Anonymouskiwi - Anonymouskiwi

i wish i had met you earlier (eddie munson x reader)

cw: depressing pillow talk and comfort idk, reader was sad and lonely an: a nod to the only boy ive ever loved who coincidentally became the only man ive ever loved. we grew up together and i still wish i had met him earlier. wc: 1k

“I wish I had met you earlier,” you whisper.

“Earlier?” he smiles, nose scrunching at the silliness, not knowing the depth of your sentiment. 

“Yeah,” you smile back. It’s hard not to do— to smile, when his eyes are so soft, and his lips are that plump, just kissed colour, and your body still hums from the evening behind you. His lashes flutter the slightest bit, blinking away your flattery with a bashful roll of his eyes. 

“You’d be sick of me already if we met earlier,” he lightly huffs, cheek squishing further into the softness of your shared pillow, crooking his smile. 

If the lights were on, you’re sure you’d see a flush suffuse across his face. It would highlight the curvature of his cheeks that accompany his boyish simper, and it would emphasize the winsome rounded tip of his nose. When he blushes like that, your heart always adds an extra beat into its rhythm, one that lives for him. You can picture it so clearly, your heart flutters all the same— that’s not the point of this though. 

“I wouldn't be sick of you,” you promise.

“No?”

“I'll never get sick of you.” 

Tactile as always, he draws his affection over your features, trusting his touch to communicate what he feels. His fingertips dance over your cheek bone, daring to grace close enough to your eye to feel the very tips of each silken lash, flittering with every reflexive blink. He feels the fan, every feathery gust of air, and it affects him in magnitudinous ways— feeling any part of you is like that, a full-hearted reminder that you are here. You are here and you are his. 

His palm settles to your cheek, fingers curving just below your ear, cradling the edge of your face. His own version of a promise, he shares his warmth and oath-taken heart through his touch.

“When would you have wanted to meet?” he asks curiously, blinking his own thick lashes at you as his gaze meets yours. 

“Just before high school.”

He smiles widely, “you answered that quickly,” he says, thumb tracing once over the hill of your cheek and back down.

“I’ve thought about it a lot,” you smile back. You lean into his touch and he draws his thumb across again. You close your eyes for a moment and he does it another time. 

“Why?” 

The softness inside you hardens momentarily at the question. Swallowing thickly, you also know the answer, but it doesn’t come out as quickly. It gets stuck to the roof of your mouth, stuck to the tip of your tongue. His eyes encourage your honesty, and on the sole notion of knowing him and knowing his heart, you trust him with this part of you.

“Maybe if I met you then, I wouldn’t have been so lonely.”

His thumb glides across your cheek and you watch as his eyes give way to his realization that it wasn’t a light hearted question for you. It wasn’t just pillow talk like it was supposed to be.

“Maybe if I met you then, I wouldn’t have been so sad,” you continue, trying to smile.

“You were sad?” His brows turn up, worry lines settling in. It’s a sorrowful look he gives you, not pity, but a softness, a grief, a regret. 

For a split moment, you think that maybe you should lie— make it all go away. Maybe you should lie, but you couldn’t, not with him. Not when his hand is so graciously connected to you, and the warmth of his bare chest radiates into yours, and your shared pillow smells like your shared shampoo, and the sheets smell like the laundry soap you picked out together, with hints of your lotion and his body wash scattered throughout like every kiss you’ve ever shared here. Maybe you should lie, but you couldn’t— especially not when you love him and he loves you. 

“I was so sad, Eddie.” 

You muster a smile, but it betrays you, trembling just under your lower lip. The corners of your mouth remain pointed high, but it’s not a smile, not with the way your lips purse tightly, holding back what your eyes cannot. Your lash line fills, but less than a few side fallen tears survive the heavy blinks that draw them back inwards.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, thumb tracing under your eye this time. He pulls you forward with the lightest touch, a gentle encouragement, and a purposeful reminder that he’s here. He's here and he’s yours. 

One day you’d like to explain it all, but it’s a hard feeling to understand. You’re not sure if it’s wholly a feeling to begin with— it’s more like a ghost. A haunting of all the feelings that used to exist. It washes over you in fast moving gray clouds, settling into your chest like heavy smoke in your lungs, lingering only long enough to remind you of how it was. Just enough to make you sputter, but not enough to hold the bleak weight of it all once again.

Breath coming out heaving and choked, Eddie’s palm glides to the back of your neck. His thumb presses soothingly into the tensed and taut muscles, and as soft as air he breathes a whispered apology against your lips— a simple ‘sorry,’ but it translates to so much more when he holds you like he does. 

Sorry for bringing it up. 

Sorry for the ghosts in your lungs. 

Sorry for the years of you that died all alone with nobody to mourn them. 

Sorry that no matter how many flowers you bring to their grave, they still come back, just like this, to haunt you.

Sorry— breathed against your lips and into your lungs, filling you with the gift of a life with him in it. 

“It’s not your fault,” you answer.

“I know,” he replies.

“I’m still glad I met you when I did,” you say. 

He looks into your eyes, steady gaze sincere with a tender adornment. Entirely loving, but his usually gladness is hindered by the gravity of the moment. He moves in closer to you again, lips just barely brushing yours as he speaks. 

“I wish I had met you earlier,” he whispers.

———

ty! <3

A little New Year's Eddie imagine

You're trying your best to stay up for New Year's, but come 11:30 you are fast asleep on the couch, your head on Eddie's shoulder.

He smiles down at you, shaking his head in amusement, "Well, you tried."

He gently moves so he can lay down on the couch and pulls you down with him to lay on his chest and continues to watch the movie you had picked for the night.

Around 2am, you wake up snuggled up in Eddie's arms, "What time is it?"

Eddie turns the TV off, "A little after 2."

You immediately sit up, "No!" you whined, "I missed it!"

"It's alright, Sweetheart. There's always next year."

You look at him with a slight pout, "But I didn't get to give you a New Year's kiss."

An idea comes to Eddie and he jumps up from the couch and runs into his room. You hear him looking for something, tossing things about and mumbling, "Where the hell did I put it?" until he yells, "Ah ha!" and returns to the small living area of the trailer.

