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withleeknow · 4 months

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wishful thinking. (02)

chapter two: in plain sight

summary: the instruction was plain and simple: no strings attached. but you should’ve known from the beginning that it could never apply to you and him.

pairing: minho x f!reader rating: 18+ (minors dni) genres: friends to lovers, friends with benefits au, college au; fluff, angst, smut warnings: cursing, drinking, suggestive content at the end, could've been edited more but oh well lol word count: 4.9k

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

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Damn baby, I'm a train wreck, too I lose my mind when it comes to you I take time with the ones I choose And I don't want to smile if it ain't from you

boyfriend - Ariana Grande ft. Social House

You end up not seeing Minho, nor any of your other friends, at all in the few days leading up to Yeonjun’s party.

True to your words, you were mostly holed up in your place, running on nothing but caffeine and sheer frustration, trying to finish your elective class’ final paper on the differences between the views of Greek philosophers. Time really flies when you wish it would slow down, because you could've used a couple more days to perfect the godforsaken thing.

You’ve been texting Minho though, and honestly, the man is practically a saint. You barely even talked about anything besides your stupid paper and your high maintenance perfectionist professor, and yet, he still listened to you yap away. He even offered to help you with your footnotes and citations, which you didn’t need, but the gesture was nice. If you had turned to Seungmin with your whining, he probably would've muted your notifications after three messages.

Regardless, all complaining aside, you did manage to pull through and finish the paper in the end, letting out a big sigh of relief the very second you clicked on the Send button on yours and your professor’s email thread just five minutes before the deadline.

Before you know it, it's already Saturday and Minho should be here any minute now so you two could go to the party. You’ve been working hard. You deserve to let a little loose tonight.

Even though a college party isn’t exactly your top choice of ways to wind down from stress, the mention of free and unlimited booze sure does sound alluring.

When your phone lights up with a simple i’m here from Minho, you quickly throw on a cardigan over a simple black camisole and denim shorts and check your makeup in the mirror one last time before heading downstairs. He texted you a couple hours ago, saying he had some stuff to pick up near your place and asking if you wanted to walk to Yeonjun’s together. You sent him back an enthusiastic yes!!! in a matter of seconds, because lord knows you’d rather not enter the front door of that house unaccompanied.

You opted for a simple fit tonight, mostly because you couldn’t be bothered to put on anything more decent only to go to the equivalent of a frat party.

“Hey, Min.” Your voice pulls him away from scrolling through his phone, diverting his attention to you instead.

“Hey,” he says, tucking the device into the pocket of his jeans. When he gives you a once-over, you do a little twirl for him, finishing off with an exaggerated kick of your foot at the end. “You look nice.”

“Just ‘nice’? I’m trying to get laid tonight. ‘Nice’ isn’t gonna cut it,” you joke.

He stares at you, a bashful expression befalling his features, the corner of his mouth lifted upward as he smiles in hubris. “You’re trying to get laid by whom?”

“I don’t know.” You shrug. “You tell me.”

He rolls his eyes affectionately before throwing an arm around your shoulders to pull you close. One of his hands musses up your hair that you spent twenty minutes trying to make look perfect, prompting you to poke him in the side so he would let go of you.

“Hey!” you scowl, smoothing over the strands that he flicked out of place. “I worked hard on that!”

“Sorry,” he chuckles, clearly amused by the temporarily sulky look on your face. “Didn’t want you to look too pretty. Can’t have all of the attention on you. Someone might try to steal you away from me.”

“Did it occur to you that maybe I want some attention tonight? I’ve been a hermit all week, I deserve a little something.”

“Is my attention not enough for you?”

You squint at him for a second. Then, you start walking in the direction of Yeonjun’s house without waiting for him. You hear Minho launch a laugh your way, and the scuffling of his shoes on the concrete pavement as he easily catches up with you in a few strides.

He leans down to whisper directly into your ear, making your cheeks heat up but you’re glad that they’re partially masked by the poorly lit street. “You know you never have to try.”

The walk to the party takes about fifteen minutes. When you’re rounding the street corner that leads to Yeonjun’s place, you can already hear the booming music coming from the biggest house on the block. Even from a distance, you can see people on the lawn and the two balconies on the second floor. You gotta give it to the guy - he sure knows how to throw a party.

The second you enter the premises, you’re almost taken aback by how crowded it actually is even though you expected this. A typical Yeonjun party.

You tug on Minho’s shirt, beckoning him to bend down so you could talk into his ear over the sounds of bad EDM and people basically having to scream in each other’s faces. “Are Hyunjin and the others here yet?” you ask.

“They got here right before us. I think they’re in-”

“Y/N!” The two of you whip around at the sound of a shrill voice calling out your name. Yeonjun practically shoves his way through the crowd of people when he spots you, bounding up to you and Minho with a bright grin on his face. “Glad you could make it!” he says, paying no mind to the man next to you at all. He eyes you up and down, shamelessly tugging his bottom lip between his teeth. “Damn, you look really good tonight.”

You give him a playful eye roll. Nonetheless, you still tell him, “Thanks.”

“You look that good to come to my party?”

You don’t mind at all the fact that Yeonjun is a natural flirt. That’s just a part of his personality, he’s inherently charming like that. It’s harmless and it doesn’t make you uncomfortable. Everything is all in good fun.

“Would you believe me if I said this is what I’d wear on a midnight convenience store run?”

“Ouch, you wound me.” Yeonjun says, holding a hand over his heart to emphasize his point. “C’mon, you can admit it.”

You open your mouth, a quick comeback about to be thrown his way but Minho chimes in from beside you.

“You should believe her,” he deadpans, stepping closer to you, one of his hands grazing your back. He's even standing straighter, with his chest all puffed out. “She even dresses like that when she takes out the trash.”

You turn to gasp at him before punching him right in the pec. “Hey!” Yeonjun is all but forgotten in a blink of an eye, because you have to defend your honor first.

“What? I’ve seen you do it wearing this exact same outfit.”

“Stop lying. It’s not true.”

“Isn’t it? I distinctly remember you wearing this when you went to take out the trash that night a couple of weeks ago while we were hanging out at your place.”

“Nuh uh. I didn’t take out the trash that night,” you protest, frowning. “I made you throw it out for me on your way-”

Yeonjun interrupts you with a chuckle, glancing between you and Minho as he gives your friend's shoulder an awkward pat. They share a look that you don’t quite understand. “Alright, duly noted. I’m gonna make myself scarce,” he says. “Help yourselves. Booze is in the kitchen!”

After you’ve finally squeezed your way into the kitchen that’s overflowing with people, you narrow your eyes at Minho. “What was that about?”

“What?” He scans the selection of liquor bottles on the kitchen island before asking you, “Rum and Coke?”

Your favorite.

You nod eagerly, momentarily distracted before you have to circle back to your question.

“What was all that back there with Yeonjun, Mr. Grumpy Cat?”

“What was what?” He pulls out two solo cups from a nearby stack, along with some napkins, and meticulously wipes the plastic cups even though they look pretty clean to you. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You raise a disbelieving eyebrow. He shrugs.

“I didn’t know you and Yeonjun were that close.” Minho seems casual as he tells you this, not looking at you as he fetches the necessary liquor and soda from the sea of glass and plastic bottles in front of you.

“We’re not. I’m kinda friends with him because Jess is friends with him.”

“Okay,” he acknowledges, though he doesn’t seem entirely pleased with… you don’t even know what. “I don’t like him. He’s loud.”

“That’s not a reason. Aren’t you friends with him too?”

You watch as he mixes your drinks, a sight you’re familiar with whenever you attend house parties together. He’s always your designated bartender.

One for you, one for him.

One part rum, two and a half parts coke.

“It is a reason. And ‘friends’ is a stretch,” he says, handing you your cup before he tends to his own. His has less liquor in it, because you both know you like yours stronger. “We’re acquaintances at best.”

“You’re loud too.”

“My brand of loud is different.”

“Is it?”

He gives you a look. An offended cat, if you’ve ever seen one.

“Well, Yeonjun’s not bad,” you tell him. You take a sip of the drink, then give him a subsequent thumbs-up. “He can be a bit much for some people, but I don’t really mind it.”

When he’s done, you both try to navigate the battlefield that is Yeonjun’s extremely cramped abode. You try to stay as close to him as possible, meaning away from the loud boys that are either trying to get shitfaced as quickly as possible, or trying to suck faces with any girl they could find as quickly as possible.

“Still. You don’t think the flirting was a bit much?”

Minho pulls you to him by your elbow when some guy - probably a little more than tipsy, judging by the unsteadiness of the legs that carry him - tries to bulldoze his way through the crowd behind you.

“He’s always like that. It doesn’t mean anything. It’s harmless.”

“If he asks you out, would you say yes?”

You blink at him in surprise, feeling like the question came out of nowhere. “What kind of question is that?”

“It’s just a question,” he says, then repeats himself. “So, if he asks you out, would you say yes?”

You let him guide you to a spot that’s more breathable, where people aren’t practically on top of each other trying to weave their way through. You think about it for a second, then realize that there isn’t much to think about. “No,” you say decisively.

Because it doesn’t make sense to envision you and Yeonjun together. You practically sit on two opposing ends of the same spectrum. People often say that opposites attract, but this isn’t one of those cases.

And… because you simply feel strange thinking about yourself and someone else. Like it's something you shouldn't do.

Minho gives you a hum in acknowledgment of your answer, which you barely catch over the loudness of the party. You do catch the hint of a smile that tugs at the corner of his lip though, before he cranes his neck to scan the room for any trace of your gang of thieves.

“If I didn’t know any better,” you run the words over in your head before you decide to utter them out loud. Like you told him just now, harmless, right? “I’d say you’re jealous of Yeonjun.”

He turns, stares at you for a moment with unreadable eyes.

“And what if I am?”

There’s something incredulous in the way you look at him. You think he would just wave you off or roll his eyes and move onto a new topic, not expecting him to fire back with a question you can’t really answer.

Or maybe he’s just playing along. You can’t tell.

“Am I that good in bed?” you chuckle, hoping he doesn’t notice the inkling of nervousness in your voice. “Did I do a number on you?”

He raises both eyebrows, pursing his lips as if in thought. Then, he answers, “Something like that.”

There’s a part of you that wants to dig deeper, to get him to say what he really means because there’s something in his eyes and there’s something in the way that his hand has moved to its designated place on the small of your back that makes your stomach roll with anticipation.

Again, you don’t like that he keeps getting harder for you to read.

You try to think of words to say, of questions to ask, though you know this party isn’t the best place to voice them. “What d-”

“There you are!” Hyunjin pops up from behind Minho, practically jumping onto his back like a jumpscare ghost in a horror game, startling the both of you and almost making the grumpy cat spill his drink. Minho groans as he tries to shove his friend off, before sending Hyunjin a glare that makes the man bow his head in apology. He promptly drags you to where your friends are gathered on a big couch near the back of the room - Chan and his girlfriend Jess, Seungmin, Changbin, along with a distinct absence of a few more faces.

“Where are the others?” you ask, plopping down next to Changbin, followed suit by Minho.

“Jisung is stuck finishing a project,” Chan informs you. “And Jeongin is taking his girl to that new drive-in movie place.”

“They’re still in their honeymoon phase?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“Ah yes, young love. Good for them.”

You catch up with everyone about your week, about their week; gossip about how much Yeonjun might’ve spent on this party and where his family’s downright insane wealth actually comes from, about Seungmin’s on-and-off situationship (which might be more interesting than all of the above).

Minho remains seated next to you the entire time you’re all drinking and laughing with each other. He keeps subtly touching you one way or another - a hand on your back because no one’s really noticing, a shoulder brushing yours, a thigh touching yours, a knee nudging your own every now and then.

It’s not until you finish your drink that Minho asks if you want another one, then stands up to head to the kitchen when you say Yes, please.

The second he’s out of earshot, Hyunjin jumps into action, motioning for everyone to huddle together, like he’s about to share classified information.

“Minho is seeing someone,” he says immediately.

“What?” Changbin asks. You hope he doesn’t notice the way your body immediately stiffens at the conversation’s sudden turn. You try to look as nonchalant and quiet as possible, as if this is just a talk about the weather, missing the way a pair of eyes flits to you outside of your peripheral vision.

Hyunjin purses his lips, before clarifying, “I went through his phone last week.”

“You went through his phone?” Chan frowns, shaking his head disapprovingly. “That’s not cool, dude.”

“He was in the bathroom and his phone was just sitting there unlocked. Then he got a text and I had to!” Hyunjin holds up his hands defensively. “Anyway, I don’t know if they’re dating or if they’re just fooling around, but there is someone! He’s simping hard.”

“How do you know that?” Seungmin chimes in. “Do you even know who it is?”

“I don’t know who it is. That’s what I need you guys to help me find out. There wasn’t a name name. He just calls her his-”

“What on earth are you guys doing?” Minho’s voice makes everyone disperse, leaning back into their respective seats like they were caught doing something they shouldn’t. He sits down beside you again, handing you your cup back. You give him an appreciative but awkward smile. “What is Hyunjin blabbing about this time?”

“Nothing!” Hyunjin practically squeaks. The poor guy can’t spin a little white lie to save his life. Then he has the audacity to look offended as he gapes, “Also, why did you automatically assume it was me?”

“Because it’s always you at the scene of the crime.”

“It happened one time! No, twice. It was only those two ti-!”

Seungmin cuts in flatly. “He said you’re whipped for a girl you’re seeing.”

Everyone stops to stare at Minho. Even you turn your head to look at him, trying to gauge how he’ll respond to this. It makes you a little guilty, seeing that you’re part of the secret too, and yet he has to shoulder the lies by himself.

Well, technically, there hasn’t been any lying involved up until now. Just a simple withholding of the truth.

His face hardens for a brief moment, and you think he lets it show on purpose - his way of telling Hyunjin that he’s annoyed - because Minho can put on a flawless poker face when he wants to. There’s a couple of seconds where he clenches his jaw before he relaxes, the sharpness of his features softening as he shrugs off the accusation. “I am most certainly not whipped for anyone,” he says. “It’s just a casual thing.”

“If it’s just casual, why were you being so secretive about it, huh?” Hyunjin prods.

“I wasn’t being secretive. I just didn’t think it was anybody’s business,” Minho answers coolly.

“We’re your best friends! I tell you guys everything.”

“You sure do. Even things I’d rather not hear about.”

Jess and Changbin burst into light laughter, and you chuckle along with them but you don’t really find it that funny. You’re just trying to blend into the background, be a fly on the wall and observe how things unfold. Minho has assured you that there’s nothing for you to worry about, that there’s no way they could find out about the secret, but still.

Hyunjin groans exasperatedly. The nosiest drama queen you know. “Seriously, who’s the girl? I’m dying of curiosity here!”

“Drop it.” Minho glares at him.

“Just give me a hint! Is it someone we know?”

“You haven’t eaten tissues in a while, have you?”

“Try me. I’m not scared of you anymore.”

“Hyunjin, I swear to-”

“Okay!” Chan claps his hands together suddenly. “Let’s just all agree that we are all entitled to our privacy and people can share whatever they want with whoever they want when they’re comfortable, yeah?”

Everyone nods in agreement, except for Hyunjin who narrows his eyes petulantly at Minho as if to say This isn’t over. No one wants to poke a disgruntled tiger, let alone about something he seems so disinterested in sharing. Minho has always been a notoriously private person, even with the rest of the group.

Changbin shuffles a new topic into the mix to move things along, which you aren’t very keen on contributing to at the moment. When no one seems to be looking, Minho places a hand on your knee, rubbing it soothingly as if he can sense the unease that you’re feeling. It makes you glance at him, though neither of you says anything. You just look at each other for a moment, then turn back to the group when someone calls your name.

Two hours and three rum and coke’s later, you were coming down from a good high when someone suggested ditching Yeonjun’s party to go to a club.

Normally, you would say no. You could only do one social event at a time, needing to recharge your metaphorical battery before you let yourself be dragged into the next one.

But you decided to make an exception for tonight.

Though, you promptly realized that it was probably a mistake.

You prefer the loudness of Yeonjun’s party than here. It’s loud and crowded, since it’s a Saturday night, and since it’s a club. The air is sticky and stuffy. The lights are perpetually blinding and headache-inducing. You’re not even on the dancefloor; you’re just hovering near the entrance and the bar, and there’s still barely any room to move. People keep trying to shove you out of their way, even with Minho attempting to act as your human shield.

You let your displeasure be known through a deep frown.

Minho catches onto your chagrin almost immediately. “What’s wrong?” he asks, leaning close to your ear to make sure you hear him over the music.

“Too many people,” you try to raise your voice so the booming noises don’t drown you out. “Can we go somewhere over there?”

He turns around, taps on Chan’s shoulder to get his attention before gesturing vaguely to that spot near the back that you just pointed out to him, presumably to let the others know that you’ll be wandering over there.

He takes your hand and leads the way. In the back, it’s still loud but less deafening than before, and much less crowded compared to the areas surrounding the dance floor.

“Better?” he asks.

You lean against the wall though you probably shouldn’t. The ick is apparent, but at this point in the night, you yourself are already feeling pretty gross anyway.

“A little bit,” you say. “Thanks.”

“You wanna go home? We can leave if you want.”

“Without saying goodbye?”

“Did you know that people who leave parties without saying goodbye save two days a year? It’s been researched.”

You rephrase your words so Minho would understand better. “Without Hyunjin’s permission?”

“Hyunjin has been pissing me off plenty all week. I can play my card for you.”

“What card?”

“The ‘I don’t give a fuck’ card.”

You tilt your head, clearly amused. “And how does that usually work out for you?”

“I don’t care how it works out because Hyunjin is not gonna do anything to me.” He shrugs. “Besides, I can always just throw him in the airfryer when he gets too annoying.”

This makes you laugh, recalling the exact moment Minho brought up the legendary instructions on how to cook Hyunjin.

“How violent,” you comment with a snort.

“He deserves it.”

“You know you still have a soft spot for him,” you say.

“I have a soft spot for you,” he replies.

“Now look who’s trying to get laid.”

He grins. “Could you blame me?”

Some drunk girls stumble into your space on their way to the bathroom, bumping into you, pushing you into Minho’s body where he instinctively puts a hand on your back to keep you steady. You glance up at him after the girls have safely arrived at the bathroom, only to find him already staring down at you. His back is turned toward where the lights are coming from and the angle shrouds his face in darkness, but you can still make out the stars twinkling in his eyes.

The sudden lack of space between your bodies makes your breath hitch.

“Are you still drunk?” he asks.

“No. Not really.” You don’t like the way your voice comes out small, vulnerable.

“I…” he starts, hesitating for a moment before he continues. His eyes flicker to your lips, and the breath that was previously caught in your throat further thickens. “Fuck, I really want to kiss you right now.”

For some reason, your heart leaps to your throat. It’s probably because of the remnants of alcohol refusing to leave your system, because how else would you explain the way your pulse quickens just from hearing those words coming from him?

He bites his lip, similar to how Yeonjun did it just a few hours ago, but seeing Minho do it is at least a hundred times more enticing.

You want him to kiss you too. You really do.

“What if the others see?” you protest meekly, but you’re already staring at his mouth, finding yourself gravitating toward him like he’s got you hypnotized.

“We’re all the way back here,” he tells you. “They won’t see anything.”

He leans closer until his lips are brushing yours. With a hand on your hip and the other on the back of your head, he meets your mouth in a soft kiss, which is a stark contrast to the upbeat and booming music blasting all around you. Some guy drunkenly gives you two a sleazy whistle, the sound coming from somewhere on your right, but neither of you pays it any attention.

Your hands come to clutch at the collar of his shirt like a lifeline. He’s never kissed you outside of the comfort of your bedroom before, let alone amidst a sea of people like this. It feels strange to be intimate with him in public, but at the same time, it excites you. There’s still a sense of anonymity because you’re camouflaged by the lights, masked by the darkness, hiding in plain sight.

The kiss gets more heated. He guides you a step back until you’re all pressed up against the wall, your hands tangling in his hair, tugging on it the way he likes that makes him groan against your mouth. He sucks on your bottom lip before shoving his tongue into your mouth, the wet muscle dancing with yours, making your knees buckle. It’s dizzying. It makes your head spin, and you don’t know if it’s because there’s still enough residual alcohol in your system to knock your world off its axis, or if it’s just him.

The hand previously on your hips sneaks underneath your shirt to rub at your bare skin. He gropes your breasts over the bralette you chose to wear tonight, squeezing the soft flesh in his palm, all the while slotting one of his legs between yours to help you grind on him. Your clothed cunt rolls over the denim of his jeans, and even though the friction is coarse and your movements are limited in this crowded space, the pleasure still sets your entire body alight. Minho spreads all over you like wildfire, and Minho consumes you like a hurricane.

You moan into his mouth when he rolls your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, over the flimsy material of your undergarment. “Min,” you whimper desperately. You don’t know if he can hear you over the obnoxiously loud sounds coming from the speakers littered all over the place, but he groans against your mouth regardless. Almost like the nickname is driving him crazy.

He pulls back just slightly, to let the both of you catch your breath. “Should we go back to yours?” he asks, eyes still focused on your mouth.

You nod eagerly. You know you must be wet as hell right now, and if you have to wait any longer, you will probably explode from frustration. You might just drag him into that disgusting bathroom over there and let him have his way with you, but you will definitely regret it afterward because it’s a bathroom in a nightclub. It’s beyond revolting.

He helps you smooth out your hair, gentle and tender. In turn, you wipe your lipstick smudges on his face. Instead of taking you by the hand like he did earlier, he wraps an arm around your shoulder and navigates the two of you through the crowd, shielding you from anyone who might bump into you. You lean into the touch; it’s just comforting.

As you make your way back to the group - or what’s left of the group at the moment - his hand drops to his side again. There’s an inkling of disappointment that blossoms in you, but it dissipates quickly when Hyunjin spots you and lights up. Him and Seungmin are at the bar, seemingly trying to get the bartender’s attention. Changbin is next to them, but he doesn’t seem to care about anything other than the girl he’s chatting with. You try to scan the crowd for Chan and Jess, and find them a couple minutes later, standing in a corner, pressed up against each other just like you and Minho moments ago.

“Where did you run off to?” Hyunjin asks. Clearly Chan was too preoccupied with his girlfriend to relay the information.

“It’s too loud in here, I was getting a headache,” you say, only half a lie. You know your face must still be flushed from your impromptu makeout session, but you hope your friend can’t see the rosy shade painting your skin under all the flashing lights. “Min and I just went back there to see if it was quieter.”

“Okay.” He seems to believe you. “We’re trying to get drinks! You want anything?”

“I think I’m gonna just go home. You guys stay and have fun though.”

Hyunjin looks at you like he’s so flabbergasted. “It’s not even 3AM yet!”

“Headache,” you say, pointing to your temple with an exaggeratedly pained expression on your face. “I’ll stay out all night with you next time.”

“But-!” The second he opens his mouth to protest, Minho cuts in sharply, his tone leaving no room for anyone to argue despite the gigantic pout on Hyunjin’s face.

“I’m gonna take her home and call it a night too,” he simply says.

Hyunjin groans, but he relents in the end, muttering to you something that sounds like “You owe me one,” when you go to hug him goodbye. Before you and Minho can reach the door, you hear your man child of a friend call after you two in his pterodactyl voice, “Don’t make Minho’s girl jealous!”

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joelalorian · 1 month

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Fall Into Me - Chapter Five: My Whole World Came Alive

dbf!Joel x f!reader

Summary: Joel is hanging on by a thread as a single father to a tenacious 10-year-old Sarah. Feeling like he's drowning, like the world is about to spit him out, he needs some help before he breaks in half. At your dad's insistence, you show up in his life and change everything.

Story is inspired by the song Fall Into Me by Forest Blakk. Chapter titles will be lyrics from the song.

Word Count: 2.9k

Chapter Warnings: Mature, under 18 take a hike. No outbreak AU. Lots of feelings, confusion, and self doubt. Two idiots falling and pining for each other, and finally some progress. Tommy keeps it real. Age gap of about 9 years (Reader 24/25, Joel 33/34). No use of y/n. Reader has a nickname used only by her dad. Emily is modeled after my sister and JB is based on my dad, who used to try setting me up with his younger work buddies when I was in my 20s :)

Dividers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics

Thank you all for reading! Comments and reblogs make me weep with gratefulness.

Some of the tags aren't working in the taglist - if you're not getting the notifications, please check your settings to make sure you are taggable. Thx!

Chapter Four | Main Masterlist

Sitting in Phil’s Icehouse with juicy burgers and drinks – you insisted Joel try a mimosa – conversation flowed between the two of you. Joel found his lips twitching into a smile at nearly every word that came out of your mouth. He was fascinated with the stories you shared of your college years, and he listened, completely enraptured, to your plans for the future. Every bit of your lunch together felt like a date. He wondered if you felt the same, yet he couldn’t find the courage to ask outright.

“Yeah, so, I have a meeting at Sarah’s school this week for a possible position. Remember that interview I mentioned a few weeks back? It went really well and now they want me to meet with the teacher who’s retiring and the principal,” you explained, sipping at your mimosa. “I’m pretty excited.”

Joel’s eyes lit up. He’d forgotten that you were looking at a position at Sarah’s school. “Wow, that’s great, darlin’. This would be for a science teacher position, right?”

“Yep. Middle grade science.” The beaming smile you flashed him nearly blinded Joel. “Wanna know the best part? If I get this job, I’ll have the same hours as Sarah, give or take a bit, so I can continue with the school drop-off and pickup for you. She might have to stay later with me somedays, but it’ll still work.”

Nodding, Joel’s mind was flashing lightyears forward, picturing you calling his house home and taking Sarah to school with you, coming home to have dinner together, watching TV in the evenings. Heart thudding in his chest at just the thought of you living together, Joel shook himself. He had to slow his mind down, put the brakes on those kinds of thoughts until after you were actually dating him, at least.

“You could be Sarah’s science teacher in a few years, huh?” Joel asked, focusing once again on listening to you instead of drifting off into daydreams.

“Could be, yeah,” you laughed. “I imagine she’d be my favorite student.”

He beamed at that. Conversation shifted to other things and soon your meals were finished.

“We should do this again,” you said, glassy eyes meeting his across the table, lips curved in a gentle smile. “I really enjoyed spending time with you, Joel.”

Fighting the urge to grab your hand and entangle your fingers, Joel smiled back. “Yeah, me too.” He wanted to kick himself for not saying more, for not asking you out for a real date. He just couldn’t find his words.

How was it that you made him so nervous?

Joel spent the next week in some kind of weird liminal space between a dream and reality, between agonizing confusion and utter happiness. Lunch with you on Sunday felt like a date – he asked you with the intention of it being a date, even if you didn’t know that yet. He spent the week thinking about that lunch, how you teased each other, laughed, shared stories of your past. How your gazes locked for longer than necessary, touches lingered, the smiles never fell from your faces.

It was wonderful, yet nothing was said of what it all meant – which was his fault, probably. Hence the roller coaster of feelings throughout the week.

He could tell you felt it, too. Doing as Tommy suggested, he started paying close attention to how you acted around him, how you looked at him when you thought he wasn’t looking. It was all starting to come together. He could finally see what Tommy was talking about.

You liked him. You really liked him, Joel Miller, overworked single father.

It was a wonderful feeling, knowing that someone liked him. It’d been way too long since he felt that way, that spark of hope for something more.

For the first time in a long time, he slept well the night before and woke early, eager to face the day and see you before heading off to work. He was already out front, filling a birdfeeder Sarah asked for, when you arrived.

