanor falls, and the tears fill his eyes. He’s visibly shaking. You stand up and rush over to him just as he collapses on the floor.

You’re freaking out, trying to confirm what it is you’re pretty sure you already know.

“C-Clyde, did you...?”

He looks up at you from where his head now rests in your lap. “I c-can’t quite remember, b-but I think...I think I m-might’ve.”

Sobs wrack through his body as he cries hoarsely. You’re in shock, somehow hearing the words makes the reality suddenly hit like a damn semi-truck. You run your hands through Clyde’s slightly matted mane, soothing him as best you can.

“Clyde, it’s okay, baby. It’s alright, it’s not your fault.” You whisper.

“Y-Yeah it i-is, though. I k-killed ‘im.”

You try to stay strong, for Clyde’s sake, but the tears are swelling in your eyes at an uncontrollably fast rate. “But you d-didn’t do it o-on purpose, h-honey.”

His face seems to drop even more when he sees that you’re about to cry. He sits up shakily, pulling you into a big ol’ bear hug.

“Oh, buttercup, oh god, ‘m sorry. I didn’t m-mean to drag y-ya into all ‘a t-this.”

You sob into his shirt, wrapping your arms around him, holding him close. It’s hard to believe that this man, this kind, gentle man, could’ve done something like this on purpose. Clyde would never hurt a fly.

From what he’s told you, which granted is very little, the line between werewolf and human for him is quite a blurry one. He seems to only be able to remember parts of what happened, and his subconscious is only there for part of the time.

Which means that he’s technically innocent, since he can’t remember nor could he control his canine impulses or instinct. As far as you’re concerned, werewolf Clyde and human Clyde are two different beings.

“I-If anyone ever f-found out ‘bout ma c-condition...”

You pull away and look up at him, holding his face in your hands. “Clyde, I-I’m not gonna turn y-you in.”

“What?” He looks at you with a furrowed brow, like he’s surprised to hear your words. “Y-Yer not g-gon’...?”

Shaking your head, you swing your leg over his lap, hugging him once more while your face settles into the crook of his neck.

“No, of course not. I know you’re a good p-person, and like I said before, it’s n-not you. Your w-wolf side is not really you, Clyde, at least not entirely.”

Clyde looks down at you with an incredibly grateful expression, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He tilts your head up with one of his meaty fingers, immediately pressing his lips to yours.

The kiss is relatively short, just a showing of his gratitude, of his love for you. When he pulls away, you maintain eye contact.

“Okay, so most of the solid DNA evidence will have been washed away by the rain and tampered with by the elements over the past few days that the body’s been outside. Plus, they aren’t looking for wolf DNA, and even if they somehow knew, your wolf DNA wouldn’t lead to your human identity, at least I don’t think so...”

Hours and hours of watching countless true crime shows, movies, and documentaries are finally paying off.

“But, do you remember leaving anything, anything that could indicate foul play? Really search your memory.”

He puts his metaphorical thinking cap on, closing his eyes as he tries to recall anything of use from that night, but nothing comes to mind. His eyes swell with tears as they blink open and he shakes his head. “I can’t ‘member anythin’.”

“That’s okay, Clyde. They won’t find out, I promise, they won’t.” You kiss his neck. “For now, let’s just try to relax and we’ll keep an eye on the news. Will you come snuggle on the couch with me?”

Clyde smiles softly, nodding as you pull away and stand up, extending a hand to him. He takes it, standing up seconds later. As you walk into the living room, he says your name, causing you to turn around with a slightly perplexed expression.

“Thank ya.”

You smile brightly. “I love you, Clyde.”

“I love ya, too, darlin’.”

111 notes · View notes

graysonpcrk · 3 years ago

Text

[ GRAYSON PARK, HE/HIM, CIS MAN, STEVEN YEUN] is a THIRTY-THREE year old CRIME LAB TECHNICAN from HAZZARD, WV. They are CLEVER and ENERGETIC but also ANNOYING and JITTERY.