He holds out his alarm clock, "Ta da!"

"What's that for?"

"It's a magic trick, watch," he turns the dial on the back of the clock to move the hands back, "I turned back time, it's 11:59 now."

You feel your heart begin to melt, "Eddie, this the sweetest, and slightly weirdest thing anyone has ever done for me."

Eddie shrugs, "You're worth altering the space-time continuum for."

You walk over to him and hug him, "I love you."

"I love you too." he smiles and starts moving the hands of the clock again, "are you ready?"

"Yes!"

He starts to countdown from ten, and you join him, watching the hands of his alarm clock move towards the twelve at the top.

"five, four, three, two, one, Happy New Year!" You both shout.

You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him, which he returns eagerly.

"Happy New Year, Eddie."

"Happy New Year, Sweetheart."

Eternally yours

Summary: Eddie grapples with the realization that he exists solely in your imagination, while you cling to the fleeting moments you have.

Warning: I found this fic in my drafts from the end of last year. I completely forgot about it and reading it today made me incredibly sad. Why do I write things that hurt? Read at your own risk.

Word count: 744

Eddie stares at your hand resting beside his on the dock. He wonders how his hand can feel so real when it looks and moves just like yours. He can feel the wood beneath his fingertips. He can hear the water brush against the dock. He can see the moon casting a light on your face. It’s all so real, but he’s not. Suddenly, he is acutely aware of his body and the self-awareness causes him to feel uneasy.

Breaking free from his thoughts, you ask Eddie what he does when you’re not around. His voice trails off as he searches for an answer, realizing that his memories revolve solely around you. He musters the words, “I don't know…maybe I only exist when you’re around.”

The weight of your gaze intensifies the ache in his chest, as he grapples with the paradox of your presence while feeling his own absence. You exist and he doesn’t. How can he make sense of that when you're staring right at him, making him feel so alive?

“Do you think of me when we're not together?” He asks softly, feeling cracked open by his vulnerability. If he were to ask you what his lungs looked like, he'd swear you could simply peer down and tell him.

“All the time.”

That eases the ache and he smiles. The cool night breeze envelops both of you as Eddie tentatively lifts his hand, feeling the air flow through his fingers. However, a tremor runs through him, and you reach out to steady his hand with a gentle touch.

“Don’t get lost in it. Just stay with me.” You say.

Eddie tightens his grip on your hand, but his chest rises and falls quickly. He does not meet your eyes, because he is getting lost in it. The panic starts to set in. But then he feels your thumb brush gently over his hand. He hears his name on your lips, and it's as if you pulled him out of the hole he was falling into.

With his brown doe eyes fixed on yours, Eddie’s hand rises to touch your cheek. His fingers trace your face delicately, committing every curve and line to memory. He hesitates before asking, “Is this okay?”

You affirm with a single word, “Yes.”

Noticing a change in your expression and your attempt to control your breathing, Eddie’s thumb caresses your cheek as he asks, “What’s wrong?”

A small smile appears on your face before you admit, “I think about this all the time. You have no idea.”

Curious, Eddie asks, “Think about what?”

“You. And how your touch would feel…” Your voice trails off, cheeks flushing.

Eddie gently tilts your chin up. “How does it feel?”

Your eyes meet and he waits for your response, captivated by each of your breaths. But then, a tear falls from your eyes.

“Better than I could imagine, which is silly because this is all in my imagination,” you confess, your voice breaking as you look away.

Eddie wipes away your tears, his face filled with sorrow. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs.

Suddenly, you envelop Eddie in a tight hug, surprising him but easing his tension. He reciprocates, pulling you closer. Holding you tight.

“I miss you,” You whisper.

The words fall from your lips. Eddie is filled with confusion because he doesn’t know the pain you’ve endured because of his story. He doesn’t know how his fate ended, because this version of him lives on only within your mind—suspended in time. You met him in the middle, where his story was still happy and he was filled with promise of it being his year.

He lets his unanswered question dissolve, softly assuring you, “I’m right here.”

And he is, yet he isn’t. Time has passed, and the world has moved on from him, unbeknownst to Eddie. So, you securely hold him in your heart and mind, ensuring his existence continues.

“You know,” he starts, stroking your hair, “If I exist only because of you, then that’s a life worth living.”

The lake stills, the wind ceases, and just before Eddie can comprehend you're gone, he smiles. The world darkens, freezing him in an eternal moment.

Eddie Munson ceases to exist, residing only in the mind of a shifter, between the pages of the writer, the pen strokes of an artist and through the words of those who read him back to life in every possible scenario.

For every moment you experience in reality, he waits—until you meet again.

Masterlist

Forgetful wifey

Sukuna was growing more and more irritated by the second. For two whole days, you had been without your wedding ring, and it seemed like you hadn’t even noticed. Two days. He had been watching, waiting for that moment of realization, but it never came. Instead, you carried on with your life as if nothing was amiss, smiling, laughing, and going about your usual routine.

It drove him mad.

As if the world wasn’t already full of pests trying to hit on you even when you had the ring on, now it was like you’d put out an open invitation. Every man in sight seemed emboldened by your bare hand, and Sukuna had to physically restrain himself from going on a rampage.

At first, he figured you might have just misplaced it. You always took it off while showering, careful not to lose it, and maybe it had slipped your mind. He tried looking in all the usual spots—the bathroom counter, the kitchen sink, even your makeup desk. Nothing.

“Where the hell did she put it?” he grumbled, slamming one of the drawers shut a little too hard.

By the end of the second day, his patience was razor-thin. You were sitting on the couch, scrolling on your phone, completely oblivious to his brewing frustration. Sukuna stood in the doorway, arms crossed, staring at you like you’d committed some kind of heinous crime.

“You’ve got some nerve, you know that?” he finally snapped.

You glanced up, raising an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”

“Your ring. Where is it?” His tone was sharp, almost accusatory.

“Oh,” you said nonchalantly, setting your phone down. “I took it off when I was showering the other day and forgot to put it back on. Why?”

“Why?” he repeated, incredulous. “You’ve been walking around for two damn days without it, and you’re asking me why?”