“Good mornin’, darlin’,” he greeted, pulling the car door open for you once you parked in the driveway. His heart skipped a beat at the way you smiled up at him, taking his hand to help you out of the car. Your touch electric on his roughened palm.

“Hiya, Joel.” Your voice washed over him, warm as honey and twice as sweet. “Whatcha doing out here?’

Gesturing to the red barn-style feeder Sarah picked, he finished filling it with the wild bird seed the clerk insisted birds loved. “Just fillin’ our new birdfeeder.”

“Oh, what a cute feeder!” You admired the intricate features as it hung from the post Joel installed. “Sarah has been talking nonstop about birds this week. Hopefully we’ll see some good ones.”

“Hope so,” Joel hummed in return. “Don’t know much about birds personally, but I’m sure Sarah’ll teach me.” Your smile brightened at his sheepish grin.

“I have a bird guide I could give her to help identify all the different types that visit the feeder.” Your face lit up with excitement. “I even have binoculars from when I took an ornithology class in undergrad. I’ll bring them when I pick up Sarah this afternoon.”

“Orna what now?” Joel questioned. He had no idea what kind of class you were talking about, but he loved how smart you were.

“Ornithology,” you repeated, drawing out each syllable with a soft giggle. “It’s the study of birds. It was a really cool class. We had field trips around campus once a week to go bird watching. I got pretty good at naming the different species that we saw, but it’s been a while.”

In awe of you, Joel’s eyes crinkled with the strength of his grin. “Would you, uh, maybe want to go on an adventure with us tomorrow?” he asked, stumbling a bit over his words, a nervous energy welling up in his gut as he once again sort of asked you out. “We could go for a hike in the county park, and you could teach us about birds.”

You gazed at him, lips pursed in thought, for long enough that Joel began to fidget, brimming with recurring doubt. Did he misinterpret the signs after all? He wouldn’t be surprised. He wasn’t any good at this stuff anymore. You responded before he could spiral back into the land of self-doubt. “That sounds great, Joel. I’d love to.”

A visceral relief washed through him. “It’s a date then,” he said, his voice deep and rough while his dark chocolate eyes locked with yours. A satisfied smirk graced his lips as your eyebrows rose in surprise. Too quickly, doubt clouded your pretty eyes, and you laughed it off like he was teasing you. Joel sighed. He would be more direct next time. He’d get the hang of asking a woman on a date again someday. Hopefully.

“We’ll have to go early, is that okay? Birds are more active in the early morning hours,” you explained, heading for the door to find Sarah.

“That’s fine. We’ll make a day of it, grab lunch somewhere when we’re done.” Joel followed you into the house, already plotting out conversations in his head on how to properly ask you on a date.

The rest of the day went by in a blur for Joel and before he knew it, the job was finished, and it was only mid-afternoon when he arrived home. You pulled into the driveway with Sarah shortly after him and he came down from taking a shower to find the pair of you on the living room floor playing a racing video game.

“Hi Daddy!” Sarah exclaimed as he kissed the top of her head and took a seat on the couch. It didn’t take long before Sarah asked him to play as well and the three of you were taking turns racing against each other, laughing when one of you crashed.

There were moments, when your gaze would connect with Joel’s and he’d swear you shared the same thought – this was how it could be if you were together, a family.

“Do you want to stay for pizza? Tommy and your dad are coming over,” Joel asked when Sarah’s attention focused elsewhere.

“We have an early morning ahead of us, Miller. Don’t be up late partying with the guys,” you replied with a smile that reached your twinkling eyes. “I’ll stay for a bit, but then I need to go dig out the old binoculars and get my beauty sleep.”

“You’re already beautiful,” he murmured, watching your eyes widen as you smile demurely.

“You say the sweetest things, Joel.” Your voice held a teasing tone that drove Joel nuts. How was he ever going to convince you that he was serious?

Shortly thereafter, Tommy arrived, pizza and beer in hand. “Come on, Millers! I come bearing gifts. JB here yet?”

“I’m right here, ya troglodyte,” your dad called from the front yard, stepping up the porch steps as Tommy whirled around.

“What the hell did you just call me?”

“A troglodyte. Learned it from Spud and thought it fitting since you don’t close doors behind you.” He winked at you as he teased the younger Miller brother. Placing a kiss on your cheek, he added, “Hey Spud, haven’t seen you in a bit. Must be working too hard. Miller! You workin’ my daughter too hard?”

Joel spluttered. He was too busy gazing at you to pay much attention to JB and feared he got busted. “I hardly think so,” he grumbled, fighting the blush he knew rose to his cheeks.

“Ah, in the same ol’ grumpy mood, I see. Maybe this’ll help.” Your dad placed a 12-pack of Joel’s favorite beer on the coffee table before taking a seat in the recliner he always chose at Joel’s place.

The five of you sat around the living room, eating pizza with beer for the men and sodas for you and Sarah. The conversation revolved mainly around construction work, and you ended up taking your leave before the sun dipped below the horizon. Your dad followed not long after, eager to relax in his own well-worn recliner.

“Alright, nugget. It’s time for bed. We have an early morning tomorrow,” Joel said, swinging the young girl over his shoulder much to her delight. “Say goodnight to Uncle Tommy.”

“G’night Uncle Tommy,” Sarah squealed as Joel tickled her sides.

“G’night nugget.”

Always a good kid, Sarah went right to bed after brushing her teeth, but not before pestering Joel about why they had to get up early on a Saturday. Pressing a loving kiss to her forehead, Joel tucked her in. “We’re going on a surprise adventure. Now, to sleep with you.”

Returning to the living room, Tommy handed him another beer as the brothers watched Sportscenter. “Have you made any progress yet?” Tommy asked.

Matching dark eyes met as Joel shrugged. He knew his brother was talking about you. “Some, I guess. Told ya I took her to lunch on Sunday and that felt a lot like a date. I asked her to go on a hike with me and Sarah tomorrow. I told her it was a date after she agreed, but she thought I was jokin’.” He paused, taking a long pull from the bottle of beer. “Then, this afternoon, I told her she was beautiful and again she thought I was teasing.”

Swirling the bottle of beer in his hand, Tommy shook his head and chuckled. “She’s givin’ you a run for your money, brother. Good on her.”

“Good on her,” Joel mocked, but his tone quickly turned to pleading. “I need more advice. Surely you got something up your sleeve for women like her.”

“Nah, brother. The only way to get someone like her is to be yourself and keep chipping away. It’s clear she has as much self-doubt as you do, so it’ll take her time to believe you’re for real.” Tommy eyed his brother a moment as he mulled over the situation. “Though, I will say this. You need to start bein’ direct – come right out and ask her on a date, for fuck’s sake. Enough hinting at shit. It’s clearly gettin’ you nowhere.”

You arrived on the Millers’ doorstep bright and early the next morning, two travel mugs of coffee and a container of chocolate milk in hand. A pair of binoculars and Sibley’s Guide to Birds were tucked away in the bag you wore over your shoulder.

“Wakey, wakey, Millers! The early bird gets the worm!”

Joel and Sarah were perched at the breakfast bar when you let yourself in, both looking half awake and less than enthusiastic about being up so early on a Saturday.

“Too damn cheerful for this early,” Joel grumbled half-heartedly. His pitiful smile looked more like a grimace, yet you found it adorable. It made you ache to run your fingers through his hair until you drew a real smile from his lips.

“Don’t gimme that. This was your idea, Joel Miller!” you sassed in return, patting his broad shoulders. “Let’s go!”

Herding cats, that was the perfect analogy to describe the next fifteen minutes as you tried to get the Millers moving and into Joel’s truck. Just when you’d get one heading for the door, the other would disappear. Finally, you managed to wrangle them both into the truck and you were well on your way to the preserve. The ride didn’t take long, Sarah peppering you with questions about birds she found in your guidebook as Joel drove. By the time Joel pulled into a parking spot at the entrance to the trails, everyone was wide awake and ready to hike.

The morning was crisp and refreshing as you zipped up your jacket and looked around. You’d never been to this preserve before and wanted to find a trail map, but the mini-Miller was too anxious to wait for that.

“I can hear the birds chirping already, Daddy! Come on!” Sarah exclaimed, charging toward the first trail excitedly.

Joel beamed as Sarah took off, turning to you before following her. “Ready?” He reached out a hand, palm up and fingers splayed, inviting you to grasp it.

Your eyes trailed from his outstretched hand to his heavy gaze, uncertain of what to make of the signals Joel gave off. The feelings you harbored for the man grew stronger each day, yet you couldn’t quite get a read on whether he shared even a fraction of those feelings. Somedays, you thought he did. Yet others, you figured he thought you had a crush on him and found amusing. Your heart sunk on those days, causing the doubt to linger every time he did something to make you think otherwise.

The moment carried on too long, you realized, as Joel’s warm eyes began to shutter, the tender smile starting to slip. Bolstering your nerves, you plunged ahead and grasped his large hand in yours, tangling your fingers with his thicker ones. His hand was warm, skin roughened from years of working with his hands, and it felt wonderful against your smoother skin.

Heat flashed up your chest and neck as Joel led you down the trail to catch up with Sarah. A broad smile never left your lips as you walked.

“I meant it, you know,” Joel’s deep, gruff voice rumbled from deep in his chest and you glanced up to meet his gaze. “What I said yesterday, about this being a date. If that’s something you’re interested in.”

Heart thumping wildly, your mouth opened and closed a few times before you found your words. “Are you sure? I mean, yes. Yes, I’m interested.” You winced at how flustered you sounded, tripping over your words. And, worse yet, why was your voice so squeaky?

“Never been surer in my life,” Joel confirmed, his gaze searing your skin as he watched you, taking in every minute change in expression. His hand squeezed yours gently, steadying the butterflies in your stomach.

“I would really like that,” you replied breathlessly, relieved to finally have confirmation that the moments between you and Joel weren’t all in your head. You were on Cloud 9 until reality smacked you in the face. “But what about my dad?”

Sarah popped around a copse of live oaks, startling you both from. “Come on, you slow pokes! The birdies aren’t gonna wait all day for us to find them!” Not trusting you both to follow her on your own, the little girl latched on to your hand and pulled you along the trail. “You need to help me find the birds,” Sarah reminded you.

Joel’s hand still clasped in yours, you dragged him behind you, grinning over your shoulder at him. “I’m liking this date already, Joel.”

He beamed back at you. The three of you walked in silence for a bit, listening to the sounds of nature around you. When you spotted a bird blind, you handed Sarah the binoculars and the guidebook, challenging her to identify as many birds as she could from that spot. Joel stood next to you, watching Sarah enjoy the activity.

“Let’s see where this goes first before we worry about your dad,” he murmured. “I’d like to take you on a few dates first, okay?”

It made sense and you nodded, pleased at the way things were working out. Your hand remained in Joel’s throughout the birding adventure and though Sarah never mentioned it, her smile grew wide at the sight.

tbc

p.s. we should start building up to the good stuff in the next chapter.

Taglist: @mellymbee @untamedheart81 @anoverwhelmingdin @runningmom94 @leilanixx @pedropascalfan221 @lovelyjess69 @sarahhxx03 @sofiparallel @tammythr @lulawantmula @islacharlotte @allyourfavesinoneblog @lover-of-books-and-tea @pedropascalsbbg @ashleyfilm @brittmb115 @lilmizmoz @loveisacowboyyy @shotgun-shelby @deninoe @casssiopeia @caitlynsixxx

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel x female reader #the last of us #tlou #dbf!joel #Fall Into Me #pedro pascal #eventual smut #mutual pining #idiots falling for each other

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abbyromanoff · 1 year

Note

G!p Mommy Wanda pleaseeee

Here To Help

Pairings: g!p Wanda Maximoff x reader

Word count: 1933

Had to skip a few requests to get to this one as I’ve been wanting to write this for days now, so, I apologize!!

Warnings: mommy kink, little reader, somnophillia, fingering, jerking off, hand jobs, innocence kink, mentions of slapping

Summary: Wanda couldn’t help herself seeing your helpless form all ready for her.

No one is permitted to steal, copy, or reblog my work as their own!!

The moment you mentioned to your girlfriend that you’ve never been camping, she made it her mission to fix that. She planned out everything, where you’d go, the food situation, renting a lodge, anything you could ever want in a trip. She didn’t tell you, she waited till the last minute to inform you that you’d be taking a little trip with her. The day before, you wondered where all your stuff had gone. But Wanda secretly stuffed it into your bag and put it in the trunk of her car. When you woke up to being carried over Wanda’s shoulder in the middle of the night, you were confused but didn’t say anything.

After a few hours of a drive, you both arrived at your destination and Wanda took a moment to admire your peaceful state before waking you up. You were almost immediately greeted by the harsh sun and a wooden cabin, turning to look at your girlfriend, you gave her an odd look that she chuckled at before bringing you inside.

“Mommy, where are we?” Came your small, fragile voice. Wanda’s heart melted hearing the pure innocence in your tone, she could listen to you speak for hours.

“Well, I know you’ve never been camping, so, I thought, why not take my favorite girl out on a trip? Just me, you, and the wilderness.” You leaned back to look at her, a smile growing on your face.

“Oh thank you, thank you, thank you! I’m so excited! Oh, can we go fishing? Or catch frogs? Did you bring our board games? We could play those and-” You continued your rambling as Wanda chuckled and set you down, you looked over the cabin and ran around each room at least five times.

“So, what do you think?”

“I love it, mommy! It’s perfect!” Your body plopped down on the couch in the living room, feeling the cozy blankets fall on top of you. Wanda took a quick look around the place, making sure everything was alright for her little one. She promised to make this the best trip of your life, she wasn’t going to break that.

“Well, I think the first step in this place is to cook something. I know you don’t like the whole hunting aspect so, I bought us some fruits and pre-cooked food to make. And, I may or may not have snuck in a little dessert that we could make if you’re good.” She trailed on, watching the happiness in your expression.

“Yay! Thank you, mommy, this is already the best trip ever!” She walked you both over to the kitchen, well, she followed behind you as you ran to the room.

“Slow down there speedy, don’t need you tripping over yourself.” You mumbled out a small apology and grabbed the food from the bag, which she soon set you aside to do herself.

The rest of the night was spent with laughter, treats, and your adorable rambles about nature. Wanda wouldn’t trade it for the world. And now, she was helping you get ready for bed. She brushed your teeth, did your skincare, and dressed you up in your cute pajamas. You wore a tank top looking shirt with little bears on it, your shorts matching. She bought them specifically for this day.

“Alright my little bear, time to get you to sleep.” She handed you your stuffed animal and laid beside you, puffing up the pillows behind her. You whined lowly and looked at her with pleading eyes, ones you knew she could never resist.

“Please mommy! I don’t want to go to bed, I want to play.” Your pout was adorable, it had to be Wanda’s favorite thing about you. But she had to deny, she couldn’t have her little one all sleepy during the trip.

“Sweetheart, if you want to play, you need to sleep. I promise, tomorrow will be so much fun! I’ll even teach you how to fish, but only if you’re good and go to sleep.” She bargained, making it impossible for you to say no to her.

“Fine, but only because I want to catch fishies!” You giggled, cuddling your build a bear closer.

“Alright baby, lets go nighty night. I’ll wake you up extra early just so we can watch that beautiful sunrise.”

“Goodnight mommy, I love you.” Your body leaned into hers and your head landed on her chest, using her boobs as a pillow.

“I love you more, my sweet little angel.” And with that, you both fell into a peaceful sleep. Well, for her at least. You were in dream world, a very interesting dream you could say.

“Mommy! Feels so good!” You whimpered out as she pounded into you mercilessly, not letting you mutter out a sentence without moaning in between each word.

“Yeah? You like my dick filling up this tiny little cunt? Oh I bet you do, I bet you fucking love it. You know why?” She panted, trying her best to keep up the hard and fast pace. Her hand landed across your ass, creating a loud cracking sound that mixed in with your thighs slapping together.

“I asked you a question, baby, I expect an answer.”

“W-why mommy?” She chuckled darkly and leaned towards your ear, taking the lobe in her mouth before speaking.

“Because you’re my dirty little whore, you just love to be used by mommy, don’t you? You love being her sex doll? Her pet?” You nodded desperately, already feeling your orgasm approaching for the third time this night.

“Yes mommy! I love it! Love being your toy, your cockslut.” She could feel you clenching around her, the desire to breed you plaguing her mind.

“I can tell you need to cum, fucking do it. Cum with me baby, let me fill this hole till you’re dripping.” She grunted, pre-cum already dripping into you.

Wanda was awoken by soft movements near her thigh, when she looked down, she was greeted with the sight of ler little one humping her leg. Your soft moans filled her ears as she watched in amazement for a moment. Her arms trailed down to your body, twisting your nipples ever so gently through the fabric of your shirt. Her other hand curiously made its way down to your soaked shorts, your arousal making a dark wet spot on the thin clothing.

“Oh Y/N, so needy for mommy even in your sleep. It’s alright, I’ll take care of you.” She didn’t care if you couldn’t hear her, she still treated you like her baby. Her dick grew hard just at the thought of your dreams, she knew she shouldn’t, but she needed to see what you were thinking about.

Her small gasp echoed throughout the room, she couldn’t believe your innocent self would be dreaming about that. She always showed you care in the bedroom, she never thought that you might actually like being tossed around a bit.

“Oh my, you’re getting mommy all hard from that little brain of yours. And you’ve made such a mess! You’ve practically ruined your shorts, the ones mommy picked out just for you.” She fauxed concern and made her way down the bed, spreading your legs just enough to pull down your undergarments.

“Shit, you’re even wetter than I thought. You really are a slut, aren’t you? My little slut.” Her tongue made it’s way to your dripping folds, moaning as the taste of your sopping cunt. She needed more of you, she needed to feel you clench around her mouth as she licked up all of your juices. She dove back in, making sure to lick every inch of you.

“Fuck baby, you taste amazing! Wish I could eat you out every second.” Your body moved slightly, your eyes starting to flutter open.

“Mommy?” Came your small, groggy voice, clearly still being tired as you slipped in and out of sleep.

“Shh, my love, it’s all just a dream. Go back to sleep, I’ll be right here when you wake up.” You gave a short nod and did as she said, falling back asleep with little to no effort. She laughed quietly and removed her own clothing, stroking her hard dick. Her palm went under your shirt, playing with your nipples teasingly. She pinched the swollen buds, picturing it was her mouth on them instead. She lifted the article of clothing just above your tits, moving to take one in her mouth just like she wanted. Her hand continued her motions on her throbbing length, feeling the coil in her stomach tightening.

“Mm, wanna cum all over this cute body. So dumb, such a dumb baby, can’t even register mommy fucking you. I bet if I slapped this precious face, you’d wake up, I know you’d want that.” She muttered, not talking to anyone in particular but fueling her needs. When she heard you whine in your sleep, it only brought her closer.

“Yeah, that’s it, moan for me, you bitch. I know you want this, you love the thought of me whoring you out, making you my precious toy.” Her hands sped up, her mouth moving from your puffy nipple to the neglected one, sucking as if milk would come out. Cum spurted out of her length as it twitched so deliciously in her palm, coating your pussy. Her hips stilled, her eyes screwing shut.

When she looked down, she admired your dripping pussy covered in her release. She used her digits to slowly finger the cum inside of you, your hips jerking up in your sleep.

“M-mommy? What are you doing?” She didn’t take her eyes off of your cunt, being too engrossed in your body.

“Shh, you were just having a wet dream, I had to take care of you. You understand, right? Just had to make my baby feel better.”

“But, it’s all tingly down there. It feels weird, mommy. I-It feels weird in a good way.” She smiled down at you and moved to sit next to you, giving a little pat to your stuffie that you picked back up. You looked down and saw your shirt had ridden up, you quickly and embarrassingly pulled it back down.

“Oh that’s alright sweetheart, I’m here to take care of you. I can’t leave my baby all tingly without any help, now can I? Now, sit back and let me lead the way, just do whatever mommy asks of you.” You nodded and spread your legs slightly, shyly moving your hand to her cock.

“Can I play with you too, mommy?” She could’ve came on the spot hearing your sweet and soft voice, the words you muttered with it making it even harder not to destroy you right then and there.

“Of course you can, baby. Remember that time I taught you how to please mommy? Do exactly that while I play with your little cunt, just sit there all pretty and let me touch you.” You did exactly what she asked, smiling when you heard her moan.

“Like that?”

“Yes! Just like that, you’re doing amazing, my love. Now let me finger this sweet little thing, I know you want it. Or did you want me to fuck you with my dick like in your dream? You want me to destroy you for anyone else?” Your eyes widened hearing the last sentence, how did she know?

“Don’t give me that look. When I woke up to you humping my thigh, I just had to help. What kind of mommy would I be if I didn’t help my angel?”

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bucky-barnes-diaries · 2 years

Note

how about stepdad!bucky absolutely defiling reader into a perfect sex object for him? please and thank you!

Just A Toy, Just An Object

Pairing || Stepdad!Bucky x Stepdaughter!Reader

Word Count || 528

Contents & Warnings || Smut — NSFW, 18+ Only, Minors DNI, non-con, explicit content/language, major age-gap (reader is early/mid 20’s, Bucky is early/mid 40’s), unprotected and rough sex, daddy/stepdaddy kink, size kink, dumbification, degrading, tummy bulge, multiple orgasms, no orgasms for reader, creampie, mention of bodily fluids.

Authors Note || FUCK YES! Hmmm… imagine just being a dumb little toy for your stepdaddy! This is not 100% perfect but my GOD is it HOT ;P

I had to remove the original photo I used because Tumblr flagged it :( ugh it was so yummy! Damn you Tumblr! It wasn’t even that explicit! But you can see the image HERE

Stepdad!Bucky Masterlist

Whenever your stepdad Bucky needed some relief, he came to you—his innocent stepdaughter. He had molded you into the ideal little toy, his perfect object to use for his own needs and pleasure.

That’s how you were now, spread out on your mattress as he fucked you raw and stupid for hours. He held your waist in a firm grip as he absolutely railed you into oblivion—fucking you like you meant nothing to him.

The drag of his length through your velvet walls had drool seeping from each side of your mouth as your eyes crossed. You slipped into a state where his swelling cock and heavy balls were the only things on your mind.

The bed squeaked with every forceful and abusive thrust he delivered to your little used and quivering pussy—slipping out till his tip was inside and then ramming his throbbing cock right back in, stretching you out to the limit. His cock bulged underneath your lower stomach each time he reached deep inside while your tits bounced with each force of his strong hips—his eyes became completely enticed by your submissive body.

You’d lost count of how many times he’d fill you up with his cum, but it was endless. He only cared about himself right now. Whenever you begged and pleaded for some relief, an orgasm or two, he reminded you what you were and meant to him.

“Baby girl, objects don’t have feelings. Objects don’t have needs and desires. And that’s what you are right now, you dumb fucking whore; an object. An object to be used and played with. A set of holes to be fucked and stuffed. Nothing more.”

His degrading words had your pussy flutter. “Oh, daddy,” you sweetly mewled, having him groan out at how innocent and pure you looked underneath him as he absolutely destroyed you.

“Look at that. Such a tiny pussy. Barely able to fit me, but taking me so well nonetheless. Tell me how grateful you are for your daddy filling you up, baby girl. Tell me what you are.”

“I’m just a little toy that belongs on your cock. Thank you, thank you, thank you, daddy,” you cry between each forceful jerk of his hips, “I’m grateful for every fucking thrust you put in me.”

He gave you one last particular hard thrust before he pulled out and wrapped his hand around his shaft, jerking himself till completion and degrading you with his seed.

The cum he spent all day pumping into you trickled out of your used, and quivering pussy as ropes of his new cum painted you all over—body and face.

The loss of him had your walls pulsating around nothing as your hole, even though used and sensitive, begged to be stuffed and abused once more by him.

His hand wrapped around your throat as he guided his red and swollen cock into your bruised and overstimulated pussy once more, making you cry out and beg no more.

“Come on, baby. One more time. One more time for your daddy. I can’t stop using your little pussy.”

He’s been saying the same sentence now for the last five times already…

Thank you for reading 🖤 Feedback through a comment is highly appreciated! Or let me know through an anonymous ask if that feels more comfortable. As well as a reblog to share my work with other people!

If people want to send some more thots please feel free to do so 👀 Maybe some of them will inspire me to write or include them in a longer fic! If not I will write something very short and quick or give you my opinion on the topic 🖤

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belokhvostikova · 10 months

Text

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤: 𝐂𝐥𝐮𝐛 𝐏𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 | Tuesday was the development between you and Eddie Munson. Wednesday, peace finally seems plausible for the two hurt kids, and understanding becomes a valued aspect.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Swearing, yelling, crying, implications to verbal abuse, self deprecating thought, mentions of anxiety, bulling, parent abandonment, domestic abuse, and childhood abuse and neglect.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | I've gone back to all my posts and tagged everyone for the tag list. Literally. If you commented, I tagged you. If you reblogged and remotely mentioned you wanted more, I tagged you. If you were not looking to be tagged, please let me know so I can remove you. Also, I sincerely apologize to anyone who I've accidently been excluding from the tag list, that was my mistake.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 | One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐕. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐲

There was no investment in moral quandary for him. Logicality. Everything had to be logical under the guise that all faults of the world had been facilitated by the emission of emotions that tainted the globe.

Feelings were wrong. Sentiment was wrong. Empathy was wrong.

He believed it was such vulnerability that led to the downfall of his life- not that he’d ever verbally admit his life had crumbled right in front of him, but a pit within the deepest tunnel of his consciousness recognized it. Drilled it. Cemented it. He had chosen to blame the emotions of amenability for the reason why his wife came home at four in the morning with the familiar scent of the neighbor’s cologne. From there, he knew to get rid of it. Emotions. So when you sobbed, asking why mommy hadn’t been home for a couple of days, he said it was not worth crying over. When you had to stand in court upon a scary looking man in a robe and hear mommy agree to only seeing you every other weekend, he said to not worry and suck it up. And when mommy stopped picking up calls and seemingly “forgot” it was her day to see you, he said to get over it. But maybe it wasn’t too bad, right? He always said to be grateful that, at least, he stuck around. At the minimum, he always provided good take-out often, though you were quick to realize it was because he had no desire to cook for you. But, hey, he had always let you watch TV during dinner. Granted, it was because he never sat with you, and chose the comfort of the living room couch, where you could always see the history channel playing from the archway of the dining room where you sat lonely. It was then, you got a deep understanding of the Civil War. And at least his stoicism permitted a great hatred for the presuppositionalism that had infiltrated Hawkins, Indiana. That was good, right? Though, you were never one to define metaethics through divine revelation, so it kinda didn’t matter. But it could be worse. He always said he could be worse. That his choice to deprive you from any physical harm was somehow enough to garner him some merit as a parent.

And maybe that was one of the underlying reasons as to why Eddie Munson scared you so much. He was like your father. And your father scared you.

Mid week. The morning of spring Wednesday had been a groggily dawn of humidity and fog. Though no weather circumstance could derail the perfected routine of your father’s morning. Wake up, shower, brush teeth, make coffee. Black, no sugar. The bitterer, the better. Because that was by true definition strong.

It was like clockwork. Every morning. Because routine leads to success, he's ingrained. It was the only reason why every summer break since you were a child he had you waking up before sunrise with intentions of appearing downstairs for two hours of study time with a tutor he spent hours meticulously searching for that fit his standards. One with saggy cheeks, thin eyebrows, a thick accent, and a bad habit of reprimanding you with a smack of a ruler whenever you humanly made a mistake. The worst thing that could happen in his eyes was watching his daughter slack because of relaxation over summer. Especially after he programmed you into perfection.

But the unthinkable had occurred, and his routine was interrupted.

