Requests are open, just send an ask and I'll see what I can do. I will not write smut! I'm just not comfortable with that. If you want to be tagged in anything let me know. :)
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Last update: 17 November 2024
Eddie Munson
Drunk late night talks with Eddie
Part One: Zombie apocalypse
Oneshots:
Potatosoup and pouring rain
Fluff, comfort. Summary: Eddie falls in love with his best friend y/n and they get closer one evening when she's feeling down after an argument with her parents and needs his kitchen to calm down.
Recipe for the potatosoup
Don't you dare think I have a crush on you
Summary: Who would've thought, that a supposedly broken fridge would bring Eddie and his neighbor, aka former classmate Y/N closer together.
Let me take care of you
Comfort/fluff Summary: Eddie is determined to be the one who takes care of the reader while she is the one who's always taking care of others.
Accidental encounter
Fluff Summary: Eddie and you have a very accidental encounter at night.
You know I hate you, right?
Request, enemies to lovers, fluff.
A very unmerry christmas
Fluff. Where it's your first Christmas with Eddie but you hate Christmas with all your heart.
No-date-policy
Request, Fluff. After some crazy years of university stress, heartbreaks, family problems and the wrong kind of friends, Y/N decided to take a year to discover herself, figure out her dreams and wishes. With her newfound freedom she just wanted to do some Minijobs and travel the world. No university stressing her with exams, no annoying family who's trying to tell her what to do, no backstabbing friends, and most importantly: no dating and no more heartaches. But boy oh boy, she could've never been more wrong.
No sex and drugs - just rock'n'roll
Request, Fluff, kinda enemies to lovers, Rockstar!Eddie Munson x guitarist!Reader, where rockstar!Eddie tries to convince reader that he's not one of those cliche Rockstars, but has honest intentions to date her.
Breathe with me
Fluff, comfort, established relationship Anxiety strikes at the worst times, and tonight - out with Eddie Munson for the long-awaited premiere of Return of the Jedi - is no exception. But Eddie, with his calm presence, has a way of making everything feel manageable - even the chaos in your mind.
Fixing the view
When Eddie’s contact lenses become an unexpected issue during a night in with friends, you step in to help, revealing a softer side of Eddie you hadn’t noticed before. What starts as a simple favor quickly becomes a quiet, intimate moment, leaving both of you questioning if there’s more beneath the playful banter.
Gareth
You want me to stay?
Summary: Y/N Henderson had to deal with a lot for the past few years, no big surprise it left some scars. One night at the grocery store she could hide from her demons, but luckily some hellfireclub members came to her rescue.
A will to live.
Summary: the world's been crashing down on y/n Henderson again. Her brother was desperately looking for help from one of his sister's best friends, Gareth. (Fluff)
Skip Muck
Don't you dare think I fell in love with you
Fluff. Y/n had a fun night, and perhaps a few drinks. She spent the night under bill guarneres supervision. Early in the morning she left, so she won't get caught being in the boys barracks. On her way back to her office she met skip. A storm is coming, so she took him to her office to stay safe. Well ... Things get a bit interesting after a little talk.
When that one ex best friend, who said to one of your friends "Yeah, maybe she should finally kill herself instead of just talking about it" behind your back while you were still besties, suddenly texts you "Heyyyy bestie! How are you?"
Bitch, please don't ever talk to me again, thanks.
A piece i made some time ago. Hollow knight and quirrel having a snack time! Though hollow knight is probably having a crisis trying to figure out how to eat that sandwich...
Summary: When your family needs your help, you turn to your best friend Eddie Munson to take care of your beloved guinea pigs. Couldn't be that difficult, right?
Warnings: use of y/n, but other than that none I think
Wordcount: 4.4k
Taglist: @violettsoul @evileyeandthecattywhumps
Masterlist
If you want to be tagged in coming fanfics or if you want to request something, feel free to send me a dm or an ask. 🥰 Likes, comments and especially reblogs are always welcome. 🤗
“Okay, guys, we’ve got this,” Eddie said softly as he knelt down, trying to convince himself as much as the little creatures in front of him.