You tilted your head at him, confused by the intensity of his reaction. “It’s not a big deal, Sukuna. I’ll just go grab it and put it back on.”

“Not a big deal?” he growled, stepping closer to you. “Do you have any idea how many bastards have been looking at you like you’re single? Like they even stand a chance?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, which only made him more irritated. “Sukuna, no one is going to think I’m single just because I forgot my ring for a couple of days.”

“Oh, they’re thinking it, alright,” he muttered darkly. “And they’re damn wrong. You’re mine.”

Shaking your head, you stood up and wrapped your arms around him, trying to soothe the temperamental man. “I’m always yours, ring or no ring,” you said softly, resting your head against his chest. “I’ll go put it on right now, okay?”

He let out a low growl, still clearly annoyed, but his arms came around you instinctively. “Damn right you’re mine,” he muttered. “And don’t take it off again, or I’ll tattoo my name on your hand if I have to.”

---

That’s what gave you the idea. You had always been a bit forgetful—so forgetful that you once forgot your own name during an introduction. Sukuna loved to tease you about it, but you knew it frustrated him sometimes. Especially when it came to something as important as your wedding ring.

You decided to put his mind at ease once and for all. Heading to the tattoo shop, you smiled as you explained your plan to the artist.

“A tattoo on your ring finger, huh?” the artist asked, giving you a knowing grin. “Man, your husband must really love you to get under your skin like that.”

“Oh, he loves me, all right,” you replied with a laugh. “But he’s also ridiculously possessive, and I’m just trying to save us both some stress.”

The process was quick but meaningful. On your ring finger, the artist inked Sukuna’s name in elegant script, followed by your wedding date in small, delicate numbers. It was simple but perfect—a lasting symbol of your bond that couldn’t be misplaced or forgotten.

When you got home, Sukuna was pacing in the living room, his arms crossed and his expression brooding. He immediately turned toward you when you entered, his crimson eyes narrowing.

“Where the hell were you?” he demanded. “Don’t tell me you were out there without your ring again.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Relax, Suku. I was doing something for you.”

“For me?” His suspicion deepened, but he stayed where he was, watching as you walked over and held up your left hand.

“Ta-da!” you announced, wiggling your fingers. “Problem solved.”

It took him a second to process what he was seeing. His name and your wedding date were permanently inked on your finger, right where your ring should be. His eyebrows shot up, and his jaw clenched in surprise.

“You… got a tattoo?” he asked, his voice low but intrigued.

“Yup,” you said, grinning. “Now you don’t have to worry about me losing my ring or forgetting to wear it. You’re literally on me forever.”

For a moment, he just stared at your hand, his expression unreadable. Then, a slow, smug grin spread across his face. He grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand closer to examine the tattoo.

“Well, damn,” he muttered, his thumb brushing over the ink. “You actually did it.”

“Of course I did,” you said. “I’m nothing if not practical.”

He let out a short laugh, the pride in his voice unmistakable. “Practical, huh? Nah, this is you admitting that you’re mine forever.”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile didn’t fade. He tugged you closer, wrapping an arm around your waist as he leaned down to kiss you, his lips curling into a smirk against yours. “Like I’d ever forget. But good luck getting rid of me now, princess. You’re stuck with me.”

Jason takes care of you after getting your wisdom teeth out

A/n: by the time this is out my wisdom teeth will be gone but I heard it’s okay because they don’t actually hold wisdom :(

Warnings: short, minor injury? Sedation mention and it’s after affects, not proof read, rushed

Your body shakes as they turn on the IV drip. Your eyes search his for reassurance.

“I’m right here sweetheart.” His hand is big, and steady as it holds yours.

“Jay I’m in love with you so much.” You weep softly, words muffled by the gauze.

“Oh I know sweetheart.” His strong hands look so good working the wheel, driving you both home.

“Did you know you’re so beautiful?” Your voice quivers.

“Mhm. You’re beautiful too.” His voice is gruff, and soothing.

You gasp all too dramatically, “I am beautiful?”

“Mhm.”

“Oh wowwww…”

By the time you get home you’re half asleep. His big arms scoop you up with ease, you feel like you’re floating.

The massive bed cradles you. Jason makes sure your head stays elevated on the mountain of fluffy pillows.

You’re technically asleep but you feel him leave, and you’re weeping again.

Can’t control the waterworks.

“Oh…oh sweetness you okay? What happened?” He carefully thumbs the tears beneath your eyes away.

“W-where did you go?” Your voice feels as broken as it sounds.

“Just went to get you some things baby.” He holds up the special ice pack he bought you, gentle hands wrapping it in place around your swollen cheeks.

“S’the pink one? I love pink.”

“Yes I know.” He coos.

“I don’t deserve you.” You sob.

He rubs a hand on the back of your neck, “Oh yes you do,” he leans down to catch your gaze, “Sweetheart would you mind doing me a favor?”

You wouldn’t mind doing him all the favors, “Hm?”

“Let’s take a breath, get those waterworks to stop yeah? Being dehydrated doesn’t feel good.”

He’s right, it doesn’t. That doesn’t stop you though.

“Hey…sugar look at me please.” The anesthesia doesn’t change how willing you are to follow his gentle instructions. “There’s my sweet thing. No more tears okay? No more tears.” He whispers against your temple.

“If I can’t have tears what can I have?” You sniff.

“You can have some mashed potatoes yeah?” He seems to grab a steaming bowl of it out of nowhere.

“Oh…yeah that’s good.”

He chuckles. “I mixed ‘em with some broth.” He holds up the spoon to your lips, “Good?”

You carefully swallow. “Mhm…Jason my teeth feel big.”

“Yeah…” he’s careful not to comment on how swollen your cheeks look from the surgery.

“And they feel badly.”

“I know baby…I know. You were so brave today.” He runs his fingertips over your brow, keeping the urge to cup your cheeks at bay.

“It hurts…”

He nods thoughtfully, immediately pulled into action finding your aftercare instructions. He opens a couple pill bottles, offering each pill to your mouth in turn.

“Swallow f’me.”

And you do. And then you giggle.

“Oh I’d swallow for you alright.”

But he doesn’t laugh? He just…looks at you.