Between 6:30 a.m and 6:45 a.m, your father was set—like everyday—to retrieve the morning paper, sit down, set the timer, and complete the crossword puzzle. Ten minutes. Nothing more.

But by 6:33 a.m, Eddie Munson was nearly murdered by your father.

Oh, his girl. Of course, there was his sweetheart, Eddie was damn near devoted to that warlock, but then there was his girl. Definitely not the everloving relationship he had with his sweetheart, I mean, he touched her, and the harmonious sounds from her strings could elevate the pain of his mind, but there was still no doubt that a sentimental part of his heart was dedicated to his girl. Rusted and cranking, the old van had been gifted to the young man after countless hours committed to Harry’s Auto Shop over the summer. And though her imperfections nearly had him pulling the roots of his hair out of his head weekly, she still managed to get him from point A to point B—not to mention, she looked totally sick and provided the best comfort place to spark up a joint or spend time with a pretty boy or girl whenever the opportunity came (it never did).

But besides that, the moral of the story is his van, his girl, was deeply cared for.

Except for the occasions of last night.

Because right now, your father was wrinkling the informative pages of the daily news with a tight grip of pure seethe, because some dirty, gross van had parked over the curb of his property and ruined the pristine, clean-cut, green lawn with muddy tire tracks.

You had heard it all.

The blaring alarm at 5:45 a.m, the running shower from your father’s bathroom, and the heavy steps of his feet descend into the kitchen.

Exhaustion couldn’t fathom the ache of your body, as the fluffy duvet beneath you held no substance to the stiffening floor underneath. Not to mention, the heavy sorrow of the events that had only occurred a couple hours prior were relying heavy in your mind, prompting the loss of true sleep, made only worse when Eddie’s drunken snores were echoing as a constant reminder that he was right there.

Eddie Munson was in your bed- Eddie Munson was in your bed!

The ever so slight glimmer of the awakening sun was bleeding upon his sleeping figure, almost dead with no movement. He hadn’t shifted an arm or a leg, mouth still agape from his roaring slumber with a puddle of drool staining your satin pillow. You’d timidly approached the edge of your bed, knees scraping along the rough floor to reach his peaceful face. The disheveled bangs of his forehead had crumpled against themselves, shielding him from the oozing light through your window.

This was the calmest Eddie Munson had been in weeks.

No lumps in the mattress, an actual comforter, the pungent stank of his cigarettes now replaced with the captivating vanilla scent of your perfume, which eased him into a comfortable sleep and an all too real dream where you were in his arms. It felt scaringly natural.

There was a part of you that didn’t want to wake him. Whether it was because you could take an hour studying his pretty face, which led you to wondering how anyone could even fathom being so nasty to something so beautiful, or whether it was because that childhood anger and nestling vexation against a world that hated him was still deeply residing within Eddie, and you could easily fall victim to such hatred. It happened before, it could happen again.

You rested your head against your bed, a slight alleviation to the malaise of the floor, and let his warm breathing fan across your face. The tips of your fingers benevolently stroked the unruly strands of his bangs away, to reveal the fluttering eyes of his face. You wondered what he could be dreaming of.

You.

You were all he could think of. Awake and asleep.

“Eddie.” You softly whispered. In hindsight, it probably wasn’t the best choice given his hangover coma, but Eddie needed gentleness. “Hey, wake up.” You shook his shoulder. A pained groan prolonged far longer than you expected, as his face scrunched in a wince of a pounding headache. “Are you okay?”

That was too real for any dream. Eddie’s dry eyes snapped at the sound of your saccharine voice, suddenly realizing the devastating events that occurred last night. “Sh-shit!” He attempted to sit up, but your hand held his arm back.

“Shh, it’s okay.” You cooed, as he peered around frantically confused. He cracked his neck with a sharp turn, and his big eyes landed on you; once again, comforting him, as though he hadn’t put you through hell in the mere days he’s communicated with you.

His head fervently began shaking, as if to reject all that he’d done, as if everything he ever did you to was just a nightmare of his own fears, that he didn’t do what he did. But he did. And his eyes started welling up. “I-I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” He choked. “For everything, I didn’t- I’m so fucking sorry-”

“Shh, Eddie-”

“I don’t want to scare you, and I’m s-sorry for doing it in the first place, I’m so so fucking so-”

“Eddie, just lay down, it’s okay.” You attempted to ease into him, as you lowered him down, his begrudgement leaving him hesitating until his back was flat against your bed.

Once relaxed, it seemed his body and mind gave up on the restraints of his emotions, and his stream of tears came pouring with all dejection and regret of how everything had played out between you two. Eddie Munson hated himself. Hated who he was. Someone set up for the failures of life, he rejected anything that could steer him from a path of love and acceptance. And he hated that. He hated the life he had. At any given opportunity to go back in time, he would scream at his father, hit his father, just get him and his mother away from his father so that he could just grow up to be a normal person. A normal person, who could process their emotions and not deduce themselves into a nihilistic asshole. A normal person, who wouldn’t degrade the only person who’s held him without hurting him. A normal person, who would love you and cherish you as you deserved. Yet Eddie Munson hated his life and hated any momentous occasion that could possibly diminish the pain of life… like you. Because good things don’t happen to Eddie Munson, and you held so much power to hurt him.

Seeing his palms stab into his eyes, you gently held his trembling wrist to relieve him from the pain he believed he deserved. “Come on, Eddie, please stop.” You softly spoke trying to ease his hands away from his face. “Everything is okay, I promise.”

“N-no, it’s not!”

“Shh!” You rushed out. “My dad’s awake downstairs.” You whispered.

“S-sorry.” He spoke so meekly, as his hands cleaned the staggering wetness of his eyes and cheeks.

The atmosphere between you both fell stagnantly silent, as he tried to control his breathing through the tiny sniffles of his nose. He felt you staring, eyes boring into the side of his head, as he peered up at the dark ceiling. He couldn’t stand to look at you right now. He had just drunkenly sobbed and was now blubbering like a child, because of all the bullshit he just put you through. He was a-fucking-shamed. Ashamed of all he’s done. Ashamed of who he was. And you were seeing the worst of it.

“Eddie.” He closed his eyes and shook his head no. “Please.”

He slowly turned his head and met your tired yet so fucking beautiful face. God, he could stare at you forever. How could he do this to you? Put you through off of that, just because he was scared. He fucking hated himself, and you could so clearly see the despise against himself in his saddened eyes. I’m sorry I am the way that I am, I’m sorry you have to put up with me, I’m sorry I’m here ruining your life. He didn’t have to say it, it was engraved on his face.

His heart almost lunged out of his chest when you crept closer, noses nearly touching, as your eyes engulfed him with a meaningful stare. “I’m really glad you came.”

“What?” You truly couldn’t have been, but your head nodded with the soothing confirmation he needed.

“Yeah, I am.” You whispered.

“You shouldn’t be.” He whispered. “What I did was awful.”

“I know.” You sighed. “I know, and please don’t ever do that again. But I’m still glad you came. Glad that we talked. Glad that I got to understand.”

“I wish I told you sooner… and better.” He pinched his eyes closed at the haunting memory. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to scare you, I’m so fucking sorry I did.”

“I know you are.” There was no “it’s fine” or forgiveness to offer, because he truly did cross a line that terrified you. But you could accept his understanding of the wrongdoing he did. Because acknowledgement was a valuable step in moving forward.

“I just- Y/N, I just really want to be with you.” There it was. He was putting himself out there once and for all, risking it, because you deserved to know. The torment of his emotional unavailability was ending, because he was ready to face the adversity of his trauma to make you happy. But that was exactly the issue. You could see he was ready to do it for you. Not himself. And whatever was brewing between you and Eddie Munson would not magically dissolve the underlying issue within both of you under the guise that you both got together and skipped away into the sunset happily ever after. Reality was a harsh slap in the face, and you knew he’d hate it, but it was what was needed.

“I just want you to be okay, Eddie.” You confided with a heavy bite of your lip. “I… want to be okay, Eddie.”

His eyes were glossing with threatening tears again. He knew what was coming. “You don’t wanna be with me.” He murmured. It was no question, but a simple truth he had to face.

“No.” You spoke with deep conviction. “I don’t want to be with the person you are right now. I can’t be. Not now. It wouldn’t be right, and I just want us to be okay.” You brushed his bangs away. His lips began trembling, but he accepted your boundaries with a vehement nod to his head to let you know he understood. “Eddie,” you punctuated so it became cemented, “I don’t want you to do this again-”

“I won’t, I swear, I won’t drink-”

“No, Eddie… I don’t want you coming here. To my house. To see me.” You sighed, as his eyes desperately scanned your face for the off chance you’d say you were kidding and you wanted him over all the time. But your words continued.

“I’m really fucking sorr-”

“I know you are, Eddie. I know.” A heavy breath from your chest escaped. “But I need time, and it may not seem like it now, but you need time, too. So I don’t want you calling. I don’t want you asking anyone where I am or how to talk to me. Not Chrissy, not anyone. Promise me.”

He agreed.

But Eddie Munson would break this promise. Not for some drunken, overbearing, emotional reason, though. But for good reason. All because your bedroom door slammed open.

Synchronized through driven fear, yours and Eddie’s head snapped at the sudden bust of your bedroom door, where your father stood effervesce with indignation of pure enragement at the sight of Eddie in your bed.

“Get out of my house!”

“Dad, wait!”

Your words were not of care to your dad, as he shoved you onto the ground with a shriek of horror escaping your lungs, as he charged himself onto your bed. The shot of adrenaline had coursed out any inebriations from the night before, as Eddie went against the swelling pounding of his head to jump from the comfort of your sheets and tumble onto the floor.

“I’m gonna fucking kill you!” Imprinted with the mud of his shoes, the pool of his drool, and now crumbled under the heavy weight of your father’s fall, the sanctity of your bed—the only thing that had caressed you through the hardships of your life, where you found solace in the safety of its soft cotton and silk, where your mother once cuddled you to sleep as she spoke of the future, I’m gonna lay your pretty prom dress right on the bed and watch you become so beautiful for your special night, where you cried yourself to sleep for countless night because she left you and she didn’t actually want to see you become so beautiful for your special night—had demised under the ruins of men who made you bawl your eyes out and made you feel so little about yourself. And maybe your bed being derelict was a cursory occasion to cry over, maybe it wasn’t; nonetheless, your eyes began to brim with the flooding tears of the overstimulated stress of an exhausted mind, dry eyes, and a splitting heart.

“Please stop.” Too quiet and airy for any big, angry, men to hear.

Because big, angry, men don’t care for the aching pain of the people they hurt.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit…” Eddie stumbled onto wobbly feet, planting the palms of his hands to stand himself away from your reaching father. “M’so fuckin’ sorry!” At that point, the directions of his words were either targeted to you or your father, you couldn’t decipher, and truthfully, you didn’t care to decipher.

Your father managed to unravel himself from the hold of your blankets, stepping off with heavy stomps to follow Eddie around your room. “You better get out of my fucking house, I’m fucking calling the cops! How dare you fucking touch my daughter?!”

“Dad, please.” Weak, broken, unheard.

“I fuckin’ didn’t!” Eddie was fortunate enough to spot his beloved jacket, snatching it from the confines of your desk chair, where he was able to roll it out as an obstruction to your father’s determined path of strangling Eddie Munson.

Because in the mind of a relentless resolute driven by all the wrong ideas because of the pain he so adamantly refused the face, Eddie Munson was the cause of your ultimate failure. Eddie Munson manipulated his daughter. Eddie Munson got his daughter suspended. Eddie Munson would be the reason your failure tainted the family name.

Eddie pummeled through your door, coming face-to-face with the extravagant expanse of your home. Cold. Everything was freezing cold, from the temperature to the decoration. Deprived from any signs of life. As if it was a museum. His bulging eyes found the large staircase, and it truly amazed him how his feet found every step without thought, simply autopilot. There was a yanking urge that was demanding him to go back. Go back for you. Make sure you were okay. Make sure to clean your tears up. Once again, he was making you cry. Maybe not entirely his fault, but his being was partaking in your agony and he fucking hated himself for it. But the weighing steps of her father marching right on his ass prompted him to move forward. Your front door was swung carelessly, welcoming the hot air of the burning morning, where once again, the clean cut grass of the manicured lawn was falling victim to Eddie’s destruction of mucky shoes. Maybe drinking hadn’t been too bad of an idea—it absolutely was—as Eddie’s drunken state, at nine at night, had left his keys impaled into the ignition ready to go.

The haggard van erupted to life, Eddie had never been so grateful to hear the god awful clunk that definitely needed to be checked out. Peer out once more, your wrathful father ran with a tirade of curses that condemned Eddie Munson back to hell, but the screech of his reversing tires interrupted his polemic. “Don’t you ever come back! You’ll be dead before your kind can even step foot into my fucking neighborhood!”

Eddie Munson would return back in eighteen hours.

“There’s an old man sitting next to me…” Wayne softly chuckled, as the lyrics had been repeating out of his mouth for the entirety of his shift, after Rodney Nickelvich decided to play the voice of Billy Joel during break.

It’d been a particularly difficult shift. His back wasn’t getting any younger, and the evident ache that decided to settle in the lower region was making it known. But the stiffness of his folding bed would alleviate enough, at least until his next shift. But that never came for Wayne Munson. Because the second—the literal second—his head managed to even briefly skim his flat pillow, the presence of his caterwauling nephew combusted through their front door with no regards for the tired old man in the living room. Eddie hadn’t even looked his way. A straight B-line to the phone.

“And where the hell have you been?” Wayne groaned with prostration. “Comin’ in here like you own the place, have you lost your mind, boy?”

But there was no answer.

Where Eddie would have normally spoken back with a clear answer of respect, there was nothing. No acknowledgement.

“Ed.”

Already engraved into his mind like the chords to his guitar, Eddie punched the buttons to your number on the yellow phone. But then he stopped. “I need the time… I don’t want you calling.” But this was bigger than that, right? He needed to know you were okay. “Please don’t hate me.” He scrunched his brows in the burning pain of betraying your boundaries. Once again. His finger dialed the rest of the numbers.

But it was dead. Not a ring. Not a buzz. Not a single indication that your phone was even ringing. Just a deadline. And Eddie’s heart sank to the deepest pit in his stomach. “Fuck!”

“Eddie.” Wayne’s face etched with concern. “What the hell is goin’ on?”

Eddie’s chest began hyperventilating with worry for you. “I-I… shit, I-uh… I really gotta get to school.”

Wayne sat up, now. Never in the decade he’s been in the care of Eddie Munson had that boy ever rushed out to get to school. Something was deeply wrong. But he couldn’t even hurtle a question of scrutiny, as Eddie had already slammed the door shut with his being gone, so deeply perturbed.

Eddie was truly pissed off at this point.

The entire proposition of arriving early to school was to find Chrissy Cunningham, but just as it occurred yesterday afternoon, the cheerleader was nowhere to be seen in the breadth of Hawkins High. He knew he was going against your wishes, quite specifically, but his heart and mind couldn’t fathom the possible danger you could be subjected to. He had too. Right? Would you just hate him more for interfering? God, he was shooting himself over the complication he construed the entire situation to become. Asking his friends had quickly been classified as the most imbecilic measure he’d ever succumb to, as those guys had never found the courage to conjure up an idea to jump start an actual conversation with an actual girl. Knowing where the head cheerleader was was beyond their source of knowledge. Yesterday’s clothes, dry mouth, red eyes, the residing ache of his hangover still tormenting his sore limbs, and now having no comprehension of whether or not you were safe at the aggressive hands of your father, Eddie was about to traject the heaviest waterfall of beer and bile onto the grimy floors of Mr. Hall’s carpentry class. But the shrieking bell unexpectedly pacified the turbulence brewing in his belly, and he was shoving passed visibly annoyed bodies to reach the cafeteria. His only chance.

His overloaded mind didn’t even process the trouble he was walking into, but unwavering was Eddie Munson as he marched into the bustling cafeteria of crackling students and cardboard food, legs pushing him to the table. “Chrissy!” Heads snapped like automated robots. Yeah, he probably should have thought this out. Glares couldn’t even amount to the looks he was receiving from the highest of Hawkins High. This was no laughing matter, but the urge to not laugh at Jason Carver’s battered face left all self control out of Eddie, as the perfect comb-over paired with the purple swollen skin personified the magnificence of juxtapositions.

“You want something, freak?” Jason stood with a puffed chest.

“Look a little different, Carver, that new?” Eddie gestured to the contuse skin, smirking oleaginously. As if it was previously discussed, Andy McAvoy and Chance Williams stood to defend the precious honor of their friend. In Eddie’s mind, it pleased him to know a conversation of protection was ordered by Jason to his goons to preserve any remaining prettiness of his face. Prom was coming up. “Relax, I didn’t say your names, did I?”

Eddie and Jason’s gaze looked down upon Chrissy, who’s brows were cinched with confusion and worry as to what was going to occur. Jason could only snicker incredulously. “She’s not speaking to you! You really think I’m gonna leave her with some devil worshiper like you? Why don’t you do this whole town a favor and fuck off with the circus, fucking basketcase.”

But Eddie was indefatigable to the insults of the perfectly pristine. They’d been propelled since childhood, the last thing to strike his ego would be the dense words of Jason fucking Carver. Eddie had bigger issues at hand.

“That’s really cute, Carver, but she can make her own decisions, and right now,” Eddie locked eyes with a frantic Chrissy Cunningham, “we have something important to talk about.” It was imperative for Chrissy to understand, and the moment her eyes softened, a breath of relief escaped Eddie at her understanding. Your name was oozing importance.

“Are you that fucking insane-”

“Jason,” Chrissy held his hand, “h-he’s right.”

“What?!”

A disgustingly pompous smile eased onto Eddie’s face.

“It’s, uh, it’s for, um, Mrs. Durberry.” Chrissy nodded. “I-I have to, uh, tutor Eddie. We, um, we discussed it yesterday during, uh, lunch. Yeah, during lunch!”

“During lunch.” Eddie smirked with a condescending nod.

Jason huffed through flared nostrils, bending down to look Chrissy right in the eye. Though whispered in secrecy, Eddie rolled his eyes with agitation. “Are you sure about this? Is he just making you do this?”

“No, I promise.” Chrissy assured. “You know I aced chemistry, Mrs. Durberry is just trying to give me an opportunity to get community service hours, and tutoring was the perfect chance. You know it’ll look good for college applications.”

The lie was good enough to believe- not good enough to like, but good enough to believe, and that’s all Eddie Munson and Chrissy Cunningham needed. Jason sat down in defeat, the other players following in unison, as Chrissy gathered her items. “You try anything, Munson, and you're dead.” Jason pointed with a stern finger.

Chrissy had quickly walked by, hoping Eddie would just follow, but of course, he couldn’t leave without the last word. “Right, right,” he slyly smiled, “might wanna put some ice on that, s’looking a little nasty. Who did that to you again?”

“Eddie.” Chrissy chastised.

Now, it was most abundantly clear that Chrissy Cunningham was not an indictment of the American education system, her grades almost as perfect as yours—though no one could come close to your precociousness—yet Eddie had to reevaluate his beliefs when Chrissy was marching vastly farther than anticipated.

“Jesus Christ, Chris, y’know we don’t actually have to intrude Durberry’s class? She fucking hates me.” Eddie giggled. “‘Specially after I used the bunsen burner to light a joint. Kept asking “what’s that smell” for a week.”

Chrissy finally came to a halt after turning into another empty hall. “Sorry.” She sighed. “Just can’t have Jason following us.”

“Y’know, you could probably do better than some control freak who follows you around.” Eddie shrugged.

Chrissy blinked at her shoes in contemplation. Eddie hadn’t expected the words to hit so deeply, a mere critique to the numerous problems he found in Jason Carver, but nonetheless, the cheerleader got extremely quiet, before shaking her head to get back to the point.

“A-anyways, um, what is it that you, uh, wanted?” She rushed out.

“Oh! Right, um, I need you to go to Y/N’s house.” His eyes widened, as his lips tightened between his mouth. He knew it was outrageous to ask.

“W-what?”

“Look, I know that’s a big ask-”

“I already gave you her number and address, why don’t you g-”

“I did!” He heaved. “I fucking did, and I messed up!”

Chrissy slumped,“Again?!”

Eddie winced. Again, again, again, again, again.

“Look, I “made” it to her house, and we got to talk. But her fucking dad caught me in her room, and just went haywire on me. Practically chased me out.” Eddie stressed. “And I-I tried to call her to make sure she was okay, I mean, it’d been a long night and she was crying when I left, and, fuck, Chris, I don’t know what her dad is capable of.” Is he like my dad? “Her line was dead when I tried, like off the hook, and I can’t go over to make sure she’s safe, Chrissy. I have to make sure she’s okay. Can you please just, I don’t know, do this for me, I’m fucking helpless here, I’m…” Helpless to my mother.

Chrissy was taken aback by the pure fear in his eyes as he rambled into oblivion. She knew you. She knew your father. She could only imagine how ballistic he’s gone in the past couple of days knowing what’s happened. “Okay, okay, okay, yeah, um, yeah,” Chrissy took a deep breath with a soft nod to her head, “Yeah, I’ll try to come over- but her dad’s really strict, Eddie. Like extremely, he’s the only reason why she’s so, you know, hard about her grades and stuff, I don’t know if he’d actually let me see her-”

“Please, please, just try.” Chrissy took notice of just how tightly his hands were balling into themselves, knuckles turning a blistering white from the lack of ease he was inflicting upon himself. “She’s your friend, and she doesn’t want to see me, so please, I’m begging you, Chris-”

“I will, Eddie, I will.” She reassured, as she adjusted her knit sweater that suddenly became itchy on her sensitive skin. “I just, um, I’ll probably have to come up with an excuse, a-and skip practice.”

“Look, m’sorry I’m dragging you into this, but I just need to make sure she’s okay, and maybe you can finally have a chance to talk to her about…y’know.” Chrissy shook her head quickly, acknowledging but not trying to think about her implicit endorsement to the status quo at Hawkins High, and how much it had hurt you. And she let it hurt you. “Just- you can’t tell her it was me who sent you, okay? Sh-she wants nothing to do with me, and I’m trying to respect that, I just need to know she’s safe, but she can’t know I sent you. I don’t- I don’t want to make her more upset, Chris. I can’t, I just-”

“Eddie,” Realizing the words were once again coming out a mile a minute, he bit his tongue, letting a bubble of air constrict his lungs with a fervent grip. He wasn’t about to cry. He couldn’t. Not here. Not at school. Not in front of Chrissy fucking Cunningham. Not that she’d judge much, she could already see the sheen of his eyes. “I’ll do it, I’ll check on her. A-and I won’t say it was you.”

His body was finally able to ease at her response, finally letting his airway release all tensions from the stirring anxiety that was still nesting in the crevices of his stomach. “Thank you, thank you so much.” His hands reached for her shoulders with a firm shake of acknowledgement, though his strength had her stumbling on her feet a bit. Not that he noticed. He was still worrying about you. “Just, uh, call me or something, the second she, uh- the second you know she’s okay.” Eddie didn’t want to think of the other possibility. The possibility where your father had laid a hand on you. Or worse. He wouldn’t know what to do. In his experience, silently crying and letting daddy take his frustrations out was the safest option. It was what mommy said to do, so dad wouldn’t do worse. At least ice cream was always promised at the end to make it all go away.

“Yeah, okay, I’ll do that.” She nodded in agreement.

With the confirmation stated, Eddie had already begun walking away with a determined plan in mind to sit in front of the yellow telephone until the shrilling call came through. His mind dead set on you.

“Wait!” Chrissy had to snap him back to reality. “Eddie, I don’t have your phone number.” She lightheartedly scoffed.

Chrissy Cunningham began to worry. Yes, about you. She was ready to march her way past your father in order to make sure you were okay, and to pour her heart out on a well needed apology just so you could understand how sorry she was. Even if you didn’t accept it. But she was also worried about herself. Never in a million years did she expect Eddie Munson, of all people, to show her what true feelings were. He hadn’t even talked to you for more than a week, and he was bending over backwards to ensure all his wrongs were corrected for your safety and comfort. Jason Carvered loved her, she knew it, but the subtle things were becoming pronounced. Do you really think you should be wearing that? My parents will be there. Just come to the party, I’ll look bad if my girlfriend’s not there. When she comes back, I don’t want you hanging around Y/N anymore. She’s bad news and betrayed your friendship by fucking around with that trailer trash. Don’t make yourself look bad by being friends with her.

“Shit, yeah, sorry, my, uh, my brains all over the place.” He crazily signaled with a swing of his hand. Unlike yesterday, Chrissy’s pink pen was tainting a small torn sheet of notebook paper rather than skin, as risking the chance of Jason Carver seeing Eddie Munson’s phone number written on her hand would prompt another outburst of fury between the boys. So as Eddie reiterated the numbers to his home, Chrissy copied with intent.

Intent to see you. Intent to apologize. Intent to inform Eddie.

“Okay, I’ll call you as soon as I leave her place.” Chrissy assured, as the queasiness in Eddie had simmered but surely hadn’t left. He knew as soon as he got home, the consternation would eat him unalive.

Eddie nodded his head. “Yeah, thanks again, seriously, I’ll owe you whatever.” He sighed, before his brows perked. “Oh! I can give a twenty percent discount!” He didn’t even have to specify.

Chrissy Cunningham didn’t smoke. But at least he was trying.

“Uh, s-sure, Eddie.” She simply agreed, and it was able to give him a satisfied smile. “Anyways, yeah, I’ll talk to you later. Just try not to worry too much, I’m sure she’s okay.” She inspirited.

“Okay, yeah, as soon as you can.” Eddie sighed. “I’ll leave you to it, I’m gonna go throw up or something.”

Luckily, Eddie Munson didn’t vomit in the filthy stall that is the boys’ bathroom at Hawkins High, though Chrissy Cunningham sure felt like she was about to hurl today’s lunch and breakfast standing at the doorstep of your home. Her toes tensed in the comfort of her sneakers, hearing the incoming steps of your father approaching the door. Hands gripping the straps of her backpack, she was ready- well, as ready as one can be about to face their best friend’s—did she even have a right to call you that—daunting father.

The door swung. “Hi, Mr. Y/L/N!” Smile, a bright smile and wave from Chrissy Cunningham was sure enough to get anyone to be polite. But his face plastered the same dead expression he’s had for the last four years Chrissy had known him. No smile. No squint of the eyes. Unemotional stoicism.

“Hi, Chrissy.” Robots had more pep in their voices. “Sorry, but Y/N is grounded, for quite an extensive period actually, so she’s not allowed visitors. Go home.” He began to close the door, but Chrissy’s manicured hand abruptly stopped the closure.

“Wait!” She immediately reeled back, seeing the disrespecting look take over his face. “Sorry, sir, I-I’m not here to hang out, it’s just, uh, I brought all the school work Y/N’s missed. You know, from her suspension?” She spoke sheepishly. “A-and well, we don’t want her falling behind, sir.” A nervous chuckle accompanied her faux parent voice. “In fact, Mrs. Durberry and I actually discussed tutoring, so, you know, Y/N is back on track by the time of her return.”

It was in regards to your grades, your father’s favorite. Chrissy Cunningham was a genius.

“Really?” He questioned quizzically.

“Yeah!” Chrissy bounced on the balls of her feet with a firm pat to her backpack. “I’ve got all her work right here. She’s free to turn it in when she gets back, and you know, she’s firmly secured that valedictorian spot, so there’s no need to worry.” She smiled, and of course, of course, that’s all he cared about in the wake of your suspension.