BASICS

FULL NAME: Grayson Kwang-Soo Park

NICKNAME(S): Gray

BIRTHDAY: September 22th

AGE: 33

SEXUALITY: Asexual

HOMETOWN: Hazzard, WV

BIRTHPLACE: Portland, OR

RELIGION: Atheist (formerly Christian)

FAMILY

MOTHER: Hwa-Young Park

FATHER: Eung-Soo Park

AUNT(S): Joo-Eun Park (Dad's side), Hyo-Sonn Park (Dad's side)

UNCLE(S): Hyun-Shik Lee (Mom's side), Young-Jae Park (Dad's side)

SIBLING(S): N/A

COUSIN(S): Too many to count

PET(S): Un gato named Ducky

APPEARANCE: Scruffy, and somewhat muscular. Gray doesn't keep his hair well kept, usually waking up and whatever his hair is, that's how it's going to be for the entire day. When he's wearing his glasses, Gray always seems to squint despite having them like an old grandpa, but he wears them from time to time or when he needs to read some text.

STYLE: There's not much to say about his fashion sense, since it usually just boils down to a nice button up shirt and some pants, maybe a jacket if Gray's feeling bold. He has his Korean name tattooed on his forearm, and some small hibiscus flowers on the lower back. In a more casual explanation, he dresses like a funky uncle or cool dad would, if that makes sense.

FAMILY: Gray's family immigrated to America during the crisis in South Korea, where his family resided in the Pacific Northwest, staying in Oregon while bringing the rest of their family to America as well. His mom and dad don't speak English very well, and Gray used to be his family's translator when going out in public. The rest of his extended family spread out in the PNW, whereas his family moved to West Virginia for more job opportunities when he was eight. Gray still gets postcards and letters from his extended family, and he's hoping someday he might be able to get to do a family reunion.

FRIENDS: Being Korean in the west side of America, especially during the 1970's-1980's growing up, Gray didn't have much friends due to language barriers and looking different from the others. Of course, coming to school with "weird" food also didn't help him much, but Gray learned to grow past others' inability to look past differences and grew to be happy being alone. Of course, he doesn't mind the casual conversation these days and loves to chat with whoever wants to.

LIVING SITUATION: Hazzard, home sweet home. Of course, his trailer home isn't much, but he does like living in his cozy home. Gray splurged on a nice armchair that he likes watching TV in, and he has a good collection of books on his bookshelf. Of course, there's some times he wishes maybe he could live in Prosper or somewhere nice, especially in the winter time when it gets crazy cold, but he gets by and that's enough. His parents live in the next town nearby, which is about thirty to forty minutes away. He doesn't mind the solitude, especially since he has little Ducky with him.

WORK: Grayson works as a crime lab technician -- he's the go to in the county for forensic analysis on crime scenes and what not, but his lab is in another town, the same town where his parents live, since the County Department doesn't have the funding for a lab or anything like that. It's a little tough driving back and forth, but hey, he has a steady job, and it pays the bill. Usually he'll give his two-cents on crime scenes or suspects based on the evidence, but he's not an official officer or anything, he's just the technician. His typical day is just inventorying evidence and examining it.

SCHOOL: Honestly, Gray did pretty well despite his first language being Korean. He adapted quickly and didn't get any bad grades, and was basically somewhat above average in school. With not a lot of friends or interests in clubs, that meant that his focus went into his academics. He liked science and all the funky terms that went along with it, and with his love for cheesy crime shows at the time, Gray went into the criminology path, taking classes in community college and working his way up. Of course, it took him a while before he gained his Master's degree, which then he started working as a crime lab technician.

ASPIRATIONS: Well, the American Dream for him and his family was achieved in their eyes, Gray didn't really have that itch to become more, and he liked living a quaint life without many riches. Of course, when PANIC didn't come back his graduating year, Gray felt a little cheated out of a future, but he still got through college and here he is, living his life in Hazzard. There is a little part of him though, that feels bad, that he can't provide more for his parents, or reconnect his family.