His green eyes hold the golden rays peaking through a heavy forest; his love is the first breeze of spring, and the last chill of winter.

“Your eyes are the green sunlight, and you’re fresh.” Gosh aren’t you a romantic. Some words might be missing there though.

He smiles. “You, my sweet love, are the bed that makes a home. Now hush…don’t want you hurting that pretty mouth.” He kisses your forehead.

But he wanted to say more than that. You are my reprieve.

He stays with you until you fall asleep.

early relationship with out of this world gorgeous man suguru and you're still stuttering when he stares at you longer than three seconds, yes you counted.

you still have no idea how you managed to garner his interest. him going from a small tiny crush to being your boyfriend? you had to pat yourself on the back.

so that's why you're extremely nervous and rambling about some lines in the movie you're currently watching with him, bodies tangled together. your hands are a little shaky, and maybe a little sweaty, from holding his and your heart is beating so loudly you pray he doesn't hear it.

as for suguru? he just stares at you no— admires you with a lazy grin. it's clear how nervous he makes you feel and he thinks it's endearing.

and as much as he's fond of listening to you rant about something completely irrelevant, he just couldn't help but steal a few glances at your lips. he knows you noticed too because your babbles were now a frenzy of stutters and the faint pink on your cheeks turn red, spreading through your face and all the way to your ears.

"so what happens after that was-" your words halt as you gulp and blink furiously, looking at anywhere but his face.

suguru only chuckles and shifts his body closer towards you "yeah? what happens after that?" he leans in teasingly.

"actually... i don't know" you smile to yourself, finding humour with it all and you turn, bravely too.

taking his chance, suguru closes the small distance separating you both and lands his lips onto your own. at first you freeze but then he feels you relax and melt into the kiss.

he slowly brings his hands to cup your cheeks, slowly caressing it as he gently tugs your lower lip with his teeth upon pulling away.

your forehead connects and suguru smiles fondly "you have no idea how long i waited for this" he practically purrs and your heart, for the hundredth time today, threatens to burst.

"me too" was all you could mutter out meekly.

suguru lets out a faint laugh "yeah?"

"yeah"

that was all the confirmation he needed when he leaned in to kiss you again, so much more passionate this time.

ugh i need to drink with post-graduate suga i just know it would fix me >_>

thinking about your older bf!simon that cannot cope with being far from you.

when you’re in the shower, he’s sat on the lid of the toilet on his phone (watching those rug cleaning videos) enjoying your faint singing under the stream of water, the smell of your body wash on the cloud of steam- ready to pass you a towel or get your back.

when you’re at your desk, working from home or studying, he’s just on the other side of it reading the paper with one outstretched leg tangled with both of yours. he’s dead quiet when you’re on a call, just happy to be around.

when you’re doing laundry, collecting the clothes in the hamper and crouching to stuff them into the washer- turning around and accidentally colliding with a thick wall of muscle.

“sorry, love”

he steps aside but you can hear his soft footfalls as he continues to follow you throughout your home.

when you’re both watching something on the couch, what starts as his pinky locked with yours turns into his arm around your waist. that turns into your head on his chest, which culminates with you falling asleep in his lap with his cheek on your head and soft snores emanating from his lips.

when you grocery shop, you push the trolley but his chest is to your back, arms either side of you and hands clasped over yours on the handle. you can thank his military training for his uncanny ability to tell exactly when you’ll stop walking.

when he wakes up in the middle of the night, on a rare occasion when you’ve managed to slip out of bed without him realising, he’s immediately in a panic calling your name.

“in here, my love”

as soon as his heart settles, he realises the bathroom light was probably a dead giveaway. you’re taking a wee, you’ll be back in a minute.

that doesn’t stop a sleepy simon from leaning in the doorframe, shielding his eyes from the big light as he waits for you to finish up.

even on the short walk back to bed, you can feel fingers twisted in the back of your shirt- almost like you’re leading the way.

minute you’re both on the mattress, you’re being wrapped up in his arms, slotting you perfectly into the curve of his front- almost like you’re made for him.

(and you are)

thinking about arguing with husband!gojo. it’s funny because he’s the strongest sorcerer alive with several other, more wicked enemies harboring one sided hate for him, yet he’s anxiously glancing at you every now and then as you hiss at him. you’re the only one who can make him doubt his strength.

he usually finds you cute when you’re mad, but right now he doesn’t really appreciate the way your face is scrunched up and how you’re yelling at him.

it’s not his fault. he thinks you’re being so dramatic.

“you’re laughing at me,” you deadpan. “why do you never take things i say seriously?”

“because i honestly don’t think it’s that serious,” he fires back, and your eyes narrow. oh, fuck.

arguing with your husband is never fun. it’s probably because the both of you are stubborn; you’re stubborn because you’re simply right all the time, and satoru’s stubborn because if you’re not right, then he is.

you pause for just a second, but it’s enough to sprout a moment of extreme tension between you and your husband.

“right,” you scoff after you inhale sharply. “you just don’t care, do you?”

“don’t fucking say that,” satoru snaps. “i do care. that’s why i’m here.”

it takes everything in you to not shoot him another death glare. “so i should be thankful for the bare minimum?”

satoru blinks. he would’ve flinched, but he refuses to let you have that sort of power over him. “i’m not giving the bare minimum.”

“yes you are,” you argue back, voice straining as you swallow a lump of anger down the back of your throat.

the both of you are still. it feels like an eternity passes before the anger in you wanes. you’re exhausted and this fight with satoru is surely going to make the both of you upset enough to not talk for the rest of the night.

“i’m sorry that i’m not good enough,” satoru says, breaking the silence. you’ve never heard his voice so small, so pathetic—he’s never, ever shown you this side of him, and you’re starting to feel that dreading pit of guilt tug at your gut.

“that’s not what i meant,” you force yourself to say, sighing.

“but that’s what you’re thinking,” satoru mumbles. he avoids looking at your face.

“no it’s not,” you deny. “it’s never been about that.”

satoru gives you a wary look. “then what is it about? because i’ve done everything i can.”

“everything? really?” you sneer. “do you even love me anymore?”

silence. satoru swears he can hear your heart break.