So easily had Chrissy been let into your home. She wondered what she would say to you, as she followed behind your father to your room. It was strange. Your home had always been a cold one, but your laughter and the endless sleepless sleepovers had the ability to bring warmth to such a colorless environment. But all that suffocated her was hostility. Long gone were the memories of an innocent friendship between the two girls. Another factor to consider was the mere fact that your father was guiding Chrissy. She’d been over to your house for years, the layout didn’t suddenly change over a couple days, and a nervous thump began upsetting Chrissy’s heart. And she found out why.

“Had to lock her up.” He uttered with no shame, as he pulled out a glowing key from his pocket. Haphazardly bolted on your door was a new lock, evidently cheaply and hastily done, as the lock resembled the numerous ones used for the lockers at Hawkins High, and the chipped paint and exposed wood could only insinuate the fury in which this job was done in. Your door lock, one onced used when you and Chrissy discussed the boys you thought were cutest at school in your pink pajamas, was now accompanied by a prison lock keeping you captive in your bedroom. “Should've seen the trash she was bringing in.” He muttered mostly to himself. Chrissy didn’t speak. She couldn’t speak. Too disturbed for her own wellbeing. “Do me a favor, kid,” he unlocked the door, “knock some sense into that disgrace.”

He walked away without a care.

The door creaked open, and Chrissy had taken a deep breath. Stepping inside, with a soft click of the door behind her, her eyes landed on the still figure on your bed. Turned away and engaging at the neverending nothingness of everything, you cocooned yourself in your blanket, like a hurt child. Because you merely were one. Chrissy looked away, inching tiny steps closer. Disheveled would be an understatement to the usual cleanliness of your room. Knick-knacks and personal items were thrown about, cracked, and broken, and damaged beyond the actions of someone who was depressed. No, this was the destruction of deep rooted anger.

No expecting the company, you simply screwed your eyes closed with the awaiting words of hatred you thought would be coming from your father at any second. But it didn’t. Only the familiar softness of Chrissy Cunningham, your best friend. “Y/N…?”

You immediately jumped at the sound, meeting your reddening, wet eyes with Chrissy’s round, worried blue ones. “Chrissy…”

The occupying distrust you had for her was incomparable to the pain of what had occurred today. Yes, she hurt you. Yes, you lost your one true friend. But you needed her. And your arms opened like the broken child reaching out for help, and she immediately embraced you on your bed. Your bed, where you spent countless times giving each other at-home mani and pedis, even though your allowances provided enough for professional services, but this was more fun. Your bed, where Chrissy once vented about the first fight she ever had with Jason Carver, because he disregarded her at a party to do a keg stand—yes, it was trivial, but they were sixteen at the time. And your bed, where you both shared the vulnerability of losing a mother, either physically or emotionally, through sobbing tears and tight hugs, but none of that mattered because you were best friends and had each other. Forever.

“Are you okay?” Her vision appeared blurry under the disorientating state of water welling in her eyes. “I’m so sorry for everything.” Chrissy stroked your hair. You couldn’t muster a word to respond with, merely silently crying into the junction of her neck, where she smelled of spring flowers. You’d picked out that perfume for her. Her seventeenth birthday. “I should’ve stuck up for you, I-I should’ve told everyone to stop, I’m so sorry I didn’t.”

Her apology suddenly revealed why you lost trust in her in the first place. Urgently pulling back from the hug far quicker than Chrissy would have liked, you brought your knees to your chest, letting your face find solace on the tiny space rather than her embrace.

“What are you doing here, Chris?” You mumbled so quiet, she was barely able to register it from the chirping birds outside.

“I came to apologize to you.” At least she wasn’t drunk. “I- Y/N everything I did to you was awful.” Her plucked brows furrowed with shame and remorse. You carefully picked up your head, as she gently held knee. “When everyone started saying stuff about you, I was so confused, and before I could even question it, Jason had me promise to not be around you, and I’m so sorry. I’m not trying to excuse what I did, I just should have known better, and I needed to apologize to you.”

Your eyes had closed in relief. You were beyond the trenches of exhaustion, everything was so sore from the exertion of crying, that the simple apology brought the grand relief you’d been yearning for. “I-I think I need space away from Jason.” That had your eyes snapping open. Jason and Chrissy, in love since the tenth grade, becoming the embodiment of young love in Hawkins. Their parents had practically set up a future in which both attended the same university as young adults, and married each other with the expectation of kids by the age of twenty-five.

“I don’t like who he is as a person.” She confessed with a wobbly lip. “ I know he loves me, but I love you, and I don’t want to hurt you.”

You took her back into a loving hug, where she fell limp in your arms, as her tears stained your clothes. Though muffled you spoke with a small whine, “You sound like Eddie.” Which had her giggling through tears.

She had slowly pulled away, smiling at the small curve of your lips that was brightening your face. She wiped your tears, and caressed the hairs out of your face. “Yeah, he’s kinda my new friend now.” She shrugged. “Even offered me a discount to his… business.”

You laughed with a roll to your eyes. “Quite the entrepreneur he is.” She snickered in agreement. “But yeah, I could tell when he came to my house yesterday.”

“Oh, god.” Chrissy plopped back on your bed. “How did you even figure out it was me, you’re so smart?”

You giggled, joining her, as you stared up at the ceiling. “Seeing someone like Eddie Munson show up with pretty pink writing on him doesn’t seem like something that occurs innately in nature. Figured you had something to do with it.”

“I’m sorry for that, too.” She turned to look at you. “I shouldn’t have given him that information without asking you. He just really wanted to apologize to you, too, and it seemed like the right thing to do. What even happened?” She sat up to get serious.

You couldn’t fathom retelling the occurrence of what happened, so you merely opted for the safest choice, and nodded your head in silence. “He did apologize, just wish he would have done it differently.” You sighed. “And, uh, my dad-” Your throat had automatically constricted at the simple mention of him, eyes tightening with the hopes of suppressing the whirlwind of tears that were about to flood your face. “Chrissy, he wouldn’t stop yelling.” You began bawling, as she pulled you up to wrap her arms around your shrinking body. “H-he kept screaming a-and shouting, then he just- he just started throwing things-” Chrissy could only rock you body, gently and softly, letting your tears hit her shoulder with all might. “I was so scared.”

The dreaded question. “Did- did he hit you?” Chrissy spoke into your hair, terrified of how you might answer. But luckily, the tiniest bit of luck, you had shook your head no, and she let out a deep breath. But the harsh slap of reality was that your father had still severely crossed a line that put you in an unsafe environment. And you were petrified.

“He’s not letting me leave my room.” You whispered through sniffles.

“Did he take your phone, Edd-” Chrissy contemplated for a second, before she spoke extremely softly. “Eddie said you didn’t pick up when he tried to call you after what happened.”

“He tried to call me?”

“Just to make sure you were okay.” She emphasized. “He said he’s trying to respect your wishes of wanting space, but after what happened, he just needed to know you were safe… that’s why- that’s why I’m here.” Your brows furrowed and you immediately sat up. “I’d been wanting to apologize to you, and Eddie had been dying to make sure you were okay, so he asked me to come check on you, and so I could finally say sorry to you. He- Y/N, he really cares about you. We both do.”

This was the bit of progress you were wanting to see. To know that the Eddie Munson you met Friday afternoon, the one who coward away at the mere idea of feelings and compassion, the one who uttered the vile words that stabbed right through you, the one who shouted in defense because he was hurt, that that wasn’t him. It wasn’t who he wanted to be. It wasn’t who he truly was. But a recovery from trauma was not a linear progression, and last night you were able to understand the fluctuations of Eddie Munson, the reason why he berated and hurt, the reason why he comforted and protected, the reason why he wailed and sobbed.

“Chrissy, when’s the next time you’re gonna see him?” You cleared your face from staining tears.

“I’ll see him at school tomorrow, but he asked me to call him to make sure you were safe first.”

You nodded. “I, uh- can you actually ask him something for me?”

That one clunking noise Eddie had once been so happy to hear? Yeah, he’s returned back to detesting it, as he felt it drew so much attention to the all too quiet streets of Pinecrest Acres. He made the conscience—and sober—decision to park behind the gray De Tomaso Pantera—fighting the urge to just pop the hood and look at the beauty inside—that resided two houses down from yours. It gave him enough coverage away from any view of your father. Eddie was terrified. Much to his dismay, Chrissy had been fairly vague over the phone when she rang him at 5:59 p.m exactly. Luckily by then, a buddy of Wayne’s had taken him out to an early dinner before their shift at the plant, so his uncle missed out on the Olympic-worthy run Eddie had made to the phone the second it began ringing. And Chrissy had spoken. A lot. But so little at the same time. He was happy to hear you guys made up. Truly he was. But Chrissy had carried on for a five minute tangent about how gladly you accepted her back into your life again. Eddie Munson was honestly jealous. Though she had mentioned how you specified wanting time away from her, too, maybe meeting up to speak that coming Monday at school when your suspension would be over. Eddie had wondered if you would speak to him then, too. But he didn’t have to wonder much longer. After he so kindly told the cheerleader to get to the point, the real point he wanted to hear, she had assured him that you were okay. Physically, at least. Eddie had dropped to his kitchen chair with a breath of relief that no one had touched you. But then Chrissy kept speaking. She wants to see you. Tonight. That had Eddie trajecting back up from his seat. But his questions had disappointingly gone unanswered. No details. No explanation. No reasoning. Just show up, Eddie. At midnight. At her window. And not drunk. Chrissy had never gotten the full story as to what went down between you and Eddie, so that part desperately confused and intrigued the girl, but she didn’t push any further. Eddie, though, had cringed in disgust at himself because he knew.

An owl had hooted in the distance as he followed the tracks his beloved, dying van had made on your green lawn. Once again, Eddie had found himself in the same position as last night, cracking his neck and rolling his limbs for the climb of a lifetime. If it was somehow possible, he felt he was quivering more than when he was three beers down and no dinner. Yes, he was sober, but his heart could stop beating at the neverending questions his mind was bombarding against himself. Were you mad because he sent Chrissy over? Surely you couldn’t be, she would have said so. But you could also be really fucking pissed. The same type of anger that caught him off guard when his father swung on his little face when Eddie thought they were having a good time.

But he couldn’t rely on heavy thoughts as such. He just needed to get to you. Passed the trellis, over the trimming, onto the roof. Quiet as Eddie Munson could be. He couldn’t really be quiet, but he tried for you. Crouching his way to your window, he sucked in a deep breath before he ever so gently tapped on your window. He was eyeing his reflection, wondering who the hell he had become. The one definitive figure he didn’t want to become: his father. A relentless pessimist, hatred against the world, bruteness to show off, and the inability to take accountability for the hurt they cause, because they were hurt first, right?

But then your curtains opened, and there you were. You.

You, who’d included his friends when no one wanted them. You, who made him smile despite his hesitations of getting hurt. You, who took the fall for everything. You, who gave Eddie Munson a chance.

You lifted your window open. “Hi.”

Eddie could cry right then and there. His shaky trembling hands slowly offered themselves to you, and you peered down, gently laying yours in his, where your warmth dissipated his coldness. He sighed with a loving grasp. “Y-you’re okay? He didn’t- did he touch you?”

Eddie had heard it from Chrissy, but hearing your small “no” was more comforting than a third-party person.

“Why, um, why did you need to see me?” He softly cleared his throat.

“I want to talk, b-but not here.” Eddie nodded ardently at your request. “Just somewhere far.”

Somewhere far, he could give that to you.

Helping you out of your window, you followed Eddie’s led to the edge of your roof, where you traced the dying height from your second story room to the hard, hard, ground. “Don’t be scared.” He soothingly smiled. “Remember, I made the climb drunk.”

You shook your head in disappointment, but he saw that small, beautiful smile peak through your lips. “Just, um, please don’t let me fall.” Your stomach sunk at the eerie possibility.

But Eddie was there, and he let you know with a secure squeeze to your joint hands. “Never.”

You watched him descend. Off of the roof. Over the trimming. Down the trellis. He made it look so easy, as if he actively partook in the illegal activity of breaking and entering. Eddie would never admit it, not now at least, but for good reason he had done it once. Once. Mr. Godly had a cat that fifteen-year-old Eddie once saw the old man kick. Safe to say, Cronkers now resides in the makeshift cat house of cardboard, wood, and a childhood blanket behind the Munson’s residence. Her favorite is Wayne’s Monday meatloaf.

He encouraged you down delicately. Instructing you to take small movements, find your steps, and he’ll be right there. He’d always be there. When your Converse hit the holes of the trellis, his hands faintly found your waist, where you trusted him to carry you down the last couple abrasive steps onto your crushed garden. Feet safely on the ground, you gazed up at his staggering height and met his concerned eyes. You merely nodded before he could get the words out, are you okay?

“Your car?” You interrupted his staring. But in his defense, your face was illuminated mesmerizingly in the moonlight of the dark sky.

“Right, right.” He cleared his throat. “Sorry.” He muttered in embarrassment, as he quickly walked away before you could see his flushing cheeks. As if you hadn’t already witnessed him ugly cry drunk in your bedroom.

You walked the quiet trip to his van, where he graciously opened the door for you. You didn’t know at the time, but the couple yards it took to get to his car, he’d been battling himself whether or not that’d be the right move to try. He’d never opened the door for anyone. But your small “thank you” that flashed his way had him praising to the gods he didn’t even believe in that he was a genius.

His car smelled strongly like cigarettes and weed. It honestly hurt your head, but you hadn’t expected anything less from Eddie. It made you giggle to yourself. The usual was everywhere; littered receipts and wrappers crumbled into the door compartments, numerous scented trees hanging from the rear view mirror, which you could only assume had been Eddie’s attempt to mask the nicotine and marajuana, and of course, an array of tapes thrown upon the floor at your feet, you could vividly imagine Eddie getting tired of a tape and carelessly getting rid of it. But then there was something else.

Eddie appeared in the front seat. “You ready?” He heaved.

“Yeah, but, um, why do you have these?”

“Ice cream?” He questioned more than answered. Yes, ice cream sitting in the tight space of his cupholders, two cartons with a spoon for each. “Um, well, I figured it’d be nice to, uh, have. I always, uh, liked having it, I guess. Always made me feel slightly better as a kid. It’s vanilla and chocolate. You can take whichever.” You eyed him incredulously, he eyed you worriedly. “Do you not like either of those flavors? I know I went basic, but I thought they were safe choices. I can get you whatever. Strawberry, cookies n’ cream, mint?” He grimaced, as though it was a deal breaker but he’d look right past it.

You giggled at him. “No, Eddie, it’s okay. I just didn’t expect it.” You shyly smiled.

“Okay, good.” He smiled, with a whistle of relievement. “So, it’ll make you feel better?”

Lovers Lake had been the destination of choice for Eddie. It was quiet and calming. The car ride had been, too. Eddie had suggested some music, but was adamant about his disdain for the radio, though you weren’t necessarily in the mood to have the voices of Megadeth screaming at you this late at night. Eddie had begrudgingly agreed. So it was quiet. He was itching to ask you why you wanted to talk, though that only seemed appropriate whenever you would arrive. You had reached over and played with the mini bobble head figure of Garfield that was nestled against his van’s windshield. You said it was cute. He blushed. Then proceeded to nervously ramble about how Uncle Wayne had one of Odie in his work truck. You didn’t know Uncle Wayne, but he spoke about him like you knew every detail about Wayne already. The lake had been abandoned and lonely upon arrival. The lights to Rick Lipton’s lake house had been shut off for nearly a year now after his arrest. Eddie had only agreed and smiled when you mentioned how an old, lovely couple probably lived there and sat out by the lake to watch the sunset. Sure, something like that. He’d let you have your fantasy. The way the idea lit up your face and eased your tension, he wasn’t about to ruin that.

“We can, um, head to the back.” He offered, to which you agreed.

In truth, the bundle of blankets and pillows in the back of his van didn’t paint him out to be the greatest of all people, but he quickly assured that he frequently takes nap in the comfort of his van when he doesn’t have the energy for Mrs. O’Donnell’s voice. Specifically adding a yapping gesture with his hand to emphasize. So there you were. Sitting in the back, doors open to let in the midnight breeze, as you looked out to the glistening waters. You’d settled on vanilla after you noticed the tighter grip Eddie’s hand had clutched around the chocolate flavor, and surely, a blooming smile erupted on his face when he got to secure his preferred flavor of dessert.

“So, um-”

“I just wanted to speak to you.” You confided. “You know, when we’re not yelling, crying, or drunk,” you giggled at his wincing face, “as we have been doing for the past couple of days.”

“M’a fucking mess, I’m sorry.”

“So am I, Eddie-”

“No, you’re not.” He firmly attested. “You were absolutely perfect before I came into your life and fucked everything up.”

You teased, “You're saying I’m not perfect now?” Your mouth dropped in a dramatic gasp that had him smiling.

“No! No! I’m not saying that at all, you are perfect now, you’ll be perfect for the rest of your life and you won’t even have to try.” He sheepishly grinned, filling his mouth with a big spoonful to bite back the smile.

“Hate to break it to you, Eddie, but I’ve been far from perfect even before I met you. I wish you would see that. It’s doing more harm than good.” You spoke sincerely. “I don’t like you placing me into a bubble, Eddie, especially when you’ve hated the people who’ve done it to you. But I never have.”

His head dropped with a nod. “You’re right.” He accounted. “I’ve had the bullshit done to me for years, I thought it’d finally make me feel good to do it to someone like you. And it was fucking gross of me, because you’re right, you’ve never done anything to me. Actually, that night you took our photo, that was quite literally the nicest anyone has ever treated me- us. And, fuck me, did I like the shit out of you.”

You laughed at his shy revelation. “You have such a romantic way with your words, Eddie Munson.” You joked.

“Sorry.” He covered his mouth so kidlike. “But, uh, yeah I obviously liked you, and well, something in me was just fighting me to stay away. Or get away, more than anything. Because, um, it’d… it’d really fucking hurt if you didn’t like me back.” He couldn’t meet your eyes, speaking with pure shame as to who he was as a person. “And, well, mission fucking accomplished, I, sorta, kinda went above and beyond with that logic.”

“You think?” You smiled.

“It was so stupid of me.” He regrettably sighed. “Because-because I thought- you were just so nice to me. Ready to be my friend and everything, that I knew, I fucking knew my feelings would get too much for me and the realizations that I couldn’t be with you fucking scared me.” His voice had significantly softened to ease the burning ache in his throat. “A-and I’m such a shit excuse of a person that I fucking hurt you when you didn’t deserve it.”

“You are not that, Eddie, don’t say that-”

“But I am, Y/N, I’m so fucking terrible. I-I’m, fuck- I really fucking hate my dad.” Your brows creased at the sudden change of topics. “He was an awful person, he- he would-” The crying began. “Fuck,” he wiped his tears completely embarrassed, “He would just do terrible things to me and my mom, and I fucking said- I fucking said I wouldn’t be like him, be like her- she just fucking took that shit, Y/N, she said it was for the best.” You held his hand, his ice cream long forgotten and pushed to the side. “I just don’t want to be like him- them. M’tryin’ so fucking hard that it fucking backfired. M’such a terrible person, and I’m so sorry.”

You wished this conversation wasn’t full of tears, but you realized how inevitable that idea was. You and Eddie Munson were hurting and releasing. Crying was necessary.

“You are not a terrible person, Eddie.” He had to hear, loud and clear. You rested your head on his shoulder, where his head dropped upon yours. “Terrible people don’t sit and wonder if they’re terrible. And the fact that you care about how you are as a person shows it.” You caressed the back of his hand. “You are a worthwhile person, Eddie. I can so clearly see it.”

“I’m really fucking sorry for everything I’ve done to you, Y/N.” He wiped the incoming snot from his nose with his denim sleeve. “I-I need you to know that everything I did was out of fucking stupidity.” He huffed. “What I called you, those names, that was fucking disgusting, and I don’t believe that about you at all. I never have.”

“I’m sorry for what I said about you, too-”

“Don’t you fucking dare say you’re sorry for telling the truth.” He deeply laughed through his sniffles, voice deeper from the being nasally stuffed.

You smiled back guilty. “No, I am! What I said was really mean, too.”

“Absolutely not, sweetheart.” He chuckled. “What was it, ‘a sulking asshole too pathetic to deal with their problems?’ You hit it right on the nail, princess.”

“Well,” you giggled, “even if you won't let me apologize, I need you to know that I still feel bad. Slightly.”

“Fair enough.” He grinned. “But I do need to apologize, and I need you to know that I’m truly sorry, Y/N. For everything. For what I said. For what I did. For making you feel horrible and scared. And for just putting you through all that. You didn’t deserve any of it. I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

“I know.” You whispered. “And if it’s any consolation to you, Eddie, I also hate my dad.”

“Oh, my god.” Eddie clutched his heart. “He really put a fucking number on me, fuck me.” He groaned, turning to face you. “Please, please, please tell me if he does something. I won’t be able to fucking live my life not knowing.”

Your lips tucked tightly within themselves, and with a soft nod you assured him you would.

You spoke. You both spoke for a while. The hours had passed unknowingly until both tubs of ice cream were empty by 3:33 a.m. Tears and laughter had flooded the back of the van, and you felt like you’d been his friends with him since childhood. He couldn’t fathom the way he treated you, when speaking to you floated him into another dimension of peace and acceptance. Something he hadn’t felt in the entirety of his life. But when you caught a glimpse of the repeating digits on his watch, your heart panicked and you urged him to take you home, which he suddenly complied. This time, though, Megadeth was gladly played, and to say you were shocked would be quite an understatement. Eddie had belted a laugh at your abrupt introduction to metal, finding your this-is-weird-but-I-don’t-want-you-to-think-I’m-judging-you face as the cutest thing ever. And sooner than he liked, he pulled up behind the De Tomaso Pantera. Your attempt to say goodbye fell short, though, when he shot down your idea to walk home alone.

“Really, Eddie, go home, it’s late.” You huffed, when you reached your house.

“I will, I will,” He snickered with defensive hands. “Just, uh, th-thank you so much for, um- well, being so understanding even after all that I did. I just- you really are the best, Y/N.” He ranked his hands over his face in hopes of concealing the ever growing smile on his face.

“Thank you, Eddie.” You giggled at his flustered state. “You’re quite incredible yourself.”

“Do, um, where does this… leave us?”

“I still want space, Eddie.” You spoke honestly, to which he concurred. “Until we’re okay.”

“Until we’re okay.” He sighed.

Eddie had managed to take advantage of the four hours of sleep left until school began. There was no sleeping past his alarm clock, no rush to get dressed, no giving up when lateness was inevitable. He’d shown up, showered and full with a bowl of cereal that went a long way, as he approached Ms. Kelly’s office. It was nerve wracking. He’d never considered this to be a good idea, in fact, following his father’s word, therapy was a pussy excuse for the delusional to waste money on. But those were the words that held him captive from the potential he so well deserved to reach. Turning from her filing cabinet, Ms. Kelly had caught sight of his timid figure standing at the door.

“Eddie.” She hadn’t been unfamiliar with his being, she’d actually been the one to break it to him the last two times that he was in for another year at prison Hawkins High. “How can I help you?”

He sauntered his way into her office, taking a seat with a gruff. It was evident his persona to seem calm, cool, and collected was falling through the cracks, as his finger spun the numerous rings on his fingers. “I, uh, I was wondering if it’d be cool to, um, just talk?”

“Absolutely.” Ms. Kelly dreamed of the day Eddie Munson would enter her office with good intentions. “Anything in particular?”

He shook his head. “No.” He sighed. “Just got a lot pent up inside, I guess.”

“Well, the floor is yours, Eddie.” She smiled. “Talk as much as you need.”

𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 | Unfortunately, my tag list for this series has gotten too long, so I will not be adhering to any further requests to be included. I'm so terribly sorry, but the amount of tags has beyond reached its limit, and I think it's best to stop. I hope it's understandable. Nonetheless, thank you all for your kind support, I hope you guys continue to enjoy the series, and if you ever have any ideas as to what you'd like to see, I'd love to know!

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minisugakoobies · 8 months

Text

Paradise | JJK - Fourteen

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: smut, neighbors to lovers (not quite friends but not quite strangers), slow burn, love triangle, Stripper!AU

Rating: M (18+)

Warnings: drinking, references to blow jobs that happened like 60 seconds before the chapter starts, Jungkook's a bit possessive, Jin's a bit jealous, mentions of pregnancy, references to sex, 2021 AMAs Jungkook is the wedding visual, special guest stars Woosung and El Capitxn

Word Count: 7.5k

Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own BTS - they just inspire me

Summary: That sexy man on stage - the one currently giving your friend the lap dance of her LIFE - is your super shy neighbor, Jeon Jungkook?!

A/N: Happy two years of Paradise!! 🎉 Two years ago today, I posted the first chapter of what was going to be a five-part series. So to say I can't believe we're here is really no joke!! Thank you to everyone who has read, commented, reblogged, sent me asks or DM'd me about this series - this is all because of you! 💜💜💜

Unbeta'd as usual. Please don’t be a silent reader, I’d love to hear from you! Taglist is open. 💕

Previous Chapter ♦️ Paradise Masterlist ♦️ Next Chapter

Turns out that impulsiveness looks pretty good on you.

Or so you think to yourself, catching your reflection in the mirror of the men’s room as you leave Jungkook to collect himself after giving him the best blow job of his life (your words - although, based on the look on his face as you’d swallowed, you might not be far off).

You hadn’t planned on dragging him into the bathroom like that, but upon seeing him walk out onto the terrace in that grey belted suit, looking like an absolute dream, well, you simply could not help yourself.

You also hadn’t meant to tell him you missed him last night. But you had, because you did. God, when had you turned into this - this massive simp? It was only yesterday morning that you’d woken up in Jungkook’s embrace. You’d barely spent 24 hours apart - so why were you so desperate to get back into his arms?

Of course, none of this matters right now. There are only minutes to go before the ceremony begins, and you need to pull your head out of the clouds and get back to Jennie and the others. Starting by escaping the men’s room sight unseen.

“YN!”

Or not.

As soon as you close the door, you hear Jin’s voice calling to you. He’s standing at the other end of the little hallway, near the entrance to the reception room.

“Hey,” you reply, trying to be the most nonchalant you’ve ever been in your life, as if you weren’t just gagging on Jungkook’s dick in a public bathroom.

Jin smiles as you approach, but there’s a gleam in his eye that makes you nervous, and you’re so busy trying to come up with a valid excuse for why he saw you emerging from the men’s room that you apparently forget how to walk, trip over the hem of your gown, and crash directly against his chest.

“Easy, tiger!” he laughs, arms locking around your back as he helps you stand back upright. “I’m used to ladies throwing themselves at me, but only you’ve taken it literally.”

You roll your eyes, but you’re pretty sure he’s not lying about fighting off admirers, given that he looks like a supermodel in his crisply tailored tuxedo. His bowtie is a little crooked thanks to being squashed by your face during your ungainly landing, so you gently fix it, and Jin thanks you with a soft grin.

“I left my glasses at home, so tell me - did I just see you leav-” Jin suddenly stops in the middle of his sentence, his gaze drifting over your shoulder. “Oh. Nevermind, I see.” He takes a step back, arms falling from your waist.

Another hand slips into yours.

Jungkook didn’t wait very long before following you out of the restroom. He squeezes your hand as you glance at him, but he stares directly at Jin, nostrils flaring slightly, eyes narrowed, lips pursed tightly as if - as if -

Oh, shit.

“You left this behind, jagiya.” Jungkook turns to you, his face shifting into a softer expression as he produces your clutch like some sort of trophy. You must’ve left it on the counter. “Did you want me to hold it during the ceremony?”