RIVALRY: Hazzard people are good people, and Gray will always argue that. Of course, he doesn't care where you came from, as long as you're a good person, you know? His work makes him come everywhere in the county, so he's seen both sides and there's not much to say. Rivalry? More like, uh, stinky!A

#dphq:task #//THERE WE GO FINALLY #/ about.#//TADAAA

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nct-lian · 4 years ago

Text

nct 2020 reacts to the “visions of you” trailer

warnings: murder, use of knives (stabbing), blood

the video started off with nct’s group greeting, introducing themselves and saying what they’d be doing in the video

“today we will be doing what, shotaro?” taeil pointed to shotaro who was sitting comfortably beside him

“uhhh we’ll be watching lian noona’s new dramas trailer!”

all the members then clapped and cheered, happy she was acting again

johnny cut in and said that lian was sitting behind the camera on her phone and that she was also there

lilizens are crazy and he knew the members would get hate for “leaving her out”

BUT ANYWAYS :D

xiaojun, who was seated in between mark and jungwoo, took the initiative of putting his finger on the mouse to see how long the video was

“wah—! this is the longest trailer ever, it’s five minutes long!”

a chorus of “woahs” and “welp it must be interesting then” sounded through the studio and it made lian laugh behind the camera

everyone else there after that: pls she’s so cute

“would anyone like to summarize the drama briefly?” taeyong scanned the room, looking for a member who volunteered

sungchan raised his hand up high, offering quickly

“okay well it’s about a student who gets murdered, but stays in the world as a ghost and falls in love! right, noona?”

lian beamed and gave him a thumbs up from behind the camera when she saw that he was looking for her approval

“yes! good job, channie :)”

“let’s watch it, yes?” jungwoo hit play excitedly, already anxious to watch it

the trailer started out with soft music playing in the background, a pair of friends skipping through the hallway of what looked to be a school

the camera panned over to their front profiles, and it showed park mikyung (lian) and what people found later to be “kim minji,” her best friend

lucas shouted out, “예뻐 !! (pretty)” when he saw her smiling brightly

she laughed quietly, careful not to disrupt the viewing, yangyang following after her

it was dark outside, and it was clear the two friends are heading out of the school after night classes

when they both exited the front doors of the school, a couple other students waved goodbye with a smile, “bye mikyung! and minji, too”

“ahh~ she’s the popular girl” lian could pick up what shotaro said in japanese and nodded

taking the camera off of the best friends, it went over to a boy who seemed to have been looking at them from afar, almost hidden away behind a wall

the mysterious boy mumbled, “just you wait, mikyung-ah” and chenle had to slap a hand over his mouth in order to hold in the loud ass gasp trying to escape

“minji, i’ll call you tonight! i have to get home, my mom is probably waiting” mikyung could be seen giving her friend a hug and walking away from campus and onto the sidewalk

she gracefully flipped the straightened hair out of her face, pulling her phone out of her backpack along with her earbuds

“play taemin-sunbaenim!!!!!!!!” haechan suddenly yelled, the group chuckling afterwards

it was like haechan predicted what would happen, as they then saw that she chose to play a shinee song on her walk back home

“AYYEEEE”

though the fun was cut short as the members watched the screen closely, mikyung stopping in her tracks as she slowly turned her head to look behind her

“omg she hears footsteps, MIKYUNG BE CAREFUL” yuta raised his voice

she swore she heard footsteps, but shrugged it off anyway and continues walking, bopping her head slightly to the beat

mikyung began hearing the footsteps come closer, and everyone watched as she picked up her pace in walking

it wasn’t long before she turned her head around again, but this time she saw the same boy from the school

the members gasped out loud, yelling at mikyung to run and that it wasn’t safe there

“YAH MIKYUNG- RUN GO HOME OMG RUN AS FAST AS YOU CAN” “MIKYUNG GET OUT OF THERE” “LIAN YOUR CHARACTER IS SO DUMB”

mikyung didn’t run, though, and she just stared at him

“ahh- mikyung-ah- i was just heading home, are you heading home as well?”