“baby, don’t say that,” he groans, “c’mon, we were ten points away from three stars. that’s a single plate—one you didn’t turn in because you somehow forgot how to dash!”

you whip around to glower at satoru, your face twisting into an offended expression. “you set the kitchen on fire! how could i do something like serving a dish if the kitchen is on fire?!”

“baby, it’s the same button that it always has been this entire game!” he whines. “and you set the kitchen on fire! you keep forgetting to take the rice off the stove!”

you sigh exasperatedly, crossing your arms to act like some sort of shield between you and satoru’s (truthful) words.

“but you don’t chop up your stupid fish!” you protest. “so i end up doing five things at once!”

satoru opens his mouth to speak, but he knows you’re in the right. he opts to click his tongue instead.

“and every time i asked for help,” you add, frowning, “you just kept bringing out more of the dumbass cucumbers! we don’t have counter space for that!!!”

“that’s for prep to maximize our sushi making! throw it on the floor!”

“are you kidding me? that’s so unsanitary!”

“it’s a game!”

you’re both panting by the end of the fight. you’re biting down on your inner cheek and satoru is scratching the nape of his neck awkwardly.

“… sorry,” he mumbles. “i won’t bring out cucumbers anymore. and i’m also sorry for being mean about you not knowing how to dash.”

“good,” you huff. “‘cause i was seriously not gonna play anymore.”

“and…?” he prods, nudging you in your ribs. you can tell what he wants just by the sound of his voice.

“and i’m sorry for getting mad at you even though you’re doing you’re best at carrying me in this game…” you murmur, rolling your eyes.

satoru’s face brightens and he places a wet kiss on your cheek. “you’re forgiven.”

“love you, dummy.”

“love you too, baby.”

“no more cucumbers unless the ticket calls for them,” you remind him pointedly.

“yes, chef!”

Candygram

Summary: It's Valentine's day and you shoot your shot with Eddie by sending him a Candygram.

Tags: Eddie Munson x Reader, fluff, sfw

4.8k Words Master List

“Just do it.”  Robin said, following your line of sight to the booth in the corner of the Hawkins cafeteria. It was a simple table with a red cloth thrown over it and a handmade banner that read ‘CANDYGRAMS $1’ and was decorated with tacky hearts. 

Every time you glanced over at the booth, your heart would start pounding and your stomach would twist in knots. You had never considered yourself to be shy before, when you first moved to Hawkins a few years ago, Robin had joked that you didn’t need a welcome wagon because you had thrown yourself into band and had introduced yourself to everyone with ease. 

You had masked your anxiety over being the new kid with an overinflated sense of confidence and it had worked out really well for you until you caught feelings for the freak who sat next to you in remedial science. 

“I think... I would rather chug formaldehyde.” you said slowly, staring so hard at the offensively pink and red booth that Robin was sure it was going to catch flames. 

“Either go up there and buy a candygram or I’m going to do it for you.” Robin said. “If I have to hear you waffle about this for one more day I’m gonna rip my hair out.” 

“But if I send him one, then he might actually acknowledge me and realize I might have something resembling a feeling for him, and that’s just not really cool, you know? Goes against my chill and mysterious personality.” you said, leaning back on your chair with a cocky grin. 

“Last night I saw you and Steve cry over Bambi.” Robin deadpans. 

“Okay, so we were drunk and also shut up.” you snorted, rubbing your face. 

“How are you going to know if there’s anything there if you don’t even take the chance?” Robin scolds. “Come one, I’ve seen the way you look at him. I’m surprised the whole school doesn’t know-”

“Again, cool and mysterious personality.” you tried again. 

“Plus I know he’s just as weird as you.” Robin continued, ignoring you. “I mean, last week I saw him get Jason Carver to back off one of the freshmen by pretending to exercise a demon out of him!”

You stared at Robin for a beat before thunking your head on the lunch table. “I’m going to marry him. Holy shit, he actually tried to expel the demon lurking in Carver?” You were laughing at the thought. 

During your first senior year and his second, Eddie Munson had caught your eye when you had the same lunch period. He was loud and energetic and so fucking weird you couldn’t help but to be drawn to him. Had your parents not forced you to stick with band, you would have considered joining Hellfire. Unfortunately even with this last go-round as a super senior, they still made you stick with it despite your senioritis reaching terminal levels.

You never had a good opportunity to talk to him, and the more time passed the harder it became to justify just randomly approaching him. This semester you finally had your opportunity when you’d been put in the same class and sitting next to each other no less. Still, the most you’d been able to say was “yeah, sure” when he’d asked you for a pencil once. 

Four weeks sitting next to Eddie, and you had barely spoken to him while noticing every little thing about him. He read a lot in class when he could get away with it, and doodled in his notebooks constantly, especially dice and dragons seemed to be the biggest theme. His school notebook wasn’t nearly as filled in as his Hellfire notebook, and he was always fidgeting in class. He also didn’t talk much, and at least once a week he’d end up falling asleep in class with his head in his hand. 

“There’s not gonna be a wedding if you can’t even talk to the guy.” Robin said. “He’s not even scary! Dustin comes in to talk to Steve all the time about Hellfire. He’s just a dork.”

“I know and that’s the problem.” your voice was a strangled laugh mixed with a groan. 

“You showed up the first day of band and introduced yourself to everyone, even if they weren’t in your section. What is the hold up with you talking to Eddie?” Robin pried. 

“Because back then, it didn’t matter.” You looked over at Robin, poking at your mystery meat. “When I first got here it didn’t matter if anyone liked me or not. I was only supposed to be in this school for a few months and then graduate. Then I didn’t. I could handle it if someone didn’t like me. None of you were really supposed to matter to me. No offense.”

Thankfully, Robin didn’t seem offended. “You were just making nice with the inmates until parole.” she joked and you nodded. 

“Yup, and then when I realized that I was going to have to actually have a full other year of school, that meant that I was going to have to care if I was ever gonna graduate.” You continued. “Luckily you saw through all my bullshit bravado and started dragging me to movie nights with you and Steve.” 

“Yeah yeah, we love friendship. So what does any of this have to do with Eddie?” Robin said, not needing you to explain the backstory that she had been present for. 