Your brain is lagging severely at the moment, trying to process two major facts at once. Fact one: Jin obviously realized that you were with Jungkook in the bathroom. Fact two: you completely forgot to tell Jungkook that Jin would be at the wedding. Which, given the events of the last 24 hours, it’s understandable that it slipped your mind, but this isn’t how you’d expected to officially introduce them. And he doesn’t exactly look thrilled to run into him now.

On top of that, Jungkook has asked you a question. And is now waiting for an answer, while Jin watches in polite silence.

“Um. Yes. Sorry, yes, can you keep an eye on it for me?”

Jungkook nods, tucking the clutch into his jacket and patting it lightly. “Of course,” he says, nodding solemnly, as if you’d just asked him to protect precious goods and not a cheap bag full of tissues and mints.

Jin clears his throat lightly.

“Oh! I’m sorry, Jin, this is Koo- Jungkook. Jungkook, Jin.”

Of all the ways for these two to meet, this might not be the most embarrassing, but it’s definitely up there. There’s still a bit of Jungkook’s taste lingering on your tongue as the two men shake hands, Jin wincing slightly.

You try to quickly fill Jungkook in. “Jin’s the best man.”

“Sure am.” Jin grins.

“He and Yoongi grew up together,” you add, ignoring Jin’s little interjection, knowing that Jungkook didn’t miss it based on the way his jaw flexes violently, as if he’s gnashing his teeth.

“Nice to meet you, Jungkook. That’s quite a grip you have there.” Jin slides his hands into his pockets. “YN’s told me a little about you.”

“Nice to meet you, too,” Jungkook replies, inclining his head slightly. His hand returns to yours, fingers locking firmly. “Wish I could say the same, but YN never mentions you.”

You try to control your face as you look at Jungkook. What did he just say?

Jin just grins wider. “So… she said you’re a dancer?”

“Yeah, I'm a dancer. But I’m also an artist,” Jungkook replies, chest puffing out slightly.

“Yes! You should see his work, Jin. He’s an incredibly talented painter,” you add, and the corner of Jungkook’s mouth twitches, like he’s holding back a smile. “I might actually have a photo on my phone…”

Jungkook doesn’t give you any time to check. “Y’know, I think I’ve heard of you. You’re a cook, right? I think my halmeoni watches your show.”

If Jungkook intended that as a jab, Jin shows no sign that he felt it. “Well, technically, I’m a chef. And a restaurateur. But yes, I do host a successful cooking program - actually, it’s about to be turned into a series for a major network.”

“Right. So like I said. You cook.”

Jin’s the one twitching now, his eyebrow rising slightly at Jungkook’s blasé tone. But rather than looking annoyed, Jin looks amused. Meanwhile, Jungkook is still glowering. You, though? Your smile feels a little strained as you try not to react to the snarky shots being fired off around you. Jungkook seems more rattled than you’d expected by Jin’s presence. You’ve never heard him talk like this.

“You’re right, I do cook a little,” Jin laughs. “I’d like to think I’m pretty good at it. But YN could tell you, since I’ve cooked for her a few times.” He glances at you, the sparkle in his eye you’d noted earlier back and twinkling a little too merrily for your comfort. “From what I remember, she’s been pretty satisfied every time.”

And you’d thought this couldn’t get any more awkward than running into Jin post-beej. How silly of you.

Jungkook’s fingers grip yours tighter. “And yet not satisfied enough to ever bring it up. Huh. Sounds like it was kinda forgettable.”

Jin’s eyes flicker to yours questioningly and you cringe, still struggling to come up with anything to say that could make this conversation less tense. At this point, you’d be better off wishing for the ground to open up beneath you, as useless as your brain is being.

Jin coughs. “Anyway, YN, Yoongi asked me to tell you to tell Jennie that the officiant is running a little late. Nothing to worry about!” he adds hastily upon seeing your concerned face. “Just caught in traffic. But on his way.”

Great, another thing for Jennie to stress out about. “Okay. I’ll let her know.”

Guests are starting to fill up the rows of chairs on the other side of the glass wall. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Lisa heading towards you, waving your bouquet. Thankful for the interruption, you stretch out your hand.

“Come on, we’re cutting it close on time!” she announces. “Hey, what happened to your lipstick?”

“Uh…” Rather than answer, you opt for escape, tugging on Jungkook’s hand lightly to urge him to follow you. “One sec, Lis. Come on, Jungkook, let’s find you a seat.”

“See you at the altar!” Jin calls behind you, and you wince, feeling Jungkook stiffen momentarily.

There’s an empty chair on the end of a row on the bride’s side. Jungkook folds himself into it, placing your clutch delicately on his lap.

“Um, so, we already took photos earlier, so I’ll just come find you after the ceremony.”

“Okay.” Jungkook chews on his bottom lip, nodding.

An unsettling feeling comes over you. Should you apologize for not telling him about Jin? Or say something about what just happened in the hallway? What did just happen, anyway?

Through the glass, you can see Lisa waving, pointing at her watch. Shit. Whatever happened, you’ll just have to talk about it later.

As you turn to leave, Jungkook grabs your wrist. He threads his fingers through yours, pulling you closer to him, until his lips brush your cheek. “See you soon, jagiya.” He gives you another soft smile, sunlight sparkling in his eyes. The angry scowl from the hallway is nowhere to be seen.

Your head is a mess as you follow Lisa. How had you not mentioned to Jungkook that Jin would be here? Damn, maybe he was right - maybe you really never talk about Jin.

Both men had warned you when you started dating them that they could get competitive. Apparently that meant passive aggressive disses and weirdly possessive behavior. If this is how the two of them are going to behave, you’re in for a long day.

A small room cordoned off from the rest of the rooftop restaurant has been turned into the bride’s waiting room. Jisoo’s doing a last pass on Jennie’s makeup when you arrive. She takes one look at you and reaches for a tube of lipstick sitting on the makeshift vanity.

“Babe, what happened to you? You look stressed.”

Rosé hums in agreement. “I expected you to stumble in here looking more satisfied than that. You dragged Jungkook away at lightning speed!”

“Pucker up,” Jisoo orders you, and you obey, letting her fix your lips.

“Mmm, well, I found her talking to both Jungkook and Jin in the hallway, so maybe that has something to do with it?” Lisa pipes up, eyebrow raised.

“Oh shit, did something go down?” Rosé asks, a little too excited for your taste.

“Well, actually,” you start to say, then shake your head. This is the last thing you need right now. This day is too important to be derailed by your love life. “I’m fine. Everything’s fine. Oh, but Jin did say that the officiant’s running a little late, Jennie. He’s on his way, so there’s no need to panic, but the ceremony might start a few minutes later than planned.”

“Oh, see, Jennie? I told you there was no reason to worry - now you’re not the only one who’s late!”

“Jisoo!” Lisa hisses. Rosé covers her mouth to suppress her giggles.

Jennie, who has been sitting silently since you walked in, inspecting her appearance in the makeup mirror, lets out a strangled sound that’s a cross between a laugh and a wail, and buries her face in her hands.

“Girl, please do not make me fix your makeup again,” Jisoo pleads as she crouches next to Jennie. You pull up a chair next to her and sigh, rubbing Jennie’s arm lightly.

“Ji’s lame attempts at humor aside, how are you feeling?” you ask.

Your best friend is absolutely radiant in her white gown, dark hair tumbling in gentle waves down her back as she turns to you.

“I’m still okay. I know things were a little… dramatic yesterday, but really, I’m okay today. You guys don’t have to keep asking me how I’m feeling.” Jennie clasps your hands, giving you a soft smile. “I’m excited and I’m nervous but more than all of that I’m ready to marry the love of my life.” She pauses. “I think maybe I should use the bathroom again, though. I guess I have some time.”

“I’ll help you,” Lisa volunteers, gathering Jennie’s train and following her out of the room.

You’re quiet until the door closes behind them. “Okay, was anyone else expecting her to freak out about the ceremony starting late?”

“She’s keeping it together, somehow,” Jisoo shrugs. “I think she’s still a bit in shock, honestly. But she’ll be okay.”

“She’s fine, as long as no one mentions anything about the you-know-what,” Rosé informs you, crossing her arms as she glares at Jisoo.

“You don’t have to censor yourself when she’s not in the room.” Jisoo rolls her eyes.

Your friends fall into their usual bickering, but you’re too deep in your thoughts about Jennie to bother telling them to knock it off. Maybe Jisoo’s right and she’s still adjusting. Just another reason to try to stay focused on her and make sure everything goes perfectly for her and Yoongi.

It’s the least you can do for your friend, after the day she had yesterday.

Yesterday

Friday morning brings you a sweet surprise. You weren’t expecting to wake up with Jungkook in your bed. He spent most of the night making you forget all about Taehyung’s joking offer to drop to his knees at your promise to help him, doing such a good job that you’d almost forgotten your own name, too. You’d figured he’d slip out in the middle of the night after you’d fallen asleep.

You were wrong. He’s still here, all messy bedhead and sleepy eyes, laughing quietly about alarm clocks and wrapping you up in his arms. He follows you like a puppy as you start your morning routine - into the shower, back into your room, and then into your kitchen - and honestly it’s no wonder that you decide to take the day off to spend it with him. The thought of repeating yesterday and hanging out with him all day is too tempting to refuse. Even though you’ll see him pretty much all day tomorrow at the wedding - look, if he’s down for it, then why not?

And then somehow the universe decides that your day has only been maybe a solid eight out of ten so far and decides to kick it up a few more notches, by offering you a possible life boat off the sinking ship that is your job.

Hey YN!

I know this is ridiculously fast, but my company has an opening, and I think you’d be great for the job! Long story short someone unexpectedly quit yesterday, so now we have a position we need to fill immediately. I hope it’s okay, but I’ve given your name to our VP in charge of hiring and she’d like to bring you in for an interview! She asked me to reach out and see if you’d be all right with coming in next week - I know that’s fast, but this is for a new project that’s being rushed to production so we really need someone to crunch some numbers ASAP!

Let me know if you’re interested!

Best,

Wendy

As if that’s not enough, Jungkook offers to help you practice for the interview, and suddenly you can’t see through the hearts in your eyes. Could he be any sweeter? You thank him, and he kisses you, and you melt, lost in his warmth.

Jungkook’s voice brings you back to reality. “How many more emails do you need to answer?”

“Um…” you stare at your laptop. “Let me just respond to Wendy and then I’m done.”

“Cool.” Jungkook stretches. His t-shirt rises with the motion, his Adonis belt briefly visible, and you know he’s caught your stare when he smirks. You quickly turn back to your computer, but he just wraps his arms around your shoulders, catching you in a back hug.

“I’m gonna go home and take off these dirty clothes,” he murmurs, teeth nipping your earlobe. “Come find me when you’re done. I’ll be waiting.”

“Fuck,” you breath. Jungkook laughs, obviously pleased at the effect he has on you. He’s such a tease sometimes. You’re trying to figure out how to flip the tables on him when your ringtone starts trilling.

Be still, my heaaaaart…

“Oh god, I bet that’s my boss, wanting to talk me out of taking off.” You frown as you check the screen. “Shit, it’s Jisoo. I gotta take this.”

“Hey, do you have a second?” Jisoo’s voice comes through a little strained. And loud. She’s talking over some sort of high-pitched wailing. It takes you a minute to figure out that it’s a person’s voice making that sound.

“Ji! What’s going on? Wait, what’s that sound? Is that Jennie? Is she crying?”

“Yeah, that’s Jennie. She’s - she’s had - well,” Jisoo sighs. “Look, I’m over at her place because I wanted to treat her to a manicure today because I know she’s been too busy to schedule one and you know how she gets about her nails so I thought it would be a nice surprise but when I got here - oh, you know what, this is not important to the story, why am I telling you this?”

“Just get to the point, Ji!”

“I’m trying! I’m sorry, it’s been a big morning and - what?” There’s a muffled conversation happening suddenly, and you stare blankly at your computer as you wait for Jisoo to return. You don’t know what the hell is going on, but you don’t like any of it.

“Just ask her to come over!” you hear Lisa say in the background. Lisa’s at Jennie’s, too?

“I was getting to that!”

With a frustrated sigh, you try to get Jisoo’s attention. “Okay, okay, I’m coming over!”

“Do you mind? I know you have to work-”

“No, I’m not working today, I….” You pause, knowing that Jungkook’s just in the kitchen, likely able to hear everything you’re saying, not wanting to embarrass yourself by admitting that you took the day off just to be with him. “It’s a long story, I’ll explain when I get there.”

You don’t end up explaining anything once you arrive. That’s because as soon as Lisa opens Jennie’s door, she greets you with a tiny white stick bearing two little pink lines. Rosé is right behind her, beaming from ear to ear.

“Oh my god.”

“I know!” Lisa grins, throwing her hands in the air. “Baby Min, coming to you soon!”

You frown, glancing over Lisa’s shoulder. “Where is she?”

The sound of Jennie’s crying gets louder as you approach the master suite. When Lisa stops outside the bedroom closet, you grab her arm.

“Before I go in there - are those happy tears or sad tears?” You’re pretty sure you already know the answer, but you need to know what to expect.

Lisa grimaces. “Somewhere in the middle, I think.”

Jennie’s curled up beneath the hangers of clothing stuffed into the closet that she shares with Yoongi. She’s wearing one of his oversized hoodies, sniffling into the black material as Jisoo, smushed into the corner beside her, carefully untangles herself.

“Tag, you’re in,” she says, taking the hand you offer to pull her to her feet.

There’s not a lot of room for you but you squish yourself in as best you can, and immediately tuck Jennie against you. Jisoo closes the door behind you.

“Hi, babe.”

“Hi,” Jennie’s voice is wavery and small, so far from her usual confident, cheerful tone, that it hurts your heart. “Did they tell you?”

“I saw.”

Jennie settles against you, hiccuping slightly through her tears. “This wasn’t part of the plan.”

“I know.”

Jennie has been mapping out her and Yoongi’s future pretty much since the day they met. They both want to start a family, but Jennie insists that they enjoy their honeymoon period first. And she’s determined to make tenure at the school where she teaches before taking time off to have kids. She wants to have it all, but at her own pace and on her own terms. Which means timing everything out so meticulously. So carefully.

Gently, you brush a lock of hair from her wet cheek. “So… do you know how…”

Jennie sighs. “Pretty sure it was the night of my bachelorette party. I came home and Yoongi asked how it went and um, I kinda couldn’t stop talking about my lap dance.” Your friend’s face flushes at the memory, and you bite back a grin. You’ll have to tell Jungkook he left a lasting impression. “And Yoongi… well, you know how he gets competitive sometimes?”

You can’t help it. You burst into laughter.

“Yoongi gave you a lap dance?!”

“God, I wish I’d seen that,” Jisoo says from the other side of the closet door. “I’d love to know if he’s got moves.”

In all your years of friendship, you’d never known Yoongi to do more than a simple side-shuffle whenever Jennie would drag him onto a dance floor. The thought of him performing an erotic lapdance is too much for even your overactive imagination to conceive.

Jennie just smiles to herself. “Believe me, he does.” She glances at you shyly. “He’d kill me for telling you this but… you don’t think Jin choreographed his routine all by himself, do you?” she laughs, referring to the night Jin danced for you, and your brain breaks a little trying to picture Yoongi doing the same moves.

The closet door flies open.

“I’m gonna need to hear every last detail about that,” Lisa proclaims.

“Same,” Rosé adds, and Jennie laughs for the first time since you arrived. She sits up, dabbing at her face with the sleeves of Yoongi’s hoodie.

“Ugh, my face is going to be so puffy tomorrow.”

“No, it won’t. We’ll take care of you,” Jisoo promises, already on her feet. “I’ll go raid your kitchen for supplies. Do you have any cucumbers?” She’s gone before Jennie can answer, Lisa scrambling behind her.

“Anyway… we always use protection, but you know how they say it’s not 100% foolproof? Yeah, turns out they’re telling the truth.” She stares at her sweater paws, suddenly forlorn again, and you give her a tight squeeze.

“I’m sorry, babe. I know this is… a lot.”

“Yeah. And I just…” You don’t say anything, just wait patiently until she finds the words she’s searching for. “I just feel like a failure. You know? Like, it’s so stupid, but…” She shrugs. “I feel like everything’s ruined now.”

“Oh, Jennie, no!” Wrapping both arms around her, you sigh. “Accidents happen. That’s life! You can make all the plans you want but you can’t control everything. There’s chaos everywhere! And even if you do your best to avoid it, sometimes it gets through. And it’s not always bad! I mean… look at me and Jungkook. He came out of nowhere. I didn’t plan to start dating him and Jin at the same time. I didn’t know it was gonna get serious. I thought…” you trail off, realizing you’re making it about yourself. “Sorry, this is not about me.”

“No, it’s ok, finish your thought. Tangents and diversions are good right now,” Jennie informs you.

You bite your lip, weighing your words. “Back when Jin and I met, when you introduced us, I just thought… this is it. This is my chance to have what Jennie and Yoongi have. Something real. Something safe and steady.”

Jennie nods, encouraging you to continue.

“And then Jungkook… he’d always been so close but I’d never gotten to know him. He came in and opened my eyes to another possibility. To something exciting and different and - and passionate, and, oh god, I sound like a shitty romance novel, don’t I?” Burying your face in your hands, you laugh.

“No, go on!!” Rosé says.

“I’m just trying to say - plans don’t always work out. But that doesn’t mean you’re a failure. And sometimes, the unexpected can be exactly what you want. Or need.”

Jennie sighs, and you can feel her relaxing against you for the first time since you sat down beside her.

“I hear what you’re saying. And I’d like to believe that. It’s just… really difficult for me to accept that I’m not always in control.”

“That’s a fucking mood,” Jisoo says, returning from the kitchen with a mug of tea in her hand. Lisa carries a bowl of some sort of cucumber concoction, and the two of them settle on the floor outside the closet.

Rosé scoots across the carpet until she’s close enough to take one of Jennie’s hands. “Back to your chaos, if that’s what we’re calling it. Is it too soon to ask you what you’re gonna do?”

Jennie groans, pulling the oversized hood over her head.

“I’m gonna take that as a yes.”

“I just want to get through the wedding,” Jennie states, voice muffled by the soft fabric. “I’m getting married tomorrow! And I don’t want anything to - to ruin it. Or make things weird, or more stressful than they already are. I mean, fuck, I think my halmeoni is already upset that we’re not doing a traditional wedding. Imagine if she finds out I got knocked up before marriage!”

“Okay, then we’ll make sure no one finds out tomorrow.” Lisa glances at everyone and you all nod in a wordless pact. “We’ll do whatever it takes to make sure your day is as perfect as you’ve planned. You know we will!”

“Does Yoongi know?”

Jennie peels her hood back to look at you. She shakes her head.

“I took the test this morning, after he left for work. I’ve been so busy lately that I didn’t even realize I was late until today! Ji was the first person to find out when she showed up, and then she called the rest of you.” She pauses, fiddling with her sleeves again. “I think I’m going to wait to tell him until after the wedding. We’ll need to have a serious talk, and there’s too much going on right now.” She glances up. “Is that - do you think that’s okay?”

Once again, she seems lost. This time, when you go in for a hug, Rosé joins you.

“Babe, you can tell him whenever you’re ready! It’s your body.”

“Yeah, but we’re in this together…”

“And you’ll be in it together still, no matter if you tell him today or tomorrow or next week.” Jisoo declares. She holds the mug out to Jennie. “And we’ll be here too.”

“Yes. Maybe this is good chaos. Maybe it’s bad. It’s up to you to decide how to react - how to move forward. Whatever you decide, you know we’ll be by your side the whole time,” you declare, your sentiments echoed by the other girls.

Jennie blows lightly on the steaming drink. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you guys,” she says, choking up slightly, and everyone else starts talking at once.

“You deserve the world!” Rosé coos.

Lisa shakes her head. “We’re the lucky ones, babe, having you in our lives!”

“How’m I gonna depuff your face if you keep crying?” Jisoo tuts.

You just rise to your feet, laughing. “Come on. Ji said something about manicures earlier. Let us pamper you today, so you’re ready to knock Yoongi off his apparently very talented feet tomorrow.”

NOW

The officiant is only a few minutes late, and the ceremony goes off without a single hitch. You and the other bridesmaids join the groomsmen flanking Yoongi at the altar. In addition to Jin, there’s Yoongi’s brother Geum-jae, and two of his friends from work, Yi-jeong and Woosung.

As a string quartet plays the wedding march, Jennie walks down the aisle, beaming more brightly than the sun, and you catch a glimpse of Yoongi’s face, bearing such an openly reverent expression that it makes your eyes flood with tears. The officiant begins his speech, and Jennie and Yoongi stare at one another as if the rest of the world has fallen away, with nothing left but the two of them and their love.

Watching them almost feels like you’re intruding on a private moment, so you turn your face to the rows of guests, searching without thought for Jungkook, smiling when you find him already gazing your way. Your chest nearly buzzes as warmth spreads there, matching the glow in his eyes.

Because Jennie and Yoongi chose to take photos before the ceremony, there’s no cocktail hour after the ceremony. Instead, everyone is seated for dinner. The happy couple sits at a table for two on a small dais in the front of the room.

There are no tables large enough for the entire wedding party. There are also no seating arrangements for all of you, either. Jennie had worked very hard on the seating chart for all of the guests except the wedding party. (“You guys figure it out. I’m tired.”) So you quickly claim a seat at one of the two empty tables left open, with Jungkook taking the spot next to you on one side and Jisoo the other, with Rosé next to her.

As the wait staff brings out the first course, you slide your chair a little closer to Jungkook. “Hey. I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you that Jin would be here.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen slightly. “Oh. Jagi, it’s ok.”

“Yeah, I’m not sure it is,” you reply. “That was not the way I wanted to introduce the two of you. It was, uh, not ideal.”

Jungkook’s silent as he sips his water. He works his bottom lip between his teeth again, and you wish you could see inside his head, could get some sense of what he’s thinking, because sitting here waiting for him to say something makes your stomach churn a bit.

Finally, he sighs, reclining back in his seat as he looks at you. “I’m sorry if I made that uncomfortable. I wasn’t expecting to see him.”

“I know. I’m sorry I didn’t mention he was part of the wedding. Truly, it slipped my mind.” Repeatedly. You bite your lip, struggling to figure out what to say. This doesn’t have to be a thing, but you also don’t want them at each other’s throats all night. “But there’s no reason it has to be weird or ruin the night. Because I’m here with you, Kookie. Not him.”

Your pulse begins to pound. It’s like you’ve just laid your heart on the line. Jungkook’s furrowed brows relax, doe eyes blinking slowly as he absorbs your words.

“Is this seat taken?”

You turn to find Jin standing with a hand on the empty chair across from you.

Jisoo lets out a tiny “Yessss, game on,” and you covertly kick her under the table.

“Uh, I think Lisa is going to -” Glancing around, you don’t finish your sentence as you spy your friend sitting with the groomsmen. Oh, right. Lisa has her eye on Yi-jeong, having basically all but explicitly called dibs that morning when she saw him in his tuxedo. You can’t really blame her. “Nevermind.”

“Please, join us,” Jungkook offers, gesturing to the table. He says it so kindly that you can’t help but gawk at him in surprise. He doesn’t meet your gaze, but his palm rests on your thigh, rubbing lightly. Reassuringly.

Your heartbeat returns to normal as Jin smiles. “Thanks.”

Despite the ceremony being so modern, Jennie and Yoongi opted for more traditional dishes for dinner. For several minutes, there’s mostly an easy silence over the table, as everyone enjoys the janchi guksu and banchan in front of them, only the noise of clinking utensils filling the air. Well, that and the sound of the servers running back and forth to the bar, trying to keep up with drink orders.

Jisoo, as usual, is the first one to break the silence.

“Okay, Jin, professional opinion on the guksu?”

Jin chews thoughtfully for a few minutes. “I think they went a little heavy on the spicy soy sauce in the broth, but the noodles are just as tender as the ones I make. Oh, but you’ve had my noodles, YN, what do you think? Do they compare?”

All eyes focus on you, including Jungkook’s. You swallow quickly. “Um, I think these are just as good! And I really like the broth, to be honest.”

“You do like it spicy,” Jungkook murmurs under his breath, quiet enough that only you can hear him, and when you glance over, you’re met with that teasing smirk of his. It’s back again. For some reason, that’s more comforting to you than Jungkook’s hand on your thigh. Your heart does a somersault. It’s getting a real workout tonight.

“You know, I never really thought about it, but it must be hard for you to eat in public. People are probably always asking you for your opinions on their food, or tips on how to make it better,” Rosé says.

Jin shrugs. “Comes with the territory, I guess. I’m not gonna complain if people value what I think - and I’m always happy to help anyone improve their skills.” He swirls his wine glass before taking a sip. “But I suppose there can be a downside, too. Sometimes I just want to enjoy a meal without being asked to provide a full critique.”

“I can understand that,” Jungkook replies. Again the other heads at the table swivel.

“You can?”

Jungkook nods. “Yeah. Like, right now, I bet you’re all expecting me to be the first on the dance floor, right?” He laughs as everyone suddenly becomes very interested in their meals. “It’s okay. That’s how it is whenever I’m out with friends. I can’t just sit at the bar and have a drink. And I definitely can’t just sway with the crowd. Everyone expects me to show off.”

“I mean, I’m definitely hoping to see you turn up,” Rosé confirms, and Jungkook laughs again, gesturing at his point being proven.

“Sure, that sounds annoying. But outside of going out with your friends, how often are you in a situation where you’re asked to dance? People stop me everywhere. When I’m out shopping. When I’m on a plane. I even once had someone ask me for deglazing tips while I was at a funeral! It’s not quite the same as being asked to do the robot at the club.” Jin shakes his head dismissively.

Rosé mumbles, “I thought you weren’t gonna complain…?”

The two men eye each other for a few seconds as you hold your breath. Then Jungkook huffs out a laugh.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. It’s not the same. That sucks, dude.”

You exhale, settling back in your seat.

Jin just hums, eyes darting back and forth between you and Jungkook before he speaks. “I suppose it’s just a small price to pay for being so successful.” He tips his wine glass back, emptying it. “Where are the servers hiding? I need a refill.”

“See, this is one of the benefits of being a financial analyst - absolutely no one wants to talk to me about what I do,” you grin.

“That’s because no one understands what you do,” Jisoo declares.

“She’s right.”

“Thanks, Rosé.”

Jisoo points her spoon at Jungkook. “Okay, but real talk, you are going to dance tonight, aren’t you? You wouldn’t deny us a show!”

“Ji, we just had an entire conversation about this!” you groan, throwing your hands up. “Can you not?”

“What? I’m just saying! The man is a born performer. Right?”

She looks at Jungkook, who nearly chokes on his wine in his haste to answer.

“Uh. Yes?”

“Right. So there’s no way you’ll leave us disappointed.”

“Let me get this straight - if Jungkook doesn’t dance for you, you’ll be disappointed?” you ask. “Hold on while I call Jimin and Taehyung real quick. Wait, sorry, I mean Min and Tae.”

“All I know is suffering,” Jisoo sighs.

“Oh, relax, Kitty Cat,” Rosé giggles, nearly doubling over at the confused look on Jin’s face.

As Jisoo loudly laments her choice of friends, Jungkook bends towards you, mouth brushing your ear.

“Don’t worry, jagi, whether or not I dance here, you can still have a private performance later. I’d never deny you.”

Heat works its way through your body as you shift in your seat, squirming slightly from the low rumble of his voice and the promise laced within. There’s a sudden prickling at the nape of your neck, that nagging sensation of someone watching you, but when you follow the feeling and glance over at Jin, he’s staring at his empty wine glass.