she could only nod at him and wave goodbye, but she waited until he was out of view and in front of her so she could go back to her home while feeling safe

the rest had happened so quickly, mikyung running as fast as could to get back to the safety of her household

“FINALLY- RUN MIKYUNG” yangyang cheered

the trailer had skipped over to her finally entering the apartment she lived in comfortably with her mom, but her mom hadn’t seemed to have gotten home yet

she took off her backpack and walked into her room, taking out the contents and spreading them across her desk neatly

she dropped the backpack onto the floor and walked back to the kitchen to get some grapes to eat while waiting for her mom

“gosh why is this so scary?” hendery piped up, watching as mikyung washed her grapes and put them into a bowl, heading into her room for what they assumed to be a late night study session

a time lapse of mikyung writing down notes and flipping notebook pages took over the screen, and now an empty bowl could be seen sitting in the sink

a ring went off, startling renjun a little bit

the members all clung onto each other, the trailer gradually getting scarier and scarier even though there was almost nothing happening just yet

after the ring sounded, mikyung looked over her shoulder and saw a faint shadow hiding behind one of the curtains that had covered the sliding doors of the apartment

“OH MY GOD SHE’S GONNA DIE-“ jisung shouted

“SHUT UP JISUNG DON’T SPOIL ANYTHING” chenle shot back

mikyung let herself gasp, hastily feeling around her body to check whether or not she had her phone on her, and to her luck at that moment, she did

she pulled out the phone and hurried to enter minji’s chat room, typing as fast as she could, mikyung sent a simple text that said, “call 911. i need help”

the floorboards creeked behind her, and she knew whoever was behind those curtains was coming closer and closer

if she didn’t start moving now, there was an incredibly high chance she could literally die right there right now

mikyung put her phone back into the pocket of the skirt that came with her school uniform and tried to run, but something griped around her waist before she was able to escape what was once her safe place

she grunted, feeling the grip tighten

“i’m terrified” mark’s eyes widened at the scene playing out in front of him

mikyung wanted to scream, she wanted to let her neighbours know she was in danger, but a hand covered her mouth before she could do so

“ah, mikyung-ah.. if only you knew the consequences, hm? if i can’t have you, nobody can.” and with that, the same boy from the school, the same boy who stopped her on her way back home, plunged the knife into her back with no hesitation

he let his hand uncover her mouth to hear the cry she let out as she fell to the floor, blood oozing out of the open wound in her back

the boy chuckled to himself, removing the knife from her back to increase blood loss, but he didn’t stop there

he continued to stab her, creating another wound in her back and one in her stomach

he left her there to suffer, exiting through the glass doors in the kitchen and carefully walking down the steps that led to the street outside the apartment complex

the gloves he was wearing to mask any fingerprints from being discovered were taken off and thrown in a trash bin, along with the knife he used to kill mikyung with

the focus of the camera however was no longer turned to him, but was back in the now quiet kitchen of mikyung’s home

her body was still on the floor, a pool of blood now visible from underneath her

it was seconds later that her eyes closed and her breathing stopped, her face going emotionless

park mikyung was dead

all the members had frowns on their faces, not being able to see her in such pain even though it was all fake

a sniffle was then heard from the back row of the members, the boys in front all turning to look behind them

“johnny, are you crying?!” taeil shreeked

“you’re NOT crying?!” he wiped his eyes and sniffled again

“oppa! don’t cry!” lian shouted at him from behind the camera

he shook his head in retaliation, “this is so sad! what a cruel world we live in.”