“It means that with Mr. Munson, I unfortunately, care so fucking much what he thinks of me.” you relented. “He’s the biggest freak in school, and the dorkiest loser, and if I try and talk to him and he’s not interested in talking back I won’t be able to take it. Robin, I will simply lay down and be dead for the rest of my life.”

“That’s not how that works, you can’t be dead for the rest of your life.” She shook her head, her brows furrowed. “Because if you’re dead then... you’re not alive”

“Schrodinger's corpse then. Alive and dead at the same time.” 

“Look, just send him the stupid candygram. The worst he can do is say no.” She stood up from the table and grabbed your hand. “Let’s go.”

And that’s how you ended up at the booth, jotting down Eddie’s name on a piece of paper and shoving a few quarters in the till with Robin looking smug. “I doubt he’s ever gotten one anyway, if anything he should be thrilled that someone wanted to send him one.”

“If this kills me, Steve’s in charge of the music at my funeral.” you sighed. 

---

Candygrams were being handed out and delivered through the week. You weren’t paying attention to what period they were supposed to be handed out, and so when two students in obnoxious heart shirts and fake wings burst into your science class with Eddie right next to you, you were about ready to throw yourself out a window. 

No one was surprised when Janet and Charlie were tossed a few candygrams, but everyone’s head whipped around when the red heart shaped lollipop and card was set on Eddie Munson’s desk. Eddie himself seemed more surprised than anyone. 

He had the lollipop in his mouth before he even opened the note attached and you were seconds away from bolting out the door. With any luck, maybe he didn’t know your name even after weeks of sitting next to each other. 

“Who’s it from, freak?” asked Patrick, the basketball jock who sat a few rows ahead. That earned a few snickers from the class. 

“It’s from your mom.” Eddie said without missing a beat and taking out the lollipop. “Tell her I say thanks.”

More laughter from the class as Patrick stood up as if ready to fight, but the teacher quickly told him to sit down. 

Shit, this wasn’t supposed to happen. You felt a bit guilty that your candygram had kicked up a fuss, but at least Eddie didn’t out you as the person who sent it to him. In fact he wasn’t looking over at you at all. 

You watched him out of the corner of your eye as he flipped the card around, as if looking for something. All that was written was his name and “YOU’RE SWEET!” written in cheesy font and his name scribbled in your handwriting. 

And nothing else. 

You didn’t know if you should laugh or cry at your stupidity. You’d been so jumbled and nervous that you’d forgotten to sign the damn thing. Robin was gonna have a field day with this one. 

Eddie kept fidgeting with the card through the rest of class, twisting it and bending it until it was as crumpled and torn as your heart felt. He shoved it in his pocket and didn’t even glance at you as the bell rang and he stood up and tossed the eaten lollipop stick in the trash. 

It’s not personal. You told yourself. He has no idea who sent it to him.

That’s when you had a horrible idea, so stupid it might actually work. 

---

“Explain how this is going to work again?” Robin asked. “You’re going to keep sending him lollipops this week until he notices you?” 

“Sort of.” you said, buying another candygram. “I’ll just send him a few joke ones as a feeler and if he responds positively I’ll come clean. If not, I keep my dignity. It’s a win-win.”

“Since when do you care about your dignity?” Robin sorted. 

“Since I caught feelings for the least dignified guy in school, I guess.” You knew it was stupid, you knew it was ridiculous, but you already messed up once so you might as well lean into it. You scribbled his name down, this time signing it with a satisfied giggle. “This is so dumb.”

Oh, but it was so worth it. You had bought it before school started, guaranteeing that it’d be delivered the same day, handing over a crisp dollar to Nancy Wheeler who had volunteered for the booth. If Eddie had been surprised the first time, he looked almost shocked now.

Eddie, sorry I forgot to sign the first one! This card said, once again not giving away any sign of who it was actually from. You saw his eye sparkle in amusement as he ate his lollipop, and this time the card was read over a few times before being carefully tucked into his dungeon master notebook. 

By the third day, the novelty of Eddie Munson getting candygrams had worn off with the rest of your class, but Eddie’s grin only grew wider each time. 

“Anything for me, Cupid?” Eddie asked as the student council members walked back in to hand out more lollipops. 

He whooped as another one was dropped on his desk and he snatched up the card quickly and you had to cover your face and bite your lip to stop yourself from giggling at his excitement. 

Eddie, sorry I’m so bad at remembering to sign these things! I just get way too excited about sending them out that I lose focus. So anyway this card is actually from-

You had carefully spaced out your writing on the small rectangle of paper so that it left absolutely no room for you to sign your name. Eddie looked downright giddy as he read the note over and over. Seeing him so happy made your stomach burst into butterflies and even if he decided after this he wasn’t interested, this was enough. Knowing that he was smiling because of you was enough. 

Someone said your name and you looked up, surprised to see one of the student council members standing next to you and handing you a candygram. Your eyebrows shot up as you took it with a thanks and opened up the card. 

Who had sent one to you? You’d been so wrapped up in your little scheme you didn’t even consider that someone would try and send you one either. 

A smile tugged at your lips as you saw your name and a small drawing of what looked like an egg in a nest as the sender. Robin, of course. Probably making fun of you for sending candygrams to Eddie without signing either. 

You tucked the candygram in your own notebook safely and dared a glance over at Eddie again. You hadn’t expected for him to be looking back at you, and your heart jumped in your chest. He unwrapped his lollipop and lifted it slightly as if he was trying to toast. You held yours up as well to him, an off sense of camaraderie between two people who had their day temporarily disturbed for commercialized love. 

Thursday came around, Valentine's day proper, but they’d be doing one last day of candygrams on Friday as well. This was a fundraiser after all, and capitalism trumps any semblance of real sincerity. Well, you said that but that wasn’t exactly going to stop you from continuing your little plan. 

Today was the day you were going to pull out the big guns. You handed over a full $5 to have a carnation sent to Eddie, as well as a return to sender card to Robin for being a good friend. 

“Shouldn’t he be the one sending you a flower?” Nancy asked, handing you the card to write on. You wondered how Nancy had time for all of the extracurricular activities she had going on, working with the student council and the school newspaper. 