The tapping of a fork against stemware draws your attention to the married couple’s table. To your immense relief, Yoongi and Jennie had decided to nix the best man and maid of honor toasts, opting to say a few words themselves. Normally, Jennie does all the talking for the pair, but to your surprise, Yoongi rises to his feet, and the room falls silent.

“Jennie and I wanted to take a moment to thank all of you for coming. It means the world to us that you took the time out of your busy lives to celebrate with us.” He glances down at his bride, who smiles back, and Yoongi’s gummy grin gets bigger than you’ve ever seen it. “As you all know, Jennie and I have been together since our first year of college. We’ve been through so much together - college, grad school, finding jobs, losing jobs, moving from apartment to apartment - but we weathered it all, because we always had each other.”

Jennie’s cheeks are wet as she smiles at her husband. Yoongi takes her hand.

“Jennie, I don’t know what life has to throw at us yet, but I want you to know that I’m never worried, as long as I have you by my side.” He presses a kiss to the back of her hand, and there’s a chorus of awwww’s from the guests, including yourself. Jisoo rolls her eyes, but they’re already spilling over with tears, and you poke her in the side as she laughs.

“Here’s to you, my love. And to all of you with us here tonight. We can’t thank you enough for your love and support. Geonbae!” He raises his glass.

“Cheers!” his brother shouts, and the cry is echoed around the room as everyone raises their glasses to the couple.

Just when you think you couldn’t be happier, once again you feel a hand slip into yours, pressing palm to palm, fingers threading through. Jungkook doesn’t say a word, too busy clinking his drink against everyone else’s, but his hand tightens around yours when you look at him, and you feel as though you could float right through the ceiling if it weren’t for his strong grip.

To think that you nearly hadn’t asked him to come here with you. What a mistake that would’ve been. Thank god you’d ignored the constant fear and doubt in your head and listened only to the steady sureness of your heart.

You’re getting better at it.

YESTERDAY

After you coax her out of the closet, you and your friends turn Jennie’s apartment into a mini spa, trying to help the bride-to-be relax. By mid-afternoon, as everyone is giving each other manicures, you realize that the window on your day with Jungkook is swiftly closing, so you text him to let him know you won’t be coming home any time soon.

Not long after that, the door to Jennie’s apartment opens, and Yoongi walks in, trailed by Jin.

Jennie greets her fiancé happily, hugging him with her hands held straight out so as not to smudge her pretty new pink tips. “You’re home early!”

“Couldn’t focus. Decided to call it a day.” As ever, Yoongi seems completely unfazed to see you and your friends at his apartment. Sometimes you wonder what it would take to ruffle him. Probably something extreme like the zombie apocalypse. “Figured I’d grab my stuff and then get some dinner with Jin.”

Although they weren’t holding to every tradition, Jennie had insisted that they spend the night before the wedding apart. So Yoongi would be crashing at Jin’s tonight.

Jin nods at the sound of his name. “By ‘get some dinner’, he means ‘take advantage of his friend’s restaurant and score a free meal.’”

“As if you weren’t the one who offered,” Yoongi drawls, ignoring Jin’s squeaky chuckling.

“Sounds good, baby,” Jennie smiles as Yoongi presses a kiss to her cheek before he shuffles down the hallway towards their bedroom. “Do you guys wanna get some takeout?”

While Lisa, Rosé, and Jennie argue about what they feel like eating, Jin catches your eye. “Hey, you got a second?” He jerks his head towards Jennie’s kitchen. Rising from the couch, you follow, closing the door behind you.

“What’s u-oh!” Your question becomes an exclamation when Jin suddenly pulls you in for a hug, long arms wrapping around your waist as he holds you tight.

“Just wanted to get you alone,” he says, nose brushing yours as he smiles. “Hi.”

This is where the butterflies should come in. Standing this close to this incredible specimen of a man, this paragon of perfection, would normally send them flittering through you. Shivers should be running down your spine. Any number of excited reactions should be happening right now.

Right.

Now.

Except… they’re not.

“Hi,” you echo, grinning a bit weakly. Jin doesn’t seem to notice anything wrong with your smile, locking his hands behind your back.

“I heard you got some good news today.”

Your eyes widen as your stomach goes into freefall.

“You know?”

How? How on earth could he know about Jennie being pregnant?? Shit, did Lisa leave the pee stick out somewhere? Jisoo told her to put it -

“Of course I know! It’s my show.”

“It’s your show?” What the fuck does that mean??

Jin honks in delighted laughter at your obvious confusion. “The interview Wendy emailed you about - that’s for my show! The one Nosh picked up?”

The room tilts as gravity returns your stomach to normal. “Oh! Oh, wow!” Of course. The new project Wendy had referenced - it was Jin’s cooking show! “Wait, so we might be working together?”

“Yes! Er, maybe! I don’t know how closely or whatever, but basically, the Nosh execs told me Wendy’s firm is responsible for budgeting and figuring out revenue streams and - and that’s really all I remember, sorry.” He laughs. “Most of what they said went straight over my head, to be honest. But I spoke to her on a conference call today and she told me they had an open position for the team that’s assigned to my show, and she’d asked you to interview.”

“Wow, that’s really…” you trail off, lost in thought. “Isn’t it… the other night at the networking reception, weren’t you saying it might be a travel show?” You have a vague memory of Jin telling you what he wanted to do with his show if it got picked up by a network.

“That’s right. I pitched it as an exploration of local delicacies that often get overlooked by tourists. I’ll be going around the country, visiting tiny, off the beaten path restaurants and bars, and learning how to make their favorite dishes.”

Traveling for work. That was one of the perks Wendy had rattled off when she’d given you the sales pitch for her company. So, if you got this job, did that mean you’d be traveling with Jin?

Your mind is already wandering, thinking about what this new job might entail, when Jin brings a hand up to cup your face. His thumb traces your jawline.

“Wouldn’t it be amazing? You and I, on the road together. Me, discovering new meals to cook for you…” His voice drops, a low murmur meant only for you to hear. “Maybe picking up some new dance moves to show off…”

He rolls his hips slightly, jostling you right out of your tumultuous thoughts.

“Doesn’t that sound good?”

“It does,” you reply, mouth moving on autopilot, not waiting for your head to decide if it agrees.

“I know I haven’t had the time to take you out properly, and I’m sorry for that. But this is my chance to show you that I’m still in this.” He sucks in a deep breath. “I like you. And I’m hoping it’s not too late for me to say that.”

If this were a romantic movie, the music would swell now, strings soaring as he tips your mouth towards his. It’s a perfect moment, lush lips caressing yours, sweet and unhurried, lingering like he doesn’t care if anyone else walks in.

It’s a perfect moment, for sure. Just, not for you.

“Jin,” you begin, stepping out of his embrace, “I need to tell you something.”

A/N Pt. 2: To be continued!! (Sorry, the chapter was getting a bit long and this felt like a natural stopping point… what do we think so far??)

Masterlist 💜 Find me on AO3 💜

#bts smut #jungkook smut #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you #jeon jungkook smut #fic: paradise #thebtswritersclub #bangtantheatrenet #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic

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svngiem-remade · 1 year

Text

#! — MTL TO HAVE S*X THE LONGEST | in SKZ

pairing. OT8!skz + gn!reader

genre. smut

warnings. explicit sexual content, MDNI!

wc. 448

synopsis. just assumptions on how long they'd have sex!

listed from most to least:

hwang hyunjin

the biggest romantic you'll ever come across. loves taking his sweet time making love to his s/o while whispering soft praises, kissing whatever he can reach and treating them as if they were made of glass. would rather not have sex at all if he has to rush things, he just wants to feel as close as physically and emotionally possible to his partner, so on average, sexy time lasts around 6 hours or more, with many breaks in between to cuddle, eat and drink water.

kim seungmin

don't fight me, but he doesn't strike me as the kind of person to have sex often (twice a week tops), though when he does, he really knows how to make up for lost time. the first hour is always dedicated to making his partner cum as much as possible with his fingers only. and so so much edging. then, once his s/o is too fucked out to talk properly, he starts teasing and biting and licking them all over until the two hour mark hits and finally gives in to his desires. in short, this whole shebang lasts about 3 to 4 hours.

seo changbin

is definitely a giver, could spend hours upon hours just giving whatever his s/o wants without complaining, without asking for anything in return— though, if his anger or jealousy get triggered in any way, shape or form, the man that usually caressed his partners cheeks lovingly or stroked their hair gently, now pulled at it mercilessly, and used his big muscles to manhandle them however he wanted. needless to say, these types of sessions significantly cut sexy time short but on average, they last about an hour and a half.

lee felix

very similar to changbin, a giver as well, but i think he’d either get too emotional or too distracted by whatever is going through his mind, which prevents him from going for longer sessions, so he sticks to forty-five minute ones.

bang chan

this man could actually last pretty long if he tried sleeping enough, but with his current sleep and work schedule, sexy time lasts around half an hour on average, which, though it isn't that short, it isn't nearly as much as he'd like to.

yang jeongin & han jisung

I think the longest either of them has ever spent having sex is MAX 20/25 minutes. I don't even think they are really the relationship type, so booty calls or quickies are the best they are willing to do atm. Is this controversial?

lee minho

also a big fan of quickies, has them all the time, any time he can with his s/o or whoever he sleeps with, basically short and quick sessions throughout the whole day. If he'd WANT to, he could last the longest out of all due to his high libido, but I think he'd kinda get bored after some time? idk

please reblog, comment and like, feedback is very much appreciated, plus, I love reading your thoughts!

→ masterlist.

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fordohyon · 9 months

Text

BEAR MASCOT...

PAIRING -

Kim Woonhak x GN! Reader

SUMMARY - (not really s summary but a preview(ish) thingy??)

You sigh as you remove the heavy mascots head, a cool breeze from a fan chilling your flushed cheeks. You notice one of the basketball players standing behind you. Number 23. "I never knew you were a girl," he comments. "Or pretty."

TAGS -

fluff, fluff, and…. fluff!!

WARNING(s) -

mistaking reader for a girl, calling reader pretty, Mutual pining? maybe being too short. English isn’t my first language so please expect grammatical & spelling errors 😭

lmk if i left out anything,, Not proofread!

WORD COUNT - 1.3k

A/N - should i make this into a series??? also plz tell me if there are any grammatical errors or what. I'd also really appreciate it if you give me feedback and reblog!!

It's been precisely two hours since you donned the bear mascot outfit representing your school. You only agreed to do it because no one else volunteered and thought it might be fun. However, the experience has been anything but fun. With only 30 to 40 minutes left in the costume, you are counting down the seconds until you can take it off.

The basketball jersey, hat, and shoes the bear is wearing are decorated with your school's logo, with the school's signature colors of yellow and green accenting the trim, number, and player names. You are thankful that nobody from other sections knows it's you inside the costume; otherwise, you would feel incredibly embarrassed.

You check the time and realize that 20 minutes have already passed. You hope the game will end in the next 10 minutes or so. A few students request a picture with you, and you oblige them. Five more minutes pass, and the game is nearly over. You can’t wait to get out of the mascot outfit and take a shower.

Sweat drips down to your ankles, causing you to shiver. This is the longest you have ever worn the mascot, 2 hours and 10 minutes.

After what had seemed about an eternity, the game finally finished. All of the players and spectators collected their belongings and fled. Except for a handful who freshened up or spent time with their friends prior to heading home, unfortunately for you, Kim Woonhak happened to be one of those individuals, for whom you were growing feelings.

Once everyone had left, you finally had the chance to rid of the ludicrous costume that had caused you to sweat profusely. Though you noticed a few lingering figures in the vicinity, you chose not to approach them, assuming they were likely teachers, janitors, or guards. As you removed the mascot's head, a cool breeze struck your face. you were taken aback to find Kim fucking Woonhak standing there, his jaw dropping and eyes bulging in what appeared to be an utter shock - as though he had just witnessed the most unbelievable thing in his life. "I... I never knew you were a girl, or uhm.. uhh... pretty!" Holy shit. This is extremely mortifying. You can't even begin to express the depths of humiliation you're feeling. The fact that it involves Kim Woonhak, the person you've had the most obvious crush on since sixth grade, makes it incredibly, excruciatingly, so intensely humiliating. Is it just you or does it seem like the fan isn't working?

"Thank... you?" The words slipped out of your mouth, your voice wavering with uncertainty. As you fidgeted with the bottom half of the mascot, your hands betrayed your nervousness. The expression on your face told the whole story - a mix of embarrassment, anxiety, and the discomfort of being caught off guard. Sweat trickled down your forehead, emphasizing the redness that flushed your face, a combination of the stifling heat and the overwhelming humiliation of the moment. Woonhak's unexpected presence only intensified your unease, leaving you at a loss for words.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to catch you off guard. I-I was just checking if anyone was here since I was uh, gonna lock up the.. uhm... gym!" Woonhak stammered, his apology filled with genuine concern. He tried his best to shed the awkward tension that enveloped the air but fell short in his attempt.

"It's alright. No need to apologize," you reassured him, your voice trembling slightly. "I wasn't expecting anyone else to be here either. I assumed it was just teachers and guardians. Guess we both got caught off guard." You utter as you took hold of the lower half of the costume, a sudden chill in the air sent a shiver down your spine. The contrast between the hot and humid gym and the cooler surroundings intensified the discomfort, further adding to the already awkward situation.

Woonhak nodded in agreement, his eyes still fixed on you with an intensity that made you feel self-conscious. You tried to disregard it, but the emotion only grew stronger. You wished you could just evaporate- or at least get out of this sweaty, reeking costume.

As you struggled to remove the rest of the bear suit, Woonhak stepped forward to help. You were grateful for the gesture, but it only caused you to feel more exposed and vulnerable. You tried to focus on the task at hand, but your hands were quivering so badly that you could barely get a hold of the zipper.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, you were unburdened by the costume. You took a deep breath of fresh air and felt the calm draft wash over your sweaty skin. You turned to thank Woonhak, but he was already walking away, his head down and his hands playing with the fabric of his jersey.

You felt a pang of disappointment, but you couldn't blame him for wanting to get away from the awkward situation. You gathered your things and headed out of the gym, feeling fatigued and embarrassed. you couldn't help but replay the uncomfortable encounter in your head, wondering if things would ever be the same between you and Woonhak.

As you make your way out of the gym, you notice Woonhak and his group of friends looking at you. Just as you try to avoid their gaze, he rides up to you on his bike, beckoning you to join him. "It'll be faster if you ride with me. Don't forget to take a warm shower, wouldn't want you to catch a cold. I want to see you tomorrow!" His words catch you off guard, and you can't help but feel a mix of confusion and excitement.

Up close, Woonhak looks even better than you remembered. His endearing smile and delicate demeanor make him seem like a big teddy bear. You hesitate for a moment, recalling the events that happened earlier, but ultimately agree to ride with him. "Uh, okay," you reply, your voice tinged with nervousness. Despite your uneasiness, you're grateful for the opportunity to spend more time with him.

As Woonhak makes his way down the road on his bike, he suddenly turns to you. "Hug me, so you don't fall." he says with a smile. You're surprised by his proposal, but you don't hesitate to envelop your arms around him. As you hold on to him tightly, you feel a sense of warmth and comfort wash over you. It's as if all of your nervousness vanished at that moment, and you can't help but feel grateful for his presence. Being in his arms feels like a dream come true, and you can't help but wonder if this is the start of something special.

As you ride on his bicycle, you can't help but feel a sense of security and contentment. The wind rushes through your hair, and the relaxed breeze washes over your skin. You feel alive and free, and for the first time in a long while, Woonhak's company is enough to make you feel safe.

As you reach your destination, you shift to thank Woonhak for the ride. But before you can say anything, he leans in and plants a soft kiss on your cheek. You feel your face flush with warmth, and your heart races with excitement. You can't believe that this is happening to you - it's like something out of romance fiction.

"Thanks for the ride," you murmur, your voice barely audible. Woonhak beams at you, and you feel a sense of belonging wash over you. Maybe this is the start of something special, something you've been yearning for all your life. As you make your way back home, you can't help but let out a squeal of excitement. You're grateful for the unexpected turn of events, and you can't wait to see what the future holds. But for now, you're content just being in the moment with the person who makes your heart skip a beat.

do not translate, repost on other websites, or take my work. posts on tumblr, stay on tumblr. I do not cross-post my work unless I say so!

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visionofvoid · 1 year

Text

Messy Bed Sheets - PG10 Part Two

first and foremost, thank you all so much for the reblogs and likes. i am so so happy that you enjoyed the first part and even asked for a second part. please let me know what else you would like to see xoxo

Summary: “i made a mistake.”

Warnings: saddish yuki, a crash, sad oc and sad pierre

Pairings: pierre gasly x oc

Word count: 1354

PART ONE PART THREE

Serena was accustomed to waking up alone, well, with her dog. She was used to the feeling of being able to stretch out in her bed, take an extra five minutes to ‘rest her eyes’ before she had to get motivated for the rest of her day whether it was for work or for a day on campus. However, she was used to this feeling only when she was waking up in her own bed back in her family home just outside of Oxford in England. As far as her parents knew she was being sponsored to travel for important lectures and talks for her degree.

She was accustomed to waking up alone, except when it was in a hotel room. She knew she shouldn’t have but she loved waking up with Pierre’s arms wrapped around her chubby stomach that she was once insecure about but grew to embrace and love because of him. She knew she shouldn’t get used to it, that it would only end in her being hurt.

So, when she woke up the following morning and didn’t stay in bed for an extra five minutes like she usually would. No, instead she was up before her first initial alarm, already in the shower, her bags already packed. She needed to put as much distance between herself and Pierre as possible. She needed to get back home, get back into her studies and forget about him.

How foolish she was to think that he could ever want someone like her for something other than sex. She didn’t care about fast sports cars, about expensive dinners that cost more than a single unit in her degree.

Pierre looked to the door that joined the two hotel rooms and fought with every inch of his being to knock on it. He ended it, he made the call. He couldn’t go back against his word, especially when she clearly didn’t feel the same. He didn’t sleep well at all that night; tossing and turning between the sheets, her perfume mixed in with the sweet smell of her natural scent reminding him that she was not there, not in his arms snoring away like she usually did.

He listened as she moved around in the room next door, knowing she left when the heavy front door sounded out through the two rooms. He should do some big, grand romantic gesture like run after her, try and convince her that he can separate his feelings and continue their arrangement even if it mean he still had her in his life but instead he sat on the edge of his bed, time ticking by before his team messaged him to meet in the lobby.

The day passed fairly slowly for the driver and the student. Pierre was stuck going between interviews, filming things for social media and signing different items before being rushed to his green room where the race would start in just a few more hours. He distanced himself from his teammate, Yuki, and from other staffers, only being present when necessary. Everyone was aware of the sudden changed behaviour but said nothing of it, Yuki even left some of his favourite snacks out for Pierre in the hopes to cheer him up.

Serena, on the other hand, had spent two extra hours at her gate waiting for her delayed plane and then two hours in the air before a further hour and a half to get through security. She was exhausted, mentally and physically and mostly because of the previous night. Her mother, who had generously picked her up from the airport, figured it was from all the ‘lectures’ she was attending. There were multiple occasions where Serena had grabbed her phone wishing to message Pierre the obligatory ‘at the airport’ or ‘just landed’ text messages but she refrained, both because of last night and because she knew he would be busy during the race day. She didn’t want to mess with his mojo.

She ignored the race that was on, her brothers and father watching on the TV in the living room. She would usually sit and watch with them but the thought of seeing Pierre would only just add salt to the wound.

Pierre had her stuck on his mind all throughout the lead up to the race. Well, to be honest there wasn’t a moment where Serena wasn’t on his mind. It could be the thought of her just saying thank you to a waiter when he took her out for dinner, complimenting an old woman on her earrings or how she was just someone he had never encountered before. She was a refreshing breath of air, a reminder of sweet normalcy, and he ruined it.

Serena sighed as she settled into the couch beside her father. She was certain they would know something was up if she didn’t join them in watching the race. Though she didn’t really care for the whole world of motorsports, she was interested in Formula One especially since the arrangement with Pierre.

It happened in a split second. One moment the AlphaTauri car was heading down the straight effortlessly and then just like that it rounded the corner and headed right into a wall. The nose of the car was totaled, the commentators yelling at the sudden crash and a safety car and red flag being issued moments later. Serena and her family watched in horror as the car burst into the flames, anxiously waiting for the driver to get out. Serena’s eyes flicked to the side of the screen, trying to figure out which driver it was, hoping it wasn-

“Pierre!”

What appears as mere seconds on the screen and for spectators feels like hours when you're in the car. You have to have your eyes peeled, listen to all comments from your mechanics, team principal and everyone behind the scenes. It happened in slow motion; first, as weirdly as it sounds, he knew he was going fast, he was working to get P4 but then the unthinkable happened. One slight misjudgement and he was no longer in control. He couldn’t figure out where he went wrong but one second he was gliding behind Alonso and the next he was heading straight for a wall. He thought of everything in the past twenty-four hours; all the interviews where he replied with short answers, answered grumpily at girlfriend speculations, didn’t laugh at Yuki trying to cheer him up, Serena. Serena fucking Riperton.

He braced himself for impact, clenching his teeth when the nose of the car finally collided with the wall. The force pushed him against all protective restraints of the car, his head jerking forward. And then he felt heat, an immense amount of heat that seemed to bring him back to his sensors.

It seemed as if everyone let out a deep sigh of relief when they watched Pierre’s slender build emerge from the wreckage whether it was through a television, online streaming service or live at the track. Formula One was no stranger to its crashes but this was like no other ever since the introduction of the halo. Everyone obviously thought of the worst when they saw it happen, but they were all relieved to see that Pierre left the scene unscathed.

They had to clean up the track before they could continue with the race. For obvious reasons Pierre was no longer in the race but was having his injuries assessed back in the green room. Serena was tuning her family out as she watched the reply of the crash on the TV, the voices of the commentators all merging into one buzzing sound. She felt as if the voices were mumbling her name but then she felt her arm being pushed, like someone was trying to grab her attention.

“Hm, what?”

“Your phone, it's buzzing. Must be important.” Serena raised an eyebrow, taking the vibrating device and then getting up to head to her room. She closed her door and slid her finger on the screen, neglecting to look at the caller.

“Hello, Serena speaking.”

“I made a mistake.”

#formula one smut #formula 1 fanfic #formula one facfic #formula one #formula 1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 smut #f1 #pierre gasly smut #pierre gasly x oc #pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly

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munsons-maiden · 2 years

Text

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝𝐬 𝐀𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟑

▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏 ▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐 ▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑

▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟒 ▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟓 ▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟔

▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟕 ▹ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟖 ▹ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟗

▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟎 ▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟏 ▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟐

First of all, thank you so much for all the support on this series so far and your patience; all the lovely comments and reblogs and asks are making my days and I’m so happy about every single one of them🖤 I hope you enjoy this chapter! - Love, Kiki 🖤

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | Eddie Munson x female reader

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | THEN. You’re the only survivor among the Mind Flayer’s victims, thanks to your friends - but after the Battle of Starcourt, you find yourself adrift in a sea of nightmares. Until an encounter in the woods with Eddie The Freak Munson offers an unexpected life line and turns your world upside down. NOW. Four months have passed since the winter night you walked out of Eddie’s trailer and his life for good. But when the mysterious headaches and nightmares return full-force and something wicked stirs in sleepy Hawkins, starting a witch hunt against Eddie, you realize that there are two things in this world that might be more persistent than you’d thought: Evil…and love. The story is told in two timelines: the past (after the Battle of Starcourt) and the present (during the events of season 4).

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 | angst with a happy ending, fluff, smut, it turned into a fix it fic for ST4

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | SMUT (you need to be 18+ to read this story!), angst with a happy ending, attempted assault, bullying, canon-typical violence

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 | ~1 hour

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | SMUT (only read if you’re 18+ years old! virgin!Eddie x virgin!reader), unprotected sex (please stay safe in real life!), oral sex (f! receiving), mentions of attempted assault, canon-typical gore & violence, blood, mentions of spiders

𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭.

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 & 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝, 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 ♡

▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏 ▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐 ▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑

▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟒 ▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟓 ▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟔

▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟕 ▹ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟖 ▹ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟗

▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟎 ▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟏 ▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟐

[Tuesday, March 26th, 1986. NOW.]

When you woke up, it was by the first tentative rays of the morning spring sun tickling your cheeks as they fell through a gap in the curtains, and for a beautiful moment, the world was perfect.

Because you’d spent the night in Eddie’s arms.

Memories flitted to the surface of your mind, mirroring the swarm of butterflies in your belly, painting a smile on your lips as happiness, pure, unfiltered happiness, surged through you like liquid sunlight at the thought of everything that had happened between Eddie and you, the faint pleasant ache between your legs testifying that it hadn’t just been a beautiful dream.

I love you, monster slayer.

Eddie’s words, spoken with the gentlest voice, the most radiant warmth in his umber eyes as he’d gazed down on you, unravelling underneath his loving touches, every caress and kiss mirroring those beautiful five words.

He knew. He knew everything, and he still hadn’t left. Not just that – he’d chosen to stay. To be with you.

And for the first time since Starcourt – and when you were being totally honest, the first time ever since Barb had gone missing – you’d had a deep, peaceful sleep void of nightmares, filled only by the steady tune of Eddie’s heartbeat against your ear, his even breaths fanning over the side of your face just as it did now upon waking.

Yes, in these beautiful, ephemeral moments in the twilight zone between sleep and waking, where there was only Eddie, your head resting on his chest, his arms slung around you as if he was scared he’d lose you if he didn’t hold you close, his soft curls tickling your cheek…there were only happiness and peace.

And then, reality came back crashing in, thunderclouds swallowing the sunlight in your heart, replacing it with terror of the storm to come.

Crimson thunderclouds.

Tonight, it would all end – either with Vecna’s death…

You couldn’t finish the thought.

Gently, you untangled yourself from Eddie’s arms, careful not to wake him, and sat up beside him, the duvet slipping from your shoulders and the cool air of Eddie’s bedroom kissing your bare skin, and you looked at Eddie beside you.

He was lying on his back, his dark curls fanned around his head on the pillow like spilled ink, and your heart squeezed in your chest with love, so much love, for this guy who’d stumbled into your life with his tattoos and his worn-leather-and-ripped-denim looks, his sunshine-smiles and chocolate eyes brimming with humour and wit and warmth, with all the kindness in his heart of gold, with music in his voice, who’d chosen to stay soft in a world made of razor-sharp edges ready to cut him. Stumbled into your life when you’d needed him most and had taken the shards of your heart in his gentle hands to put them back together, piece by tiny piece.

Holding the dark thoughts at bay for a few more blissful, calm minutes, you watched him in his slumber. Eddie’s features, framed by those beautiful dark curls, were serene in his sleep, illuminated by the pale light of dawn creeping over the sky outside, a soft pink blush chasing away the night to herald another beautiful spring day. So utterly opposing what lay ahead once the sun dipped below the western sky by the end of day, the horrors nightfall would bring.

If only you could freeze this moment, pause it like a VHS tape. Catch it like fireflies in a jar and keep it forever.

You allowed yourself to admire the way his long, dark lashes rested on his pale cheeks, the softest smile which played on his plush lips, evoking the memory of those lips brushing against your skin, all those kisses you’d shared last night. With a soft smile of your own, you reached out, fingertips gently grazing the side of his face to brush away a few stray curls, tracing the line of his jaw and watching this soft smile on his lips deepen underneath your feathery caress.