the members all laughed at that, somewhat understanding where he was coming from

“i’m going to be traumitized for life after this.” doyoung said

off camera, johnny received a tissue from a staff member, allowing everyone to continue the viewing of the trailer

jungwoo hushed the little side conversations, telling them they still had two minutes left of the video

everyone settled down and stood still in their respective seats, full attention back on the laptop sitting at the front

sirens were going off like crazy, mikyung’s lifeless body still laying there in a pool of blood

by the time paramedics arrived along with a swarming line of police cars, as well as minji herself, there was no saving mikyung

the cries of minji could be heard even though the camera wasn’t focused on her

it was devastating to watch

montages of other clips then played out, a scene of an incredibly sad, middle-aged woman was shown sobbing in front of mikyung’s picture at her funeral

dressed in a black hanbok, she bowed down to her daughter’s picture that was surrounded in white flowers and banners that wished her peace and happiness in the afterlife, crying for her to come back

“i’m about to cry too-” taeyong said, feeling bad for the woman

the scene was soon over, a new and happier one playing instead

it finally showed the second main character, son eunsang, quietly walking down the hall and looking for a water fountain

mikyung was walking on the other side of him and looked over to see what he was doing

she got a little closer, thinking nothing of it because, well, she was a ghost

but she stopped in her tracks when she caught eunsang looking back at her

she waved a little to see what his response would be, and to her surprise, he bowed

“can you see me?” she questioned, and she gasped when he nodded his head

that was the end of the clip, but another one followed in its tracks

“yah, don’t walk through me!” mikyung yelled, eunsang walked right through her body in order to get away from the conversation that they had (which wasn’t included into the trailer)

a couple of the members laughed at that, but the rest remained invested in the video

more tiny little scenes went on to play after that, light-hearted moments between the two main characters left the members smiling fondly

but it was one scene in particular that had them all clapping for eunsang and cheering him on

a group of boys, seemingly popular, had been teasing eunsang for only god knows what, but they had also mentioned mikyung

they were saying things like, “you look rather upset after mikyung died. did you like her? eunsang, did you like a dead girl?”

different angles of the shot had shown mikyung standing beside him, some didn’t. but after she had seemed to have enough of the stupid conversation topic, she brought out her hand and slapped one of the boys’ books onto the ground

her being a ghost, nobody knew how the books had fallen and his sidekicks took a step back

they started to think eunsang was some sort of wizard

eunsang smiled down at her and followed in her footsteps, throwing a punch at the same guy who had just stood back up after picking up the fallen textbooks from the floor

jaehyun finally spoke up after that, “wAH! hwang inyeop is so cool!”

the rest of the members agreed with him and all started clapping, “THAT’S RIGHT EUNSANG. PROTECT OUR LIANNA” they cheered

after that, there weren’t too many other clips that were worth pausing for. just cute moments, and a few angsty ones to get viewers excited for the series

the trailer ended with a loud bang, a big logo of the title displayed out on the screen with the release date right below it

the voices of lian (mikyung) and inyeop (eunsang) had both read out the title in sync

and with that, he trailer was over

the members all did one final synchronized clap, applauding the amazing acting skills they were able to see

“that was so good! any final thoughts?” taeyong took the lead

hendery raised his hand, “i’m so excited for this. when it comes out, i’ll be waiting for it to finish so that i’m able to binge watch it :D”

a couple of the other members nodded their heads, agreeing and saying that it’d be better to wait so they’re not left on a cliffhanger

more sweet commentary continued for a couple more minutes before the filming process began to get too long, so they had to finish it off quickly

“wait! lian, come say something!”

lian, who was behind the camera, looked from her phone and went over to the group of boys

she took a seat on jungwoo’s lap and began speaking

“hii~ i’d just like to say that i hope you guys are looking forward to “visions of you” !! inyeop-oppa and i worked really hard, and we wish for you all to enjoy watching it~ please give it support when it comes out, and have fun watching the trailer if you haven’t already! bye bye~”

after she said goodbye to the camera, the boys all did as well and the video came to a close

#lian: nct #nct #nct 127 #nct dream #wayv #nct addition #nct female member #kim chungha #lianna bae #nct 127 added member #nct 127 female member #nct dream female member #nct dream added member #nct 22nd member #nct 24th member #hwang inyeop #nct 2020 #nct 2021

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