“We totally got this.”
Who was he kidding? He totally didn’t have this. What had possessed him to agree to this quest?
As the little furballs scurried back into their houses, teeth chattering in disapproval of the strange guy invading their space, Eddie leaned back against the rustling beanbag and sighed.
Eddie loved animals—really, he did. Sometimes, he even loved them more than people. But most animals didn’t seem to love him back. He was usually too loud, too hectic, too fidgety, and he ended up scaring them away.
“Come on, I’m not a bad guy,” he tried to convince the crested guinea pig that was cautiously sticking its nose out of the door, sniffling and clearly unimpressed with Eddie's presence.
“Hey, it’s not my fault, okay? You’re the one who needs special care. I’m just doing what I’ve been told,” Eddie said, as if reasoning with the little ball of fur would somehow help. Did the guinea pig even understand him? Probably not—it’s just a guinea pig. Guinea pigs couldn’t understand humans, right?
When you had asked him to take care of your guinea pigs for a few days while you were out of town, he figured it wouldn’t be that hard. Feed them a couple of times a day, refill their water bottle—how complicated could it be?
But, oh boy, was he wrong.
You were the most generous person he’d ever met, always caring for every creature that crossed your path. For as long as he’d known you, you’d always had special needs animals in your care. Abandoned rabbits, blind cats, deaf dogs, birds with deformed wings, abused animals—you always tried to give these innocent souls a place of refuge.
The other day, you got a call from your family, needing your help with your grandma’s funeral. In a panic, you reached out to Eddie, asking if he could take care of your beloved guinea pigs. Knowing Eddie’s kind nature and willingness to help, you entrusted him with the responsibility of looking after Elvis and the other guinea pigs in your absence.
Who could possibly refuse such a request?
Certainly not Eddie.
Before you left, you handed him a list of instructions on how to take care of the guinea pigs, especially Elvis, your oldest guinea pig who needed special attention due to his dental issues.
Veggies cut in thin slices.
He eats pretty slowly, so make sure the others don’t steal his food.
Make sure nothing gets stuck where his teeth are growing back.
Nothing complicated, right? But he hadn’t expected Elvis to be such a diva. When you led him into the living room, where the huge guinea pig cage took up half the space, the other guinea pigs had excitedly approached the glass pane enclosing the cage. But Elvis stayed at the back, laying majestically in his snuggle sack, eyeing Eddie warily, clearly unimpressed by his presence.
As soon as you left and Eddie tried to introduce himself, Elvis sprinted into one of the wooden houses, out of Eddie’s reach. Realizing this task might be more complicated than he’d thought, Eddie sat down and observed the guinea pigs for a while. Maybe they just needed to get used to his presence? Maybe they were just shy and needed to see that he wasn’t a threat?
He glanced at the list you gave him: Treats are in the drawer next to the cage.
Treats sounded like a good idea. He grabbed a handful of pea flakes and tried to lure the guinea pigs out, carefully whispering reassuring words to them as if they could understand him.
Bit by bit, the first noses peeked out of the houses, sniffing the delicious treats in his hand. But it took some more time before the first guinea pig dared to approach Eddie, sneaking up to him cautiously. Excited, Eddie held his breath, freezing like a statue so as not to scare the fragile, timid creature. Just as he was struggling to hold his breath any longer, the guinea pig grabbed one of the flakes and, with its head held high, ran back into one of the houses.
He knew he had to be patient to gain their trust, but no matter what he tried, Elvis wouldn’t come out, making the task nearly impossible.
The rest of the day, Eddie spent in the living room, switching between the couch and the bean bag next to the cage. Whenever he moved around, he made sure to be as quiet as possible. Sitting still was something Eddie wasn’t really good at—he was always fidgeting with anything he could get his hands on.
After a while, he decided to read something to them. Maybe the sound of his voice would help the piggies get used to him? At least it would help him stay still. He figured it didn’t matter what he read aloud, so he inspected the small bookshelf in the corner of the room.
“Romeo and Juliet?” He glanced over his shoulder, searching for approval.