Leaning a little closer, your other hand splayed on the mattress to support your weight, you gently swiped a few curls of his bangs aside to inspect the cut on his brow, the surprisingly clean stitches you’d managed to place with that fish hook, before your eyes wandered over the bruise on his temple and the matching one on his jaw, their color having darkened from a deep purple into an almost-black that stood out against Eddie’s pale skin. You swallowed back the rage flaring in your chest at the memory of Eddie, hunched in Andy Warren’s grip, Jason hovering over him with his fists and his crowbar, and your hatred for Jason rose to a tide to sweep you away before you managed to tamp it down again.

Even then, Eddie had thrown away the oar, his only means of fighting back, for the slim chance that Jason would actually let you go.

Pushing the memory aside, you traced the tip of your index finger over Eddie’s brow, the frown of worry which had settled there over the past few days smoothed out by the serenity of sleep, and down the line of his nose, over his lips, still caught in this little smile before you gently rested your hand on the demon tattoo adorning his chest, relishing the strong, steady beat of Eddie’s heart as it fluttered against your palm with every slow rise and fall of his chest.

Watching him, still deep in his sleep, there was a lump in your throat as you fought against your tears – of joy, of love, and of fear. All-consuming fear of the light fading from those beautiful umber eyes, of the music of his voice forever muted and the heart of gold forever stilling.

“And when I’m done with you, taken back what is mine – I’ll take your songbird. I’ll break him, bone by bone. And when I’m done, I’ll shatter his mind the way you shattered his heart, little thief. And maybe then…I’ll put him out of his misery.”

For a heartbeat, you wondered if there was still some Special K hidden somewhere in this room…and whether it would be enough to knock him out for long enough to put him into a car and drive him far, far away from Hawkins and the pulsing gate in the room over and from the human-turned-monster that ruled over life and death like an ancient wrathful god, out for Eddie’s blood. Away, before Eddie would pay the price for what you’d stolen.

A single dose of Special K. You could do it.

You wondered if Eddie would hate you, if you did.

It was a price you’d be willing to pay if it meant the heart fluttering against your palm wouldn’t cease its beating tonight.

But you knew you could never do that to Eddie, take away his choices. That was what monsters did. People like Jason, and people like Henry Creel.

But there were still twelve hours left. Twelve hours until the sun would set and you would all go back to the place of eternal freezing darkness and death to hunt its self-proclaimed god and set an end to all of this.

Twelve hours to learn how to wield the power you’d stolen.

Twelve hours to convince Eddie to leave. To save himself and run.

You had to make them count.

“I’ve been waiting for, like, five whole minutes to be kissed awake and it hasn’t happened yet,” Eddie mumbled, his eyes blinking open, and his smile turned into a wide beam as, with a swift motion, he grabbed your arms and flipped you on your back so he was hovering on top of you, drawing a surprised little giggle from your lips as your fingers carded through his curls to pull him down for a kiss, as sweet as cotton candy, and fireworks burst in your chest as you felt Eddie smile against your lips, before he pulled away, eyes glittering.

“Good morning, monster slayer.” His voice was raspy with sleep.

“Good morning, Eddie,” you whispered back.

He leaned down, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck and stealing another string of giggles from you as his curls tickled your bare skin – and a surprised little gasp at the sensation of his erection grazing your lower belly. He snickered, “Uh, yeah. Sorry. You made skin contact.”

With a teasing little smirk, you shimmied a little upwards on the mattress, until his tip grazed that sweet spot between your legs just perfectly.

If the sensation of it hadn’t already made need for him blaze in your core, the sweet little moan Eddie was trying hard – and failing – to suppress would have done the job, and you could feel your own arousal starting to coat the inside of your thighs – before Eddie pulled away a little, his smile soft and a little bewildered as he gazed down at you, as if he still had trouble believing this was real.

“First things first. Did you sleep well?”, he whispered.

“Never better,” you murmured. It was the truth.

The morning after, as far as you’d heard from Nancy and other girls whispering about their own experiences, was supposed to be awkward – but it wasn’t. Not at all. On the contrary; it felt as natural as it had felt last night. No awkward silence, no surge of embarrassment. Just that giddy, sparkling happiness in your chest as you gazed up at Eddie, hovering above you, his elbows resting on both sides of your head to support his weight, the two of you still naked with the bedsheets tangled around you. The guitar pick dangling from his neck rested on your collarbone, and you traced the smooth plastic edges with your fingertips.

Eddie’s umber eyes, painted the color of whiskey by the first tentative beams of the rising sun filtering through the window, scanned your face as a soft, timid smile curved his lips, one hand snaking beneath the bedsheets to stroke over your side, making you arch into his touch.

“How…uh. How are you feeling?”

Terrified of what’s to come. You silenced that inner whisper, determined not to let it ruin this perfect moment of happiness you shared with Eddie after so many months of pain and heartbreak, locking yourself in this perfect little bubble for a moment longer.

“Like I fell down from the ceiling yesterday,” you chuckled playfully.

You’d both fallen asleep in a matter of minutes last night, still tangled up with each other and immersed in your afterglow, the sleepless nights prior taking their toll and knocking you out before you could even think about round two.

“That’s not what I meant,” he clarified softly, scanning you closely. “I’m…I didn’t hurt you or something, last night, right? I didn’t do anything wrong, or –“

“Eddie, I’m fine,” you whispered with a smile, heart squeezing in your chest at the worry shining in his eyes, “I’m more than fine. You didn’t hurt me. Promise.” You smile widened into a grin. “Quite the opposite, actually. When this is over, I’m planning to lock you in this very bedroom for the next few months and let you have your way with me.”

“Freaky,” Eddie teased, eyes sparking, before he nuzzled his nose against the side of your neck, teeth gently grazing your skin, “Maybe you’re the perv and I’m the slut.”

You laughed, a soft sound stirring Eddie’s dark curls which tickled your face as shivers raced down your spine at the sensation of his lips grazing your pulse point when he whispered, “I can’t believe this is real. Shit.” He pulled away to give you the most radiant smile. “You know you’ve been the sole star of all of my daydream scenarios ever since I first saw you, right?” There was a soft blush dusting his cheeks as he quickly added, “Jesus Christ I sound like the most deranged perverted debauchee in existence but I swear they were all innocent daydreams.”

You giggled. “Okay, you need to tell me about those.”

“I dunno if that would take away the air of mystery I’ve managed to shroud myself in,” Eddie teased with a grimace, making you giggle even harder.

“You gotta promise not to laugh.”

“Never,” you breathed solemnly, before Eddie pressed another delicate kiss to the corner of your lips, crinkled with your smile.

“I got a feeling you’re absolutely gonna laugh,” Eddie snickered, and you placed your hands on his chest – his very bare chest, you couldn’t get over that for some reason and you were pretty sure you never would, no matter how many times you saw him naked – and pushed him off, gently flipping the two of you so you were straddling him, and his eyes glittered as he said, “It’s hard to focus on anything else right now but the fact that you’re naked and on top of me and it didn’t just accidentally happen.”

You giggled. “How does one accidentally land naked on top of someone else?”

“Dunno,” Eddie grinned, his hands settling on your hips, “But my point is that it’s not accidental.”

Biting your lip, you ground down a little, marvelling at the way Eddie’s soft lips parted and his eyes fluttered close at the sensation, the soft moan tumbling from him, swallowed as you leaned down to kiss him.

“Are you going to tell me now?”, you whispered against his lips, “Because the level of suspension is killing me.”

“Wait, is that your way of pressuring me, monster slayer? ‘Cause if it is, then nope. Gotta try harder.”

You laughed, pulling away from the kiss, your hands raking through his curls, fanned out on the pillow around his head like a dark crown as Eddie gently traced his fingertips up your sides, watching you melt into the touch.

“’Kay, so. Sometime after Jell-O-gate, I think it was somewhere around my second senior year, I started writing you into my D&D campaigns.” He grasped one of your hands, gently placing a kiss on your knuckles as you gaped at him.

“You…wait, what?”

“Yeah,” he let out a nervous little chuckle, “Kinda weird, but there was always some mythical pretty woman my players encountered in times of need to guide them back on the right path of the story…in my mind, that was always you.”

The image of how he’d been sitting on this very bed, his campaign notebook in his lap, scribbling down notes, tongue poking out like always when he focused on something as he wrote you into his treasured campaigns filled you with the warmth of a thousand suns.

“Did your players never notice?”

Eddie laughed. “They did. One day Gareth, that goddamn busybody, asked if she was inspired by someone real.”

“What did you reply?”

“That Gareth The Great shall be called Gareth The Tattletale if he kept asking his Dungeon Master questions outside of the game while in the game.”

At the sudden timidness in Eddie’s gaze, the sweet confession, there were tears pricking your eyes, making Eddie’s umber eyes swim in front of your vision as he murmured, “Hey, what’s wrong, sweetheart?”, letting go of your hand to gently cup your cheek.

“I missed you,” you whispered. “I missed you so fucking much, Eddie. Every day. So much it hurt.”

“I missed you too, monster slayer.” Eddie’s voice was a croak, strained with his own emotions now, and when you blinked back the tears and his umber eyes came into focus again, they were brimming with his own unshed tears.

“I went to our clearing, the week after,” you said, continuing to card your hands through the curls falling around his face, letting the soft strands glide through your fingers. “The Saturday of the meteor shower.”

“You…you did?”

“Yeah. I didn’t get to see a single shooting star because I was just sobbing my heart out but…”

“I watched the shooting stars, too,” Eddie said softly. “On the roof of my trailer. While also, um. Sobbing my heart out.”

“The way I treated you…I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Eddie’s thumb brushed over your cheekbone, his gaze far away all of a sudden. “I’m not gonna lie, it…was messed-up.” He chewed his bottom lip, before he said softly, “Part of me always wanted to believe there was another explanation for why you said all this shit. And I was right – but the other part…still believes it. That I’m just the freak good enough for a little adventure until you move on. ‘Cause that’s what I’ve always been scared of, from the moment you stepped into my trailer to buy drugs.”

“Eddie, please –“

“No, let me – I gotta get this off my chest. It broke me. That night I didn’t just lose the girl I love more than anything in this goddamn world, but…I lost my best friend, too.”

You swallowed against the lump constricting your throat. “I was your best friend?”

“You are,” Eddie whispered gently, “Shit, you still are my best friend in the whole world.”

“I meant none of the horrible things I said, Eddie. They were lies. I knew…I knew they’d hurt you enough to keep you away from me. I thought if I could make you hate me…doesn’t matter. What I’m trying to say is, I wanted do it that night,” you whispered, and Eddie frowned in confusion before you clarified softly, “Go all the way, I mean, with you. And I would have shouted it from the fucking rooftops the Monday after that Eddie Munson is my boyfriend. I wouldn’t have kept being with you a secret, not for a single second. And I wouldn’t have cared what Jason and the rest of the Hawkins High bullies and gossips would have said. I need you to know that. I would have proudly sported a Hellfire Club shirt and joined your table if you’d invited me, and there wouldn’t have been a single moment of being embarrassed to be with you. I would have proudly walked those halls letting everyone know that I’m Eddie Munson’s girl.”

“I never hated you,” Eddie whispered. “I couldn’t.”

You swallowed, fighting your tears once more. “You’re mine, too, you know. Best friend in the world, I mean,” you said softly as Eddie sat up, your hands locking at the nape of his neck.

There was a beat of silence before Eddie gave you a playful smirk. “Please don’t ever tell that to Wheeler and her guns.”

You giggled. “Nance was the one who told me to hold on to you, so I don’t think you need to worry about that.”

“Wait, she did?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“’Cause your friend Robin gave me a similar pep-talk after she knocked me off my bike in the Upside Down.”

“She did what?”

“Yeah, it was an accident. I, uh, learned pretty quickly that one needs a certain safety radius around her,” Eddie chuckled. “Wouldn’t be surprised if you told me she killed a few Demogorgons simply by accident.”

You laughed. “Okay, yeah, sounds like Robin. Don’t be fooled, though, she’s a genius. She cracked a secret Russian code all by herself.”

Only then did you realize that you’d slept through the night. “Wait, Nance and Steve wanted to take the second shift.”

Eddie cocked an eyebrow. “Come on, we both know there was never supposed to be a second shift. If those gates actually needed guarding, we would’ve split up to guard the other two as well.” His grin widened. “Buckley and Wheeler were playing matchmaker. And I owe those ladies my life now.”

“I guess they weren’t as subtle as they thought they were.”

“It’s…kinda overwhelming to be honest,” Eddie mused, gently taking your hand in his and starting to trace the lines in your palm, his eyes downcast to follow the path of his fingertips. “I guess I’m not used to people not…you know. Assuming I’m the Devil himself. Outside of Hellfire, I mean. That’s kinda…new. Them not judging me.”

“You’re part of the monster hunter family now,” you murmured, your heart squeezing in your chest at the emotions swirling in Eddie’s umber eyes, before you added softly, “I mean, Robin and Nance became presidents of the Eddie-Munson-fan club the moment you jumped onto that table in the cafeteria last year to shut Jason up. And Dustin already worships the ground you walk on. He’d follow you into Mordor. And so would I. But you know that already.”

His voice was strained when he teased, “You don’t even know what Mordor is.”

“Actually, I do. I read the damn books. All three of them.”

Eddie blinked, his mouth falling open in surprise. “You…you read the Lord of The Rings? Wha- when?!”

“Last year,” you breathed. “After…you know. After that night. I knew they were your favorites and…I don’t know. Like I said, I missed you.”

There was a beat of silence as Eddie sniffled, resting his forehead against yours, too overwhelmed to speak.

There was one more thing you needed to ask.

“Eddie?”

“Hm?”

“I was wondering…you never talk about your parents.”

He raised his head, surprised by the sudden change in topic as you chewed the inside of your cheek, waiting for him to come up with a reply.

It had always been evident that, whatever the story behind Eddie living with his uncle…it wasn’t a happy one. The scenarios your mind came up with to fill the blanks were each more horrible than the next, making your heart bleed Eddie.

You’d always wondered whether his commitment to protect all the lost little sheep, take them under his wing and give them a safe place within the community, the family, of Hellfire Club, was rooted in more than the fact that Eddie Munson had been one of those lost sheep, too. Whether he’d become the person he himself would have needed. Whether his drive to protect those who couldn’t protect himself…was rooted in the fact that nobody had been there to protect him for a long time.

When he didn’t reply, caught in his own thoughts, you added softly, “It’s okay. You don’t need to tell me now. I was just…I mean, when – if – you want to talk about your family…I’ll listen. I want to be there for you. And whatever it is…no judgement. Okay?”

“Wayne is my family,” Eddie murmured, his hands coming up to cradle your cheeks. “Those people over at the Mayfield’s trailer you rallied…yeah, I know they first did it for you, but they stayed because they believed in my innocence and wanted to help – they’re more of a family than I ever had, apart from my uncle. You’re my family, monster slayer.”

With the softest smile on his lips, Eddie leaned in for a kiss, before he murmured, “I’ll tell you everything you wanna know when this whole nightmare is over, ‘kay? But right now, I don’t wanna waste a single second I could spend kissing you, sweetheart.”

And kiss you, he did.

As if he were suffocating, and your kisses were the oxygen to keep him alive, as if the world and the monsters within – the human ones as well as the ones from other dimensions – didn’t exist, as if Hawkins wasn’t about to fall and its fate in all your hands.

And you relished his kisses, each and every single one of them; the taste of him as his tongue swirled over yours, the way his hands cradled your face to pull you closer, the way his chest pressed against yours, heartbeat to racing heartbeat as you slowly, lazily, ground your hips against his.

You couldn’t even tell who’d initiated the kiss, because Eddie’s lips on yours, the way he gently let his teeth graze your bottom lip, erased every other thought from your mind but the sensation of his kiss, the way his hardened length slid against your already soaked folds as you moved your hips a little, teasing, both your soft moans tangling in the air as his tip grazed that sweet spot at the apex of your thighs to turn your body into a life wire as your tongue ghosted across Eddie’s bottom lip –

“I AM ENTERING THE TRAILER AND I HOPE YOU GOT YOUR PANTS ON!”, Robin’s shout rang out from the front door, and you jumped away from Eddie as he let out a defeated little sigh.

“ARE YOU DRESSED?!”

“NO!”, you hollered back, cheeks burning.

“Pack your boobies back in, girl, we gotta fight Evil!”, Robin shouted from the door. “Come on!”

You groaned.

“I heard that!”, Robin hollered good-naturedly.

“You were supposed to!”

“You got about two minutes until Steve, Nance and the kids arrive here by the way!”

“Shit,” Eddie muttered, jumping out of bed. And while he rummaged through the mess in his closet, you couldn’t help but shamelessly ogle him a little more from your place on the bed. It was basically a front-row seat.

You watched the muscles of his stomach flex when he pulled on a fresh pair of boxer shorts, and it was testimony of your self-control not to jump him and follow his happy trail with your lips as you watched him shimmy into one of his ripped jeans, already grabbing one of the shirts from the chaos on the floor. It was another Hellfire Club shirt. You were starting to suspect half of his wardrobe consisted of Hellfire Club shirts. He pressed the shirt against his face and sniffled, before giving an absent-minded nod and pulling it over his head, and affection surged through you.

“What are you thinking?”, Eddie asked as he went to the bathroom, re-emerging with your clothes from last night, placing them on the bed in front of you.

“Just that if I wake up to the sight of you sniffing random shirts from your bedroom floor to see if they pass the smelling test for the rest of my days, I’ll be the luckiest girl in existence.” Your voice was as genuine as you meant it, and Eddie grinned.

He looked cute, with random stray curls sticking out around his head because he’d fallen asleep while his hair had still been wet.

“T minus sixty seconds!”, Robin shouted from her place at the Munson trailer’s front door, making you start, jumping out of bed to put on your underwear – but you flinched at the stench lingering in the fabric of the jeans and sweatshirt, rubbing the sticky material between your fingertips.

Seeing your flinch, Eddie called out, “Oh! Gimme a sec,” nearly falling over his feet as he darted towards the chest of drawers in the corner, starting to rummage through the bottom one, before he re-emerged with something that didn’t fit the rest of his clothes because it was, for one, neatly folded, and for another – it was a vibrant green.

“Is that –“

“Yeah,” Eddie said, a little shy all of a sudden, as he placed the neatly folded cheerleader skirt on the bed in front of you.

[Thursday, October 31st, 1985. THEN.]

“So, is it…bad?”

The sound of the rain pelting down on the rusty old van’s roof nearly drowned out Eddie’s voice, low and strangely timid, and your head snapped up from the pages of his biology homework in your lap to meet his gaze.

With the bell ringing for lunchbreak, it had been exactly twenty-four hours since that almost-kiss on the clearing yesterday when he’d twirled you to the tunes of I Remember You. And when you’d found the little note in Eddie’s handwriting in your locker this morning, asking if you could meet for lunchbreak at his van – since your usual spot at the clearing in the patch of woods would be too soaked in the downpour to meet up – there had been a desperate, giddy hope filling your chest that whatever Eddie wanted had something to do with said almost-kiss which had kept you awake all night. A welcome interruption to the nightmares usually doing that job.

As soon as the bell had rung for lunchbreak, you’d raced into the rain outside, giddiness in your chest like a hive of bees buzzing through your nerves – to the point where you’d used the small break between second and third period to already switch your clothes for your cheerleader uniform for the extra training Chrissy had scheduled right after lunch so you’d get to spend another extra five minutes of lunchbreak with Eddie.

And maybe, just maybe, because the cheerleader uniform looked prettier than the plain jeans you’d grabbed from your bedroom floor in your hurry this morning.

The reason for this unscheduled lunchbreak meet-up, though, had been Eddie’s rather atypical anxiety about said biology homework he’d have to hand in tomorrow.

He hadn’t commented on the almost-kiss. And by now, you were half-convinced there had never been an almost kiss. That you’d just imagined his sudden proximity, the way his gaze had flickered down to your lips for the briefest, ephemeral moment before that stupid maple leaf had robbed you of whatever would have happened next.

“I’m not done reading it yet.”

“Sorry.” He glanced away with a nervous chuckle, “I’m so fucking anxious. If it’s at least a C…one step closer to graduation –“

“Eddie.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s good,” you said. “It’s really good, okay?”

“Aren’t you cold?”

“Huh?” You followed his gaze down to your bare legs peeking out from your cheerleader skirt. “Oh. It’s warm in here, no worries.”

It really was, with Eddie sitting right beside you, close enough for you to feel the heat radiating from his body. Nearly as close as you’d been yesterday on the clearing.

“So. It’s really…okay?”, Eddie inquired once more, nodding at the biology paper in your lap. It was endearing, his sudden worry about his grades.

Placing your hand over your heart, you solemnly spoke, “Would I ever joke about the importance of algae in maritime ecosystems?”

“Of course not,” Eddie gasped in feigned shock. “How could you?”

You grinned at each other. And when your eyes flitted to the red demon face on the Hellfire Club shirt peeking out from the lapels of his leather jacket, you blurted, “You designed that yourself, did you?”

It took Eddie a heartbeat to catch up with your thought process before he followed your line of sight down to the shirt, a smile curving his lips.

“Yeah. How did you know?”

“I’ve seen enough of your doodles on various pages of schoolwork to recognize the style,” you snickered. “I like all your doodles but you’ve outdone yourself with the Hellfire shirt design.”

Something in the way Eddie smiled at you in reply, timid and proud at the same time, reminded you of the day he’d told you about playing guitar, in this very van, as he’d driven you away from Hawkins High and to the woods surrounding Lover’s Lake for a hike when the bullying had mounted in a flood of condoms spilling from your locker a few weeks ago.

“Well, the offer still stands to join us when…the situation has calmed down.”

You huffed. “Do you think it will?”

Eddie’s expression grew stern again. “I dunno, to be honest. Kinda depends on whether they’ll find a new target for their gossip. But…”

“A fallen cheerleader provides the best gossip,” you finished his sentence, and he grimaced.

“I wouldn’t have put it like that, but…yeah.” There was a beat of silence before he quietly added, “They still smear your locker with insults.”

It wasn’t a question.

“Yours, too.”

“Yeah, but I’m used to being the target of gossip. As the designated town Freak. And resident cult leader, of course,” he added with a mirthless snort.

“Imagine Jason’s face if I entered the cafeteria in a Hellfire Club shirt,” you said, and Eddie laughed; the sound ringing through the car’s interior like the happy tinkling sound of a wind chime in a summer breeze, making your heart do a weird little somersault in your chest as you watched him, the flash of his teeth, the way his smile lit up the rain-soaked autumn day. One of Eddie Munson’s smiles would have been enough to provide the whole town of Hawkins with energy for a decade.

“You know what,” you chuckled, “I’d totally do it. The week before graduation, when we’re about to be out of here anyway.”

“What – wear a Hellfire Club shirt for school?”

You grinned, and there it was again, this timid spark of…something flashing in Eddie’s beautiful dark eyes.

And the thought of wearing a Hellfire Club shirt felt…good. Openly wearing something associated with Eddie, something that somehow belonged to him. And the thought of wearing anything of his – the guitar pick necklace always dangling around his neck, or the leather jacket you couldn’t imagine him without at this point…the thought made heat bloom in your chest.

With a conspirational grin, you raised your hand, pinkie outstretched, as you announced, “If you graduate with me this year, Eddie Munson, I solemnly swear to wear a Hellfire Club shirt for the entire final week of our High School days. And for graduation.”

Now there was definitely bewilderment in Eddie’s gaze as he held yours. “You’re serious?”

“Hell yeah. Pinkie swear?”

Eddie’s grin softened as he slowly raised his hand, hooking his pinkie with yours as he held your gaze and you had a hard time trying – and failing – to ignore the sensation the fleeting touch sent through you.

“I’ll hold you to it,” he warned with a playful grin. “You’ll be one of the freaks.”

“I’d like that,” you smiled, and something shifted in Eddie’s expression as he looked at you. With bewilderment. With…marvel?

“You know what would cause even more havoc than a cheerleader wearing a Hellfire Club shirt? Eddie The Freak wearing a cheerleader skirt.”

“I could totally pull that off,” Eddie announced, his expression stern. “My ass would look great.”

“Totally.”

“I bet Jason would appreciate the sight of my hairy legs in that skirt.”

“He’ll leave Chrissy for you,” you nodded.

There was a beat of silence, before the two of you burst into laughter – but when you glanced back down at the pages of his homework, forgotten in your lap, a sudden pain jolted through your head like a clap of thunder, an echo of the migraines which had gotten better but were still persistent. It was just in time that you managed to shove the folder from your lap before the first droplets of blood spilled from your nose, right onto the fabric of your cheerleader skirt, and you let out an annoyed hiss.

“Shit,” Eddie muttered as your hands flew up to press over your nose, warm rivulets of blood running between your fingers while there was a soft rustle of fabric as Eddie shifted beside you.

“Here, let me,” he said softly, waving the bandana he usually carried in his pocket in front of your nose, and you obliged, pulling your already blood-coated hands away from your face and squeezing your eyes shut against the blinding pain in your head while Eddie gently pressed the bandana against your nose with one hand, the other tentatively settling on the back of your head.

“Can you lean your head back, monster slayer? It’ll stop faster that way.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. Gareth has chronic nosebleeds as soon as it gets cold outside, and he swears on it. The dude keeps bleeding all over his drum kit as soon as the clock strikes October. Looks not as metal as it sounds.”

You chuckled, before leaning your head back, against Eddie’s palm, supporting you as he kept the bandana pressed against your nose to catch the stream of blood.

“I don’t have a good quota with your bandanas,” you winced, and Eddie let out a soft chuckle that filled the interior of the van.

“It’s okay, I got a few of them. And you saved my biology paper. Thought it would have been pretty funny to just hand it in splattered with blood. Would nicely undermine my reputation as a servant of Satan.”

Despite the flood of blood currently spilling from your nose, you let out a little giggle.

“I’m not suffocating you with the bandana, am I?” Eddie added softly.

“It’s fine.” The blood was streaming down your throat now, leaving a biting metallic tang in your mouth and making nausea churn in your guts – but it was already slowing.

For a few moments, you stayed like this, your blood-coated hands folded in your lap while Eddie kept holding the bandana against your nose, his hand on the back of your head to support you, and all your hopes of another almost-kiss with the chance to turn into a real one was dissipated when you righted your head, Eddie’s hands sinking away from you.

Blood was coating your hands, and the green skirt of your cheerleader uniform looked like a crime scene.

“Happy Halloween,” you said drily, and Eddie chuckled.

“You got a Halloween party to attend later? You could go as the murdered cheerleader. Zero effort. It’s perfect.”

“Nope. Only cheer training in…” you threw a glance at Eddie’s wristwatch. “Fuck. Ten minutes.”

You glanced down at your skirt.

“Do you have something to change in that backpack?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, “My jeans. Though I need to scrub this out because if I don’t, the stain will stay.”

“What about that,” Eddie contemplated, tilting his head, “I’m off for today anyways, so. Uh. I’m gonna wait outside, you can stay here and switch clothes and I’m gonna scrub the blood from your skirt as soon as I’m home, ‘kay? You’ll get it back as good as new next week.”

You stared at him. “You – you mean that?”

“It’s just blood,” he shrugged, “No big deal.”

It felt like one.

“Okay,” you whispered, as Eddie jumped out into the rain, gently shutting the van’s back door behind him to give you privacy.

[Tuesday, March 26th, 1986. NOW.]

“I didn’t know how to give it back to you without making it weird to…you know. Hand you the goddamn skirt in public. And I kinda wanted to hold on to it ‘cause it felt like, I dunno, the means to one last chance to talk to you.” Your fingertips brushed over the fabric as Eddie continued, “I got the blood out and I mended the little tear at the side.”

“You mended my skirt?”

“I’m pretty good at sewing, actually. Comes in handy if you gotta save money but still wanna look metal.”