You just shrugged at the question, not realizing how wide you were smiling or how obviously warm your cheeks were. To anyone with two eyes, you were glowing and to anyone with one eye, you were phosphorescent. 

The disinterest that your classmates had from the last two rounds perked back up with a flower was delivered to Eddie that afternoon. 

“For little old me?” Eddie said, batting his eyelashes at the delivery boy as he took the carnation. You giggled to yourself as he opened the card again. 

Man, I’m bad at this aren’t I? Don’t worry, this time I’m writing very small so I have room to sign this card. Seeing you light up when these get delivered has made my whole week, and totally worth it. Anyway this is from- 

To be fair, you had actually signed your name this time. However this time you had made an attempt to erase it with one of those erasers. The horrible stiff ones that only made big smudges and made the mistake worse and nearly tore through the paper. You had carefully looked at your smudged signature for a long time before deciding it was illegible enough to send. 

Eddie faked a swoon in his seat, nearly toppling over onto the floor. “Come on!” he laughed, pushing himself back upright, smiling with his whole face. He looked over the note again, something clicking in his brain and you quickly looked down at the book you were currently pretending to read. 

“It’s someone in here.” you heard him mutter to himself and your heart started pounding in your chest. You focused on your breathing to try and stop yourself from giggling and giving yourself away. 

“Stop sending yourself stuff, Munson. It’s pathetic.” Patrick called out. 

“If you wanted me to be your Valentine, sweetheart, all you had to do was ask nicely.” Eddie said, but he sounded distracted as his eyes scanned the room for any hint of who this mysterious person is. “And next time, I’m more than happy with just the lollipop, it’s saving me on smokes.”

You didn’t even notice the lollipop on your desk until class had started back up. Unfolding the card you smiled to yourself, seeing that it was from Robin again. This time the egg in the nest had a crack in it and seemed to be hatching. You’d ask her about it later. 

Nothing said during the rest of class even registered with you, every word was in one ear and out the other. This had been a fun week sending Eddie all the lollipops and flowers but tomorrow was the last day to have something sent to him. 

Were you going to sign your name? That’s the million dollar question. You had told Robin that you would if Eddie seemed interested, and he had made it clear he was enjoying the attention. 

But would he still enjoy the attention if he learned it was from you? You two weren’t exactly friends, but not complete strangers either. He didn’t seem to dislike you, after all he’d raised a toast with you with your lollipops the other day. 

Well, if you were gonna put yourself out there, you were gonna do it on your own terms.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Robin said that Friday morning as you dropped a handful of ones on the table for one last hurrah. 

“Nope, I’ve committed.” you said, taking the small stack of cards and getting to work. 

“I’m going to have you committed.” Robin shook her head. “I mean, this is actually insane, you know that right? There’s no reason to go through all this trouble, when you could just talk to him.”

“Oh, but where’s the fun in that, Buckley?” you asked, as you added one letter of your name to each of the cards. “Gotta make him work for it.”

“So you’re gonna give him a Valentine's themed word jumble as your big sign off?” 

“Yup.” you confirmed, adding his name to each of the cards. He’d get them all in one go and then it’s up to him to unscramble your name and figure it out. 

After that... well, the ball is in his court. 

Besides, if he liked the lollipops enough that he’d reach for one instead of a cigarette then that’s good enough. 

“You’re such a weirdo. You deserve each other.” Robin went on. “The Weirdo and the Freak. It’s like Beauty and the Beast except.. Not.”

“Robin, don’t you know three languages?” you snorted finishing up your stack and handing them over to be sent. “You are so much smarter than me, but this is where you lose words?”

“It’s Friday and I haven’t had coffee.” she pointed out. “Oh, thanks for sending me one by the way.”

“Yeah, of course. I mean you sent me one so I wasn’t gonna leave you hanging.” you nudged her playfully. 

“I didn’t send you one.” Robin looked at you, confused. 

“What?” You reached into your backpack and pulled out the notebook where you had placed the card and handed it to her. “But that’s a robin’s egg...?”

“It’s an egg, probably.” Robin agreed. “But I’m broke. I didn’t send any out.” 

You stared at the card with new eyes. If she didn’t send it, then who did?

---

“Holy shit.” Eddie muttered as a bag of lollipops was dumped on his desk with no rhyme or reason, earning a round of laughter and snickers from the class. The teacher had long since given up on trying to keep the class’s attention when the Cupid’s showed up. 

He sorted through the cards, a puzzled expression on his face as he looked at the different letters on the cards until he found one that had real words on it. 

Figure it out, Sucker <3 Eddie’s face was a wonderful mixture of amusement, bewilderment, and mild offense. 

One of the Cupid’s handed you another two lollipops as well. One was actually signed by one of your friends in band, and the other had another doodle of an egg. This time the egg was completely hatched and there was some sort of weird bird flying off. 

Not a robin. You decided, trying to figure out what it was supposed to be. 

You barely paid attention in class for the rest of the hour, your attention split between the three egg Valentines you received and the man next to you. Eddie had pulled out his Dungeon Master notebook to try and decode your message. You felt flattered that he was using his favored notebook to try and figure out your puzzle. 

Eddie was sucking on one of the lollipops diligently as he scribbled down random letters. Now that you thought about it, you’d never seen him look so studious in class before. You wondered if this is what he looked like when he was working on his campaigns and your brain decided to give you a treat of a daydream where the two of you were sitting around in your room while he explained his campaign and how he’d love to have someone like you join Hellfire-

It was three minutes before the bell, and that meant just a few minutes until your last period and the weekend. With Valentine’s day falling in the middle of the week, most of your friends were going to be off doing things with their partners. Maybe you, Robin, and Steve- no wait, Steve actually got dates. Robin worked on the weekend. 

Maybe Eddie- NOPE. Not going there, you were not about to get your hopes up for this. 

You glanced over at him again, looking at his notebook to see if he was anywhere close to decoding your name. Eddie had the worst handwriting you’d ever seen and so you would be surprised if he could even figure out his own notes. Between unjumbling your letters, he had started doodling in the margins. You assumed that they were D&D monsters from the look of it, since none of them looked like actual animals except for the bats in the corner. 