“No, maybe… What about Dracula? No, that’s probably too scary for you guys.” His eyes scanned the other titles. “Red Dragon? No, not appropriate. The Shining? Or maybe Carrie?” He furrowed his brows as he picked up one of the books and turned it around to read the blurb.
“Goddamn, these are some pretty bloody and violent books for such a gentle girl,” he muttered, surprised by your choice in literature. He put Cujo back on the shelf before finding Howl’s Moving Castle.
That might do the trick.
To lure the piggies out of their houses, he placed a bowl of thinly sliced vegetables in the middle of the cage and sat down on the bean bag, reading to them in a soft voice. But still, Elvis remained stubborn, refusing to come out of his house.
“Damn, you really are one headstrong little guy, huh?” Eddie peeked through the entrance of Elvis’s hiding place. “I won’t hurt you. I just wanna make sure you get enough food.”
They locked eyes in a silent standoff—two stubborn souls, neither willing to give in. Eddie cocked his head, looking at Elvis with pleading puppy eyes.
“Come on, dude. Do it for Y/N,” he said, a hint of desperation in his voice, as he held out his hand, offering some pea flakes. But Elvis simply turned his back on Eddie. Groaning, Eddie leaned back into the bean bag. How was he supposed to take care of this little guy?
The next couple of hours were a trial of patience for Eddie. Bit by bit the other guinea pigs started to become comfortable around Eddie - accepting the neatly cut veggie strips he offered them in an attempt to gain their trust. They even let him touch them and ate right out of his hand after some time. But Elvis? Hell no. There was no sign he started to trust Eddie. No matter what Eddie tried - pea flakes, grapes, cucumber or even blueberries - Elvis wouldn’t even look at him.
Slowly Eddie became frustrated, even anxiously because Elvis simply wouldn’t eat anything other than hay. After countless rejections Eddie searched through your kitchen, not actually knowing what he was looking for. He let out a sigh, his fingers running through his hair, about to give up, when finally he found a big bush of parsley taking up the space of the kitchen's windowsill. “Okay, one last try” he declared and gently picked a few twigs.
With the parsley in hand Eddie sat down on the bean bag again. “Hopefully this’ll work” he said before he tried to lure Elvis out of his hiding place. And miraculously it was working. Slowly Elvis’ nose peeked out of the little plushy tunnel he was hiding in. And it didn’t take long before, paw after paw, he followed the smell of the parsley in Eddie's hand.
“So you’re just like everyone else,” Eddie stated, grinning like an idiot, “Everyone is corruptible, even a guinea pig like you.” Relieved Eddie watched the little guy munch on that parsley. The little triumph filled Eddie with so much pride, he was convinced that there was nothing stopping him from successfully completing this quest. Even though Elvis was still on high alert, inspecting Eddie attentively and freezing every now and then when Eddie dared to move ever so slightly, it was another small step in the right direction, another piece of the puzzle that was earning the trust of these tiny creatures—Elvis, most of all.
Every morning, he would sit by the cage, reading softly from Howl’s Moving Castle, carefully offering treats, and speaking in his gentlest tone. The other guinea pigs had started to warm up to him, now eagerly gathering around whenever they saw or heard him coming. But Elvis remained stubborn, only occasionally poking his nose out to observe the others before retreating back into his hideaway.
Eddie found himself growing more and more determined. There was something about the challenge that made him even more committed to winning Elvis’s trust. Maybe it was because you had entrusted him with such an important task, or maybe it was because he recognized a kindred spirit in the little guy—a fellow outcast, wary of letting others in.
On the third day, a breakthrough happened. Eddie was lying on the floor next to the cage, chin resting on his hands, his voice low and soothing as he read another chapter. He hadn’t noticed at first, but slowly, ever so slowly, Elvis began to inch closer to the entrance of his wooden house. Eddie kept reading, trying not to make any sudden movements. After what felt like an eternity, Elvis crept out just enough to sniff the air, his tiny whiskers twitching.
Eddie’s heart raced. He didn’t move, barely even breathed, as Elvis cautiously approached the bowl of veggies. The little guy sniffed around, eyes constantly flicking up to keep Eddie in sight. But eventually, he started to nibble on a piece of lettuce, his guard seemingly lowered. Eddie smiled to himself, feeling a surge of triumph. Maybe, just maybe, they were slowly starting to understand each other.
But getting Elvis to eat in his presence was one thing; getting him to trust Eddie enough to be touched was another. Every time Eddie tried to reach out, Elvis would dart back into his house, and they would be back to square one. Frustration gnawed at Eddie, but he refused to give up. He tried everything he could think of—different treats, talking to Elvis in even softer tones, staying as still as a statue whenever the guinea pig ventured out. But nothing seemed to work.
One afternoon, after another failed attempt to coax Elvis out, Eddie slumped onto the couch, feeling defeated. He had a sprig of parsley in his hand, the latest in his arsenal of treats, but Elvis wasn’t biting—literally or figuratively. Eddie absentmindedly twirled the parsley between his fingers, thinking about what he might be doing wrong. Then, a thought struck him. He remembered how you had once mentioned that animals, especially small ones like guinea pigs, relied heavily on scent. Maybe Elvis was so attached to you because he associated your scent with safety.
Eddie searched through your apartment until he found a little cupboard in the bathroom, filled with makeup, different sorts of hairspray and a few little flacons of perfume. He stared at it for a moment, the idea forming in his mind. It was ridiculous, wasn’t it? But then again, everything else had failed. What did he have to lose?
With a determined sigh, Eddie grabbed the bottle and spritzed a small amount on his hoodie. The familiar scent filled the air, a mix of something floral and earthy, like freshly cut grass. He couldn’t help but smile a little—this was so absurd it just might work.
Feeling a bit silly, but hopeful, Eddie returned to the cage. He gently placed the parsley in front of Elvis’s hideaway and then sat back, waiting. Eventually, Elvis emerged, sniffing the air as usual. But this time, something was different. His tiny nose twitched more rapidly, almost excited, and he stepped out a little farther than usual, his gaze fixed on Eddie. The guinea pig’s hesitation seemed to lessen, and to Eddie’s astonishment, Elvis slowly made his way over to him, stopping just short of where Eddie’s hand rested on the floor.
Eddie’s heart pounded as Elvis sniffed at his hand, clearly intrigued by the scent. He stayed perfectly still, allowing the little creature to take his time. Finally, with what seemed like a deep breath of resolve, Elvis nudged the parsley with his nose and then—almost miraculously—climbed into Eddie’s lap. Eddie was so shocked he barely dared to move. But Elvis, after a moment of careful observation, seemed to decide that this strange new version of Eddie was okay, settling down on his lap.
Eddie let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Gently, he raised a hand and started to stroke Elvis’s soft fur. This time, the guinea pig didn’t flinch or run. Instead, he let out a tiny, contented squeak, closing his eyes and stretching out his legs as Eddie continued to pet him. Eddie grinned like a fool, feeling like he’d just won the lottery.
Eddie had settled into a routine with the guinea pigs over the next couple of days. He'd spend his mornings preparing their veggies, carefully slicing them just the way you had shown him, then patiently coaxing Elvis out of his hideaway with a mix of treats, soft words and the scent of your perfume. Though Elvis had finally started to warm up to him, Eddie still found himself with plenty of downtime as the guinea pigs quietly went about their business.
That afternoon, as the guinea pigs dozed off after their midday snack, Eddie found himself drawn to his guitar, which he had brought along just in case he needed something to pass the time. He hadn’t played much since he’d been focused on the guinea pigs, but the itch to strum a few chords was starting to get to him. So, he grabbed his guitar and lay down on the floor, fingers absentmindedly picking at the strings.
He started with something soft, just a few random chords, not really thinking about what he was playing. The sound of the guitar strings filled the room, blending with the soft rustle of hay from the guinea pig cage. Eddie smiled to himself, feeling the familiar comfort of the guitar beneath his fingers.
But as he relaxed into the music, his fingers instinctively drifted into a familiar riff—Metallica's "For Whom the Bell Tolls." The heavy, thrumming notes reverberated through the room, and Eddie couldn’t help but get into it, his fingers moving more confidently across the strings as he lost himself in the music.