The only other thing you recognized was a dragon, drawn in a larger scale on the side of the page. It’s wings were expanded and it was flying off, and from this angle it looked like a weird...

It looked like some bird

Some sort of weird bird

Your head snapped back down to the card in front of you. This wasn’t a weird bird. It was a dragon. A dragon hatching from an egg. An egg that hatched a dragon. A dragon that was drawn with the same pose as the one in Eddie’s notebook. Eddie’s notebook had your dragon no wait, your card had his dragon-

Eddie Munson had sent you the cards. 

Eddie had-

“Oh.” You said out loud. You were nearly fighting back hysterical laughter at this, and you pressed your hands against your face, with your shoulder shaking with repressed laughter. 

Why the hell had Eddie sent you those cards? The two of you had barely spoken to each other!

 You did the same damn thing, dipshit. You reminded yourself. In fact you had gone way harder than he had. But what did this MEAN? 

The bell rang and everyone scrambled to get out of the classroom, and before you could say anything, Eddie was off and running out of the classroom at the speed of light. 

What was that about?

Robin was right. If you were ever going to have a chance with him, you were going to suck it up and talk to him, even if it meant possibly embarrassing yourself. Plus, finding out why he sent you three candygrams was currently trumping any fear of rejection. Curiosity killed the cat, but at least he died satisfied. You’re pretty sure how that saying went at least. 

You knew that Eddie had Hellfire today, it was Friday and he and all of his friends had been running around in their club shirts. With a deep breath you...realized you had no idea where the hell they actually met. 

This whole thing could have been planned better, actually. 

You started walking around the school blindly for any sign of the signature baseball tee that they all wore. If you found one of them, they were sure to lead you to Eddie. God, you felt like a stalker. 

There. Long dark curls against a stark white shirt with black sleeves. Your heart leapt in your chest, and you had to make the choice now. 

“E... Eddie! Wait up!” you called out, walking quickly towards him. 

When he turned around to look at you, you felt the air disappear from your lungs. How was it possible for him to be so beautiful and why the fuck did no one in this school seem to notice? 

Eddie pulled the lollipop he’d been sucking on out of his mouth, surprised to see you. 

“Hey.” he said. “Uh... you sit next to me in class.” 

He was either playing dumb, or you were about to make an ass of yourself. But, like Robin asked, since when do you care about dignity?

You reached into your bag and pulled out the candygrams that had been sent to you and holding them out. 

To your relief he gave you a bashful smile. “Guess you caught me, huh?” he asked. “You solved my Valentine’s puzzle.” 

“I have a pretty high intelligence when I apply myself.” you said, which only made him grin wide. “But I gotta say, Munson. I’m actually a little disappointed. I mean, sadistic and scary dungeon master of the Hellfire club, and this is the best puzzle you could come up with?”

He crossed his arms and took a step towards you. “Well, I don’t know you as well as I’d like.” he said, and your stomach erupted into butterflies. “Had to start somewhere.” 

“I guess I had to be sneaky and pay attention to you to figure it out. You’re hard not to notice, you know.” you admitted, crossing your arms as well to mimic him. 

“Being The Freak means I fail most stealth checks.” he shrugged. 

“High charisma though.” you threw out there, hoping that line would land and to your delight it did.

“It’s the Munson Magic. I come by it naturally.” Eddie’s smile was so wide it was cheesy but shit, it was working on you. 

“Not great intelligence though.” you smirked at him. 

“Oh? And how do you figure that?” He looked a little offended now, and you saw his shoulder stiffen as if he was waiting for this to suddenly go south. 

“Spell my name, Eddie.” 

You could see the lightbulb go off in his mind and his eyes widened. 

“You- wait, you were the one who kept sending me the cards?” Eddie looked nothing short of bewildered and ecstatic. You had a feeling that if things went well, you wouldn’t have to worry about ever knowing what he was thinking as he wore every emotion on his sleeve. 

“Surprise?” you asked, playing with the strap of your backpack. 

Eddie licked his lips, chasing the last of the flavor of the sucker he’d been eating. He looked at you, as if searching for something, and you cut in before he had the chance to find it. 

“Do you want to hang out sometime?” you asked, a little louder than you meant to. “Like, just us.”

“Do you think you can handle a date with The Freak?” Eddie asked, standing a little straighter. “I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors, and I promise the worst of them are true.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Eddie, I’ve always wanted to join Hellfire.” you smirked. “I’m sure there are worse things for a first date than sacrificing someone to Satan, or summoning demons, or joining a cult.”

“I’m a gentleman, I would never ask a lady to summon demons on the first date. That’s at least a third date activity.” Eddie held his hand to his heart and raised a hand as if making an oath. 

Oh yeah, you were going to marry him. You were already picturing proposing to him and taking him away from this town. 

“Then how about dinner at Benny’s?” you suggested. “Burgers and shakes on me and you can tell me more about Hellfire and dragons and I can give you a spelling lesson.”

Eddie ran his ringed fingers through his hair and you giggled as the rings got snagged and he struggled to untangle them. 

“It’s.. a date then.” he said, but it came out as more of a question, as if he was asking if this was really happening. 

“A date.” You agreed, handing him your number, having come prepared. 

As you began to walk away, he called out after you. 

“Wait! You said you wanted to check out Hellfire, right?” Eddie said and you turned to look at him. “I’m... I’m actually running a one shot tonight. Kind of beginner friendly enough. I don’t often do this in the middle of the semester but one of our usuals dropped out because he had a date so... we have an open seat at the table. If you think you can handle it.”

Your smile widened as you walked over to him. “I think I’ll take you up on that.”

Eddie offered his arm to you, as if he were a gentleman which you took eagerly. 

“So... how do you actually spell your name?” 

---

Dear Reader, I hope you have the easiest name to spell because that would make this fic at least 3% funnier. Also, I'm proud I got this done before Valentine's day because I never even finished my Halloween or Christmas fic. Be proud of me.

Please reblog if you enjoyed it <3

Tag List: @gagasbee, @ihaventgotaclue-really @tastefullyferal @anonymouskiwi @hellfiredarling