He was just starting to really enjoy himself when he noticed something strange. The peaceful quiet of the room had been interrupted by a series of sharp, disapproving clicks. Eddie paused mid-riff and looked over at the cage, where all five guinea pigs were wide awake, teeth chattering in what could only be described as intense disapproval.
Eddie raised an eyebrow, his fingers hovering above the strings. "Seriously, guys?" he muttered, half-amused, half-offended. He plucked another string experimentally, and the chattering grew louder, the guinea pigs shifting restlessly in their cage.
He chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. "What, you don’t like Metallica? I thought you guys had better taste than that." But the guinea pigs weren’t having it—every time he strummed a chord, their chatter became more insistent, as if they were staging a tiny, furry protest.
Eddie couldn’t help but laugh. “Alright, alright, I get it. No Metallica,” he conceded, setting his guitar aside with a grin. “Guess you’re more into the easy-listening stuff, huh?” He rolled onto his back, looking up at the ceiling with a sigh. “Can’t believe I’m getting critiqued by a bunch of guinea pigs,” he muttered to himself, a smile still tugging at his lips.
The room fell back into a peaceful silence, the guinea pigs settling down once more as Eddie let the moment wash over him. He was still smiling, even as he turned his thoughts back to the challenge of getting Elvis to trust him completely.
A few minutes later, he picked up his guitar again, but this time, instead of metal, he gently strummed a softer melody—something calm and soothing, more to the guinea pigs' taste. The chatter subsided, and Eddie felt a small sense of victory as he noticed them relaxing again.
As the days passed, Elvis began to venture closer and closer to Eddie. The once hesitant little guinea pig now seemed less afraid of the strange man who had taken over his home. Eddie noticed the subtle changes—how Elvis would come out of his hiding spot more often, how he’d eat his veggies with less hesitation, and how he’d sometimes watch Eddie with what looked like growing curiosity.
One afternoon, after hours of reading aloud and playing soft melodies on his guitar, Eddie felt the weight of the day catching up to him. The warm afternoon sun filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. The rhythmic sounds of the guinea pigs munching on their food, coupled with the cozy warmth of the bean bag, lulled Eddie into a sleepy daze.
Before he knew it, he had dozed off, his head resting against the back of the bean bag, his breathing slow and steady.
Unbeknownst to Eddie, Elvis had also grown sleepy. The little guinea pig had gradually moved closer to the side of the cage nearest Eddie, his tiny body finally relaxing as he curled up in a pile of hay. For the first time since you had left, Elvis drifted into a deep, peaceful sleep, feeling safe with Eddie nearby.
About an hour later, Eddie stirred awake. His neck ached slightly from the angle he’d been sleeping in, but as he stretched and rubbed his eyes. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but the nap had been surprisingly refreshing. He turned to check on the guinea pigs, expecting to see them scurrying around or nibbling on some hay.
But then he noticed Elvis, who was still lying in the same spot, completely still. Eddie’s smile faded as a pang of worry shot through him. He leaned closer to the cage, his heart starting to race. Elvis wasn’t moving at all.
“Elvis?” Eddie called softly, tapping the side of the cage. “Hey, buddy, you okay?”
There was no response. No twitch of the nose, no flutter of the ears—nothing. Eddie’s mind immediately jumped to the worst-case scenario. Was Elvis…? No, he couldn’t be. But the stillness, the lack of movement, made Eddie’s stomach twist in fear.
Panic set in as Eddie quickly reached out to gently pet Elvis’ white crest, his hands trembling. “Elvis, come on, don’t do this to me,” he murmured, trying to nudge the guinea pig gently. But Elvis remained motionless, his tiny body limp and unresponsive.
“Oh god,” Eddie breathed, his voice tinged with desperation. “Y/N’s gonna kill me. I’m so sorry, Elvis, I didn’t—”
He froze mid-sentence, his brain scrambling for a solution. Maybe Elvis was just in a deep sleep, right? Maybe he just needed a little incentive to wake up. Eddie’s eyes darted around the room, searching for something—anything—that might help.
Then he remembered the parsley. Seemingly Elvis’ favorite thing to snack.
Practically diving for the drawer, Eddie grabbed a sprig of parsley, his hands shaking as he brought it up to Elvis’s nose. “Come on, little guy,” Eddie begged, holding his breath and praying to whatever god might hear him right now. “I know you love this stuff. Just wake up, please.”
For a moment, nothing happened. Eddie’s heart pounded in his chest, and he was on the verge of full-blown panic. But then, just as he was about to lose hope, Elvis’s nose twitched. It was barely noticeable at first, but Eddie’s sharp eyes caught it. Then, slowly, Elvis’s whiskers twitched, and he took a long, deep sniff of the parsley.
Eddie nearly sagged with relief. “Oh, thank God,” he muttered, watching as Elvis’s eyes fluttered open, the guinea pig groggily lifting his head to nibble on the parsley. The sight of Elvis happily munching away, casually as if nothing happened, made Eddie laugh out loud, though his laughter was shaky with the remnants of his panic.
"You scared the hell out of me, you little rascal,” Eddie said, his voice filled with both amusement and lingering relief. He gently stroked Elvis’s fur as the guinea pig chewed contentedly, seemingly unaware of the scare he’d just given Eddie.
Eddie sat back on the bean bag, his heart rate gradually returning to normal as he watched Elvis eat. The little guy had just been in a deep sleep, completely comfortable in Eddie’s presence. Eddie couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride—Elvis finally trusted him enough to sleep so soundly, something that seemed impossible just days ago.
Eddie chuckled to himself, shaking his head. “You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?” he teased, though his tone was affectionate. “But hey, at least I know how to wake you up now.”
For the rest of the day, Elvis stayed close to Eddie, either nestled in his hoodie or perched on his chest as Eddie lay on the couch. They watched TV together, with Eddie flipping through channels until he found an old movie that wouldn’t be too loud or scary.
When you returned that evening, the first thing you noticed was the unusual stillness in your living room. Expecting the usual rustling of hay and the soft chattering of your guinea pigs, you tiptoed in, not wanting to disturb whatever was happening. As you rounded the corner, the sight before you made you stop in your tracks, your heart melting instantly.
Eddie Munson, the chaotic, metal-as-fuck guy you knew, was stretched out on your couch, his wild curls splayed out on the cushion, with Elvis nestled snugly inside his hoodie, just below his chin. The two of them were watching some cheesy sitcom, but it was clear they were both on the verge of dozing off. Elvis looked completely at ease, his tiny nose twitching as he snuggled deeper into Eddie’s hoodie.
You had to stifle a giggle, half from the absurdity of the scene and half from the warmth it brought to your chest. You almost didn’t want to disturb them, but curiosity got the better of you. “How the hell did you do that?” you whispered, eyes wide with amazement. Elvis had always been so fixated on you, never letting anyone else get near him, let alone cuddle up like that. Not even your closest friends or family had managed to gain his trust like this.
Eddie stirred at the sound of your voice, blinking groggily as he turned his head to look at you. A slow, sleepy grin spread across his face when he saw the look of disbelief on yours. He glanced down at Elvis, who remained contentedly curled up, his little body rising and falling with Eddie’s steady breaths. “Oh, this?” Eddie said with a playful smirk, his voice still heavy with sleep. “I found out he’s a sucker for parsley. And, well… your perfume.”
Your eyes widened as you stepped closer, leaning in to catch the familiar scent lingering on Eddie’s hoodie. Sure enough, there it was - your perfume, the one you always wore. The realization hit you like a warm wave, making your heart flutter. “You’re wearing my perfume?” you asked, half amused, half touched by the gesture.
Eddie chuckled, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “What can I say? Figured if I couldn’t be you, I could at least smell like you. Gotta say, I think it’s working. Might have to start wearing this stuff all the time, I think it suits me, don’t you?” He winked, clearly enjoying your reaction.
You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”
“Ridiculously charming,” he teased, raising an eyebrow as if daring you to disagree. “I mean, it worked, didn’t it? This little guy’s all about the Munson charm now.” He gently stroked Elvis’s fur with the back of his finger, the guinea pig letting out a contented little purr in response.
“Looks like he’s not the only one,” you muttered under your breath, though a smile tugged at your lips as you said it.
Eddie’s grin widened as he caught your words, his eyes softening as he looked at you. “Is that so?” he drawled, his tone light but his gaze warm.
You rolled your eyes, but there was no denying the flutter in your stomach. “Maybe,” you replied, your voice just above a whisper.
For a moment, the room was quiet, filled only with the soft sounds of the sitcom. You gently draped a blanket over Eddie and Elvis, who both looked completely content in their shared little cocoon. The sight of Eddie, usually so loud and full of energy, lying there with your favorite guinea pig snuggled up against him, melted away any lingering doubts you had about him.
“Thanks for taking care of them,” you said softly, your hand lingering on the blanket for just a moment longer than necessary.
“Anytime,” Eddie replied. “I kinda get it now. Why you’re so into these little guys. Elvis is pretty cool once you get past the whole ‘tiny ball of anxiety’ thing.” His voice was sincere, though the playful glint in his eye remained. “But just so you know, I’m expecting a bonus for going above and beyond the call of duty here.”
You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? And what kind of bonus are we talking about?”
He grinned, tilting his head slightly as he looked up at you. “How about dinner? You know, as a thank you. And maybe you could tell me more about this perfume - I’m thinking of making it my signature scent.”
You laughed, the sound light and genuine. “Dinner, huh? I suppose I owe you that much.”
Eddie’s smile softened, his teasing fading into something more genuine. “You don’t owe me anything,” he said quietly, “but I wouldn’t mind spending more time with you. And Elvis, of course. We make a pretty good team.”
Your heart skipped a beat, and as you looked down at the two of them, the warmth in your chest spread until it felt like you might burst. Maybe there was something special here - something you hadn’t expected to find.
“Well,” you said, your voice soft, “I guess dinner it is.”
xxx
I wrote this just for myself because I miss my little diva so so much. But I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless. The picture above is one of my favorites, Elvis in his favorite blanket, sleeping on my hand.
It's 1 a.m. Normally I would be sitting at home on my couch, wrapped in a cozy blanket, probably watching Clarkson's Farm for the fifth time and crocheting some ugly stuffed animal. But no. My best friend thought that after my four months of depression isolation, he should drag outside to "socialize" into a crappy student bar for metal night. And now I'm sitting here, everyone around dressed in black, except for me glowing like a Christmas tree under the black light in my white Soad unicorn rainbow shirt.
Do I have the time of my life? Yes!
Do I brought my yarn and hook? Also yes, because I'm fucking old!
I'm pretty sure my voice will be gone tomorrow, but halfdrunkenly singing along to Chop Suey from the top of my lungs with a bunch of drunk 50 years olds, dressed in Metallica, van Halen and Black Sabbath shirts is definitely one of the best memories of my fucking life so far.
It's 1 a.m. Normally I would be sitting at home on my couch, wrapped in a cozy blanket, probably watching Clarkson's Farm for the fifth time and crocheting some ugly stuffed animal. But no. My best friend thought that after my four months of depression isolation, he should drag outside to "socialize" into a crappy student bar for metal night. And now I'm sitting here, everyone around dressed in black, except for me glowing like a Christmas tree under the black light in my white Soad unicorn rainbow shirt.
Do I have the time of my life? Yes!
Do I brought my yarn and hook? Also yes, because I'm fucking old!
A/N: I was just bored at work, okay? And my first contact lenses customer being some dangerously cute guy wasn't helping at all. I know, this one's a bit specific, but I just felt like writing it.
Summary: When Eddie’s contact lenses become an unexpected issue during a night in with friends, you step in to help, revealing a softer side of Eddie you hadn’t noticed before. What starts as a simple favor quickly becomes a quiet, intimate moment, leaving both of you questioning if there’s more beneath the playful banter.
Warnings: Brief eye contact discomfort, Mild physical contact (touching face, applying eye drops), slight romantic tension, reader being an optician
Taglist: @violettsoul @evileyeandthecattywhumps
Masterlist
Wordcount: 817
If you want to be tagged in coming fanfics or if you want to request something, feel free to send me a dm or an ask. 🥰 Likes, comments and especially reblogs are always welcome. 🤗
You hadn’t exactly planned on spending your Friday evening in someone's basement, but when Gareth asked you to join them after their gig you couldn’t say no either. With your beer in hand, you were trying to follow Gareth’s theory about Jar Jar Binks actually being a Sithlord, but your focus was quickly shattered as you noticed Eddie Munson blinking way too much than what would be normal.
“Hey Munson,” you called out, cocking your head as you faced him. “Are you trying to tell me some secret in morse code for the past thirty minutes or what the hell is wrong with you?”
Eddie stiffened, feeling a flush rise to his cheeks he awfully tried to cover by feigning indifference. “It’s nothing, really. I think I just fucked up my contact lenses,” he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Your eyebrow arched and couldn’t help that amused smile creeping across your lips. “How the hell did you do that?”, you said, crossing your arms and giving him a look that dared him to answer. But he just shrugged, clearly hoping you wouldn’t push any further.
But much to his dismay you stood up, moving toward him with that I’m done with your crap look. “Alright, let me see. No way I’m going to watch you squint like that for the rest of the night.”
As you stood right in front of him, he immediately threw his hands up, instinctively trying to put some distance between you. “Hell no!”, he called out, a bit too quickly, “I’m not gonna let you touch my eyes!”
You sighed and rolled your eyes, but there was a teeny tiny smile tugging at your lips. “Jeez, Munson, stop bitchin’ around, okay? I’m an optician. I actually know what I’m doing.”
“Yeah! Stop bitching around!”, called Gareth, clearly amused by the scene unfolding in front of him. Eddie shot him an irritated look, but everyone around just leaned back, sipping at their drinks, leaving him with no support.
Then he looked up to you, weighing his options, his gaze locked with yours as if he was challenging you. After a moments thought he sighed, reluctantly shifting to face you. He grumbled something under his breath and leaned back in the chair, letting you step closer, way closer than he’d expected, actually.
“Alright, look up,” you instructed. You placed a hand on his shoulder as he did as you said, his head tilting back so you could take a look. At first he flinched when he felt the gentle touch of your fingertips on his cheek. And to his surprise his mind started to race as he couldn’t help but notice how close you were, feeling your breath on his skin, warm and soft, just like your touch. A shiver ran through him, his skin tickling under your touch. And hell, he kind of liked it. Just for a moment, before he cursed himself for it.
You inspected his eye with a determined look, gently lifting his eyelid to locate the contact lens. For a moment he held his breath, silently admiring the features of your face he never really paid attention to before, the curve of your lips, the little crease between your brows as you were focused on his contact lens that stuck to his upper eyelid. He swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry as you took your time, your hand resting lightly against his face. And for a split second he wondered if you were intentionally taking this long.
“I got some eye drops for dry eyes. I think that’ll help,” you said and turned to fish a small bottle out of your bag. And as soon as you turned around, your fingers no longer on his skin, he already missed their soft warmth.
With the bottle in hand you gently held his chin to lift his head again, pinching his eyelid with your other hand and holding his eye open, then you pressed the drops in. He blinked rapidly, the contact lens finally slipping back where it belonged, a couple of drops streaking down his cheek. You reached forward without thinking, carefully wiping them away.
“See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?,” you said teasingly, but your hand lingered on his face for a moment longer than necessary, the hint of a smile playing at your lips until you finally leaned back.
Eddie couldn’t fight the grin that slipped onto his face and he felt like some idiot. But soon he huffed, rolling his eyes and trying to regain his usual smirk. “Yeah, whatever,” he muttered, but didn’t pull away as quickly as you expected, seemingly enjoying the unfamiliar warmth of your presence.
And as you took a stepped back, you noticed the slight blush that crept up his neck, finding it oddly satisfying to see him, for once, at a complete loss for words.