“You’re a human multitool,” you snickered, and Eddie uttered a brief laugh before you added, “So at least I can stay out of the grimy jeans today.” You threw the soot-stained sweater a sideways glance before Eddie cleared his throat, one hand still behind his back.

“Actually, I got something for you.” Eddie smiled, kneeling on the ground in front of you before he placed something in your lap. A shirt, a red demon face grinning back at you from the white fabric.

“You…wait, is that one of yours?”

“Nope,” Eddie grinned, “It’s yours. I made it for you. Your size and –“ he unfolded it, showing you the sleeves, which weren’t black like rest of the Hellfire shirts, but – “My favorite color!”, you squealed.

“Yeah. Took me eternity to find one with sleeves exactly this color,” Eddie grinned, plopping down on the edge of the mattress beside you, “I wanted to give it to you that November night, but…now’s as perfect a time as any.”

“I love it,” you whispered, happiness and love nearly overflowing in your chest, like a warm tide.

This was it. A glimpse of the life you would have if the plan succeeded.

If you defeated Vecna tonight.

Passion-filled nights and lazy mornings in bed, kisses that wouldn’t feel like every single one could be the last one. Shared laughs and companionable silence and everything in between.

Happiness.

“Now you’re the best dressed monster hunter in existence, sweetheart.”

You grinned as you jumped up and pulled the Hellfire Club shirt over your head, doing an exaggerated little twirl as you announced, “Half of Hawkins High would drop dead if they saw me in this combination of clothes.”

Eddie snickered. “Imagine you went into the cafeteria like that.”

“Straight to the Hellfire Club table,” you mused coming to stand in front of him, gently pushing him back onto the mattress as you climbed onto his lap, “Sitting on your lap.”

“Kissing me,” Eddie drawled with the most radiant grin, his hands settling on your rear, the warmth of his palms seeping through the fabric of your cheerleader skirt as he pulled you closer and you murmured, “Kissing you in the most show-stopping, pearl-clutching-inducing way anyone has ever been kissed in public.”

“How, exactly, would that look like? Just, ya know,” Eddie whispered, the tip of his nose brushing yours, as his gaze rested on your lips, “To be sure we mean the same thing.”

You leaned in, your lips not even a hair’s breadth from his –

The door flew open, and Eddie and you jumped apart to come face to face with a very breathless, very distraught Dustin.

“Seriously?! Get your asses in gear, we have a car to steal, a dark wizard to hunt and a town to safe, there’s no time to be hormonal now! Wait – why does she get different sleeves on her Hellfire shirt?”

Dustin crossed his arms in front of his chest, looking decidedly disappointed.

“’Cause she’s the Dungeon Master’s girl,” Eddie grinned, and Dustin’s blue eyes wandered from Eddie to you and back before he announced, “About time you got your shit together.”

With that, he vanished back into the living room, leaving you to cast Eddie a suspicious glance.

“A car to steal?”

“Oh. Yeah. Um, forgot to tell you the rest of the plan we made when you were still knocked out yesterday,” Eddie announced with a smile you’d have described as positively unhinged. “We’re teamed up for step one of the plan.”

***

“I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

“We. We’re doing this,” Eddie corrected, and you could practically feel his smug little smirk beneath Max’s Mike Myers mask on his face as he pried the plastic pane of the window open at the camper’s back.

You chuckled. “You know that mask is useless because you’re wearing a shirt of the exact alleged cult the for triple murder wanted Eddie Munson is the leader of?”

“You’re in on the cult now, sweetheart.”

You looked at the demon face glaring from the Hellfire shirt on your own chest.

“Team Bonnie and Clyde,” Dustin’s whisper sounded from the RT unit in your hand, the device’s soft crackle making you start, “We’re in position. You in already?”

“I don’t know, ask Mike Myers,” you quipped as Eddie gestured for you to climb through the camper’s window.

“We’re in,” Eddie said.

“Hypothetically,” you corrected, eyeing the camper’s window.

“Nearly,” Eddie added. “Stay put, we’re gonna get the sucker right to the meeting point.”

Taking the RT from your hand, Eddie did a theatrical little bow before he sunk down on one knee, hands held out to help you climb in as he drawled, “Ladies first.”

You snickered at the gleam of his eyes beneath the mask, before you stepped onto his waiting hands, hands clamped around the window’s ledge to push yourself up and through the open window, into the camper. You suppressed a little squeal when you fell onto the backseat beneath the windowsill, trying hard to avoid alerting the camper’s owners, an elderly couple currently enjoying their barbecue out front. Not much longer, you figured.

Before you could shuffle away to make room for Eddie on the backseat, he followed suit, landing right on top of you, the impact pressing the air from your lungs before he caught himself on his elbows.

For a split second, you stared at him, hovering above you.

“This needs to go,” you snickered, pulling the mask off Eddie’s head and discarding it on the camper’s floor as his mane of dark curls spilled free, falling around his flushed face, his bangs sticking up from his head as he grinned down at you.

“It’s been half an hour and you’re undressing me again? Already?”

You giggled. “Maybe the job you did last night wasn’t enough to satiate me.”

“Or,” Eddie drawled, “It was so mind-blowingly good that you’ll never get enough of me now.” He paused, worry crossing his expression as he frowned. “Wait, that was a joke, right? It was amazing for you and all? You’d tell me if –“

You silenced him with a greedy kiss, your teeth nipping his bottom lip to draw a little moan from him before you pulled away with a smile. “It was perfect.”

“Jesus Christ, monster slayer, if you keep kissing me like that, I’m gonna hotwire something else than this fucking camper.”

“I’d be much obliged,” you winked. “I was wondering whether that counts as our first date, by the way.”

Eddie snickered. “No way. You deserve something bigger than stealing a camper. For our first date, I’m gonna take you to rob a jeweler’s store.”

You laughed as Eddie rolled off of you, a hand shooting up to comb through the curls of his bangs before he pushed up the sleeves of his leather jacket and cracked his knuckles, tiptoeing towards the camper’s door to lock it.

The smile on his face was nothing short of…devious.

“Edward Munson,” you crooned, cocking an eyebrow as you came to stand beside him, “The fact that this little criminal endeavor makes you as happy as it does leaves me wondering whether there’s a personal reason as to why we’re stealing exactly this camper.”

He snickered, before he plopped down behind the wheel and pulled a pair of pliers from his pocket.

“There is. Pretty long history, but let’s just say they really don’t like me and I really don’t like them.”

With a final wink, he clamped the pliers between his lips and turned around to fumble for something beneath the dashboard, ripping away a knot of cables – and with growing fascination, you watched the focus in his eyes as he used the pliers to cut the cables, his tongue poking out in that cute way it always did when he was focusing on something, his expression stern now as he worked.

He was…skilled, you realized, his movements those of practiced ease when he discarded the pliers on the dashboard before twirling the ends of the cables between his fingertips.

But before you could find the words to inquire about his car-theft-skills, Eddie stilled mid-movement.

When his eyes found yours, all the sparks which had been glittering there only moments prior had dimmed.

“When the other dads were teaching their kids how to catch a fish or a ball or ride a bike, my old man taught me to hotwire cars,” Eddie said quietly. His vouce held a lightheartedness that didn’t reach his eyes. “Now, I swore to myself I wouldn’t wind up like he did. But I’m wanted for triple murder already, and soon, grand theft auto, so…really living up to that Munson name.”

He glanced down at the cables in his grip. “But…I promise I’m not that kind of guy. I’m…I know how it looks. Dealing drugs, stealing cars, but I promise, monster slayer, I’m…not. I’m not like that. I’m not like him.” It sounded desperate all of a sudden. As if he was scared you could see him differently now.

“I know,” you soothed, kneeling on the floor beside the driver’s seat, your hands gently wrapping around Eddie’s trembling ones, still holding the ends of the cables. Your mind was going a mile a minute with the flood of information you’d just gotten, piecing it together like a puzzle as you swallowed against your tears upon seeing the fear in Eddie’s beautiful umber eyes, wide like those of a deer in the headlights.

And you realized that this sudden swing of his mood had been brewing below the surface, gnawing at him probably from the moment he’d put on Max’s Mike Myers mask to disguise himself. Put on that mischievous grin to try and bury those fears now washed to the surface like clams after high tide.

Fear of you thinking he could be like his father, or fear that he actually was…you couldn’t tell.

“Eddie, I know you’re not that kind of guy,” you said softly, linking your fingers with his, the warm, smooth metal of his rings brushing your skin. “I know it just like you know I’m not a monster. That’s…that’s what we do. We trust each other even if we don’t trust ourselves.”

For a heartbeat, Eddie watched you, his eyes scanning yours as if he was searching for a lie.

When he didn’t find one, he whispered, “I love you so fucking much, monster slayer.”

You wanted nothing more but to settle in his lap, kiss him until he forgot all the shit he must’ve gone through before coming to live with Wayne Munson, and even afterwards, as Eddie The Freak – but there was no time.

So instead, you squeezed his hand, giving him the gentlest smile before you said, “You need to tell me the neighbor story as soon as we got this thing on the road.” And with a wink, you added, “And by the way, you’re not special. I stole cars to save Hawkins before you even knew this shithole town needed saving, Munson. You’ve got a long way to go until you reach the – how did you call it? – trespassing-break-and-enter-fraud-and-arson-monster-hunter-thing I got going on.”

Eddie grinned, relief flooding his eyes. “I’ll give my best to keep up. Though…” His smile turned mischievous again, “I gotta say, your list specifically lacks some good ol’ public indecency, monster slayer. I’ll gladly lend a hand or two with that.”

There were still remnants of this darkness in his gaze. You could tell he needed that easy banter to chase it away, the memories and dark thoughts – and you both knew you’d have to talk about what had happened to him. About his parents. But right now, Eddie needed to see you hadn’t changed your mind about him. That nothing had changed.

So you grinned. “You’re a menace.”

“I’m your menace now.”

“We could start calling you Eddie The Sappy instead of Eddie The Banished”, Dustin’s annoyed voice sounded from the RT, making you and Eddie jump apart for the second time as you screeched and Eddie hissed, “Henderson, I swear to god, if you keep interrupting my romantic moments I’m gonna banish you from the D&D table for a whole goddamn fucking year!”

“It’s not my fault none of you know how to handle an RT unit.”

“Yeah, we thought we’d make our radio presence known before you could get going at it,” Steve muttered in the background.

“In a stolen camper?”, Eddie drawled, returning to the task of hotwiring the damn thing, “Some of us have more class than that, Harrington.”

“By the way, who’s going to drive this thing?”, Robin’s voice chimed up. “Because we all remember the threat to humanity Y/N poses as soon as she’s behind a wheel.”

“I can hear you laugh, Max,” you quipped.

“I wasn’t laughing, I was praying for Eddie.”

“Well, good thing is if I’m in the car with her, she can’t run me over with it.”

“You can all walk next time,” you deadpanned, but the reply was cut off when the camper’s engine sprung to life with the roar of an ancient beast – and two faces appeared at the driver’s side window, their expressions morphing from confusion to rage as the four of you stared at each other like cats in an alleyway – before chaos broke lose.

“GO! GOGOGOGO!”, Eddie shouted, throwing himself into the passenger seat while you jumped behind the wheel, your foot finding the gas pedal the moment the two angry ex-camper-owners started slamming their fists against the window, and with screeching tires, the camper shot forwards with so much force you feared it’d catapult you right out of your seat.

“SEATBELT!”, you hollered at Eddie, a group of trashcans flying out of the way with the impact of the camper’s hood, trash flying all around the vehicle like confetti as you pushed the gas pedal – but Eddie didn’t seem fazed at all.

He was having a ball.

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie laughed, his fist slamming against the button of the radio to turn it on, and the tunes of Creedence Clearwater’s Up Around The Bend filled the vehicle’s interior with blaring volume as ripped the steering wheel around and Eddie jumped up from his seat to wave at the angry ex-camper-owners, his grin wide as he flipped them the bird.

You really needed him to tell you that story.

***

Eddie didn’t know which one would come first: the grass beneath his feet giving in because he’d worn it out with his continued pacing, or his teeth falling out because he’d been gnashing them so hard for the past hour that he was surprised his jaw hadn’t dislodged by now already.

“Man, will you fucking stop doing that,” Harrington muttered for the umpteenth time in a row now from where he was sitting on a fold-out chair beside the camper’s door, and Eddie threw him a dirty glare.

“No,” he retorted.

Two hours had passed since you’d all returned from the War Zone and Dustin had taken it upon himself to help you train as much of your power as you could in the few hours until nightfall and the probably-suicide mission ahead. The boy had banished Eddie back to the camper parked at the top of the little hill overlooking Hawkins where Harrington and Robin were busy building Molotov Cocktails, because Eddie had been ‘too much of a distraction’.

The town looked tiny from up here. Like the miniature worlds displayed in toy shops.

It almost looked peaceful from the distance. Not like the hate-filled place it actually was.

“I think your dentist won’t be happy about the teeth-gnashing, though” Robin chimed in to dissolve some of the tension.

“I’m poor, I don’t have a dentist,” Eddie quipped, “All I got is a toothbrush and a prayer.”

“You don’t – wow. Your teeth are good. Like, I don’t think I’d have teeth as white if I didn’t have a dentist, my mom always taught me to brush three minutes or else they’d fall out so naturally I doubled the number so I’m at, like, five minutes now and –“

“Robin,” Harrington groaned, and Eddie watched while you buried your face in your hands, shaking your head as Dustin gesticulated wildly.

“I don’t think I can handle this,” Eddie breathed, raking a hand through his curls as he watched you utter something on a suppressed little sob that felt like it reached right into his chest, ripped his heart out, and smashed it on the goddamn floor. “He’s making her cry again.”

“That’s kinda the point, though,” Robin replied with an apologetic little grimace.

“Dude, will you just sit down,” Steve muttered.

“When you’re done chewing off your nails,” Robin commented with a glance at Eddie, “You can go ahead with mine, I lost my manicure set last week.”

“Or you can be of actual help and fill these here with gasoline,” Steve muttered, pushing a cardboard box of empty bottles towards Eddie, the glass tinkling as the box nudged his leg.

“How many of these do we need, anyway?”, Robin interjected, her voice blurring as Eddie tried to understand the snippets of conversation the spring breeze carried up the hill – or rather, the snippets of the heated argument between you and Dustin.

“…told you it’s not working!”

“…gotta try harder, then! El can do it!”

“El was trained since birth! I’ve been prodded and poked by you for an afternoon!” Your voice was trembling.

“That’s good! Use that anger!”

“I swear, Dustin, I’m gonna –“

“Focus!”

“I’M FOCUSING!”

“Yes! That’s it! Shout at me! Let it go!”

“I don’t think it’s going too well,” Robin winced from behind Eddie, who’d resumed his pacing, before she added, “If you keep pacing like that, you’re going to walk a crop circle into the grass, Eddie. And the last thing this town needs is an alien panic on top of the satanic one.”

Steve scoffed. “It’s annoying, man.”

“I think it’s cute,” Robin protested. “Like swans. They have one partner for life, and once they mated, they’ll go absolutely feral for their mate.”

“Don’t say mated,” Steve murmured, “That sounds wrong. Nobody mated.”

“You know I can hear you, right?” Eddie turned around, his cheeks burning.

“Look at his face,” Robin quipped with a triumphant sideways glance at Steve, “Of course they mated.”

“What,” Steve muttered at Eddie, “You’re alone with her for five minutes and jump her bones?”

Eddie cocked an eyebrow. “As opposed to Steve ‘Waits Until Marriage’ Harrington?”

Robin snickered, as Eddie added, “You dragged Hawkins’ entire female population between seventeen and thirty to Skull Rock but me enjoying some alone time with my girlfriend before the goddamn apocalypse doesn’t sit right with you? What do you wanna do, fight for her honor?”

“You’d have pretty good chances with that,” Robin grinned at Eddie, “Steve doesn’t tend to win fights.”

“It gets old, Robin, it really gets old,” Steve retorted, rising from his chair to put his hands on his hips like some dad waving off his daughter for prom, before he glared at Eddie. “Are you calling me a whore, Munson?”

“Well, I’m certainly not calling you a nun, Harrington,” Eddie drawled, drawing out the last name with the smuggest smirk he could muster.

Eddie didn’t hear Steve’s reply, though, as his eyes caught on the lonely figure a bit apart from the group, and his heart sank a little in his chest.

Max had always reminded Eddie of you.

So much pain, locked up in her little heart, spilling from her haunted gaze. Shoving away the friends who so desperately wanted to help her deal with whatever shit she’d had to witness that night at Starcourt.

He’d waited for a calm moment to talk to her, and Eddie figured this was it. As calm as it would get in the near foreseeable future.

“Be right back,” he announced over his shoulder, already strolling towards the little redhead.

The trailer parks Eddie had grown up in, Little River as well as Forest Hills, were a world apart from the white picket fence neighborhoods with their perfect green laws, their trimmed rose bushes and homemade lemonade.

The kids living in those pretty houses behind the white picket fences and perfect lawns had arrived at school in shiny cars driven by mothers who spent their mornings cutting apples into neat bites and their weekends baking pies, and even at his first day at elementary school, Eddie had known that those women had never had anything to do with the glittering pixie dust his dad had been selling.

When he’d been in Little River, Louisiana, those white picket fences had always felt like the gateways to paradise. To a world where dads didn’t vanish for days on end or made deals with strange men that looked like pirates, or brought home women whose faces were plastered with paint and who took money out of his dad’s hands when they went away again.

And even after Eddie had been brought to live with Wayne, the uncle who’d done everything in his power to turn his little trailer at the edge of the woods circling Forest Hills like a green coat into a home for his nephew, Eddie had caught himself wondering about life behind these white picket fences from time to time.

Eddie wasn’t stupid.

Growing up, he’d known they were illusions, that the perfect little worlds behind them weren’t as shiny and perfect as they seemed. That no white picket fence in the world could shield you from sadness or violence.

The first time Eddie Munson had met Billy Hargrove in the woods behind the sports field for a drug deal, he hadn’t been surprised by the bruise on the other guy’s jaw. One week in Hawkins had been enough for Billy to prove he wasn’t one to step away from a fight.

He was exactly the kind of person Eddie steered clear of.

Though the second time Billy had ordered Eddie into the clearing for more weed – and this time, even a few of the prescription pills Eddie was selling for Rick from time to time – there had been another set of bruises, not yet fading. A perfect handprint around the guy’s upper arm.

“Watcha staring at, Freak,” Billy had drawled in that bored-yet-threatening low tone that made clear he was always dancing on the edge of snapping; a tone that made Eddie skittish because it reminded him so much of his old man, and Eddie had quickly averted his gaze, taken the guy’s folded fifty-dollar-bill and uttered a long, relieved exhale when he’d vanished back into the woods.

It was the day Eddie had realized that the world behind those white picket fences was probably not as different from that beyond the rusty gates of a trailer park as he’d thought.

It had taken Eddie another year to realize Billy Hargrove had a little sister. He’d been surprised to learn that the Mayfields, a single mother and her daughter, who’d moved into the trailer opposite of the Munsons in the fall of 1985, were the remainder of Billy Hargrove’s family – and that the little redhead had been with her brother, the day of the mall fire. The day he’d died.

His uncle had told him when Eddie had watched them carry the cardboard boxes with their belongings through the rusty door of their new home.

Another thing about Wayne Munson: he was a tattletale.

Eddie hadn’t told Wayne about the reason he was watching the new neighbors so closely the first few weeks after they’d moved in, which had led poor Wayne to believe Eddie was planning to set him up with Susan Hargrove, which, in return, had led to Wayne very awkwardly explaining to an equally confused Eddie that his life was busy enough without a woman making it even busier.

No, the reason Eddie had been watching the Hargrove-Mayfields so closely was that he had seen enough kids sporting patterns of bruises over time – and that he’d always looked away because that was what everyone else had always done.

But he would be damned if the little girl who’d moved in across from him, whose cornflower blue eyes always seemed haunted with whatever it was she’d had to witness in the mall fire that now made her drown out her thoughts with a pair of headphones, and whose friends from Hellfire kept telling Eddie about their friend slipping away from them…Eddie Munson would be damned if the little redhead sported a matching bruise to match those of her late stepbrother and didn’t act.

Eddie was watching her now as he drew closer. Apart from the group of her friends, as always, a lonely figure at the top of the hill, knees tucked against her chest and her hair glinting like his monster slayer’s flames in the quickly fading light beneath the steel-grey skies, her expression as dark as the rainclouds in the distance.

His gaze momentarily flitting to you and Dustin, still caught up in trying to control your powers. Eddie knew how much Max meant to you. If she was half as stubborn as you were, he wouldn’t have any luck talking her out of this stupid self-sacrificial plan, but…he had to try. Or at least, he had to make sure she was doing it for the right reasons.

He knew what guilt could do, how it could eat away at a person like rats in a trash can.

The little redhead didn’t bat an eye when Eddie sat down in the grass next to her, her eyes narrowed and focused at a point in the distance, on the horizon. It was the look of someone who wanted to be far, far away from where they currently were.

And yet, Max was the one who broke the silence before Eddie could grasp the right words to do it.

“I’m sorry I was so convinced you were a killer.”

Eddie snorted. “Shit. Thanks.”

“I went with her because I…the last girl I could have saved if I had looked closer turned into monster-chew because I didn’t look closer.”

Heather Holloway. One of the lifeguards. Dustin and you had told Eddie the whole story, when the party had found him at the boathouse.

Before he could muster a reply, though, Max went on, “I’m happy you’re back together, by the way. You’re a cute couple.”

He blinked in confusion. “Back together?”

Max scoffed. “I live opposite of you. Do you think I didn’t notice anything of whatever you two got going on last fall?”

“Uh. Yeah. Actually.”

Max cocked an eyebrow. “Seriously? First of all, you never had any girls over before, so a girl at your trailer definitely stood out like a flamingo in the middle of Main Street.”

Eddie chuckled. “Remind me not to get on your bad side, red.”

“Plus,” she went on, “She’s my friend. And you live right across from me. By the way, it was funny to see you race around in your pajamas every Saturday morning trying to tidy up while picking out outfits.”

“You watched me dress?!”

“Ew, gross. No. I watched you panic. It was entertaining.” She shrugged, her face growing serious again. “I also saw her run out of your trailer one night. Crying. And she never came back. To be honest, I hated you a little because I thought you’d broken her heart. I know how Billy…” She cut herself off, probably contemplating whether it was okay to talk shit about the dead.

But Eddie had heard the things Billy Hargrove had said about the girls he’d hooked up with. They hadn’t been nice things, and they’d made him resent the guy even more.

It was weird, Eddie thought, how you could loathe someone with all your heart yet still feel sorry for them at the same time.

“Doesn’t matter,” Max finished quietly. Eddie’s heart went out to her.

The girl’s cornflower-blue eyes were focused on something in the distance again, the ghost of a smile tugging at her lips, and when Eddie followed her line of sight to the Sinclair siblings sitting in a pair of fold-out chairs at the edge of the meadow, building makeshift-spears – Erica Sinclair uttering something undoubtedly very sarcastic that made Lucas snort – Eddie smiled.

“You know, uh, it’s my sixth goddamn year at this High School and yet I’ve never cracked the code why all the basketball players always got flocks of chicks following in their wake simply for throwing balls through laundry baskets, but witnessing one of said basketball players ignore all the female attention they get was a first even for a triple senior like me.” Eddie paused, watching Max’s absentminded expression, her gaze still trained on Lucas, gauging whether he should continue.

Looks like Eddie The Banished is turning into Eddie The Matchmaker.

He decided he’d give it a go. “Though Sinclair? I don’t even think he noticed a single shred of the new female attention directed at him ‘cause he was always busy looking for someone else.”

It wasn’t a lie. If Lucas Sinclair had noticed the giggling freshman girls suddenly seeking his proximity, he hadn’t cared, because he’d been too busy scanning the crowds for the redhead who’d broken his heart.

And if there was one thig Eddie could relate to after last November, it was a broken heart.

Though if Eddie’s girl had found her way back to him, maybe Lucas’s girl needed only a little nudge to do the same. Eddie wasn’t blind. It had taken him about five seconds to recognize the way Max was looking at Lucas. It was the same way with which Harrington still watched Nancy Wheeler.

The way Eddie had never stopped looking at you.

“Did you make it your mission to bring all the broken-up couples of this party back together while we’re hurtling towards a gruesome death, or something?”, Max quipped, throwing him a sideways glance.

Eddie snickered. “It worked for me. Though that boy’s about one smile from you away to crack and ask you out.”

Max smirked deviously. “Anyways, I’m glad you and your monster slayer are back at happy screams again.”

Eddie raised a brow. “Whoa. What do you know about happy screams, kid? Aren’t you, like, twelve?”

“I’m fifteen. And my mum got a lot of Cosmos laying around. And judging by the fact that it took you half a year to get with the one girl anyone ever saw you with, I probably know more about happy screams than you.”

“You’re kinda mean and scary, you know that, right?”, Eddie teased with a soft laugh, and for a moment, Max grinned. Eddie felt like he was getting a glimpse at the old Max Maxfield, the one from before the monsters took her old life and paid her with guilt.

She reminded Eddie so much of you.

It was weird, how the group of heroes that had taken him into their little monster hunter family were as lost as all the other little sheepies out there. As lost as him.

“You know, ah. Before I came to Hawkins, I lived with my dad,” Eddie began slowly. “In a trailer park pretty much like Forest Hills, just with stuffier temperatures. We had that rusty old camper. I’m still not sure if he stole it.” He scoffed. “My old man wasn’t a nice guy. Or a nice dad, for that matter. I always told myself I wasn’t gonna…” Eddie made a vague gesture. “Wind up like he did.”

“In jail?”

“I was gonna say, cold and uncaring, but yeah. There was one person in his life he loved, and that was himself. He wasn’t exactly the type of dad to hold your hand at the doctor’s. Shit, he never took me to a doctor when I was sick. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, was what he liked to say.” Eddie swallowed. He hated talking about his old man. About Little River, the time before Wayne had taken him in. But he had to, right now, because he needed Max to understand. So he went on, “Sometimes I hated him. Sometimes I wanted something bad to…happen to him. So he’d go away.”

At his words, Max’s head snapped up, and when Eddie ripped a few blades of grass out of the ground, twirling them between his fingertips as he tried to tamp down the tide of emotions, the ugly memories his words were digging up, he could feel her blue gaze resting on him.

He thought about you, the guilt and shame in your beautiful eyes as you’d finally told him about last summer; the way there was nothing Eddie wanted more than to take the pain away from your heart and erase the memories.

The look which had shone in your eyes yesterday when you’d told him was the twin to the expression in the little redhead’s cornflower blue ones now.

He’d always been good at reading people.

It was the look Eddie had carried in his own eyes for a long time.

Fierce protectiveness flooded him for this little girl beside him who should be thinking about boys and movie stars and all the normal High School shit fifteen-year-old girls should be dealing with, instead of the monster that had taken the stepbrother who’d made her life living hell.

“Even with seven years I’d realized that the shit he was doing was bad. And definitely against the law. And sometimes I wanted him to get caught. Or just…I dunno. Disappear.” Eddie cleared his throat, brushing the blades of grass away from his hands. “One day the cops were at the door of our camper, with a search warrant and all. Before letting them in, I remember how my dad turned to me and told me to get rid of his…um.” He threw the girl a nervous sideways glance. Could he say cocaine in front of a fifteen-years-old? “His stash,” he finished. “He wanted me to get rid of his stash and I…didn’t. I was terrified by the whole goddamn situation and I just stood there, watching the cops break open the door to our camper and tackle him to the floor and shouting commands and all that stuff while I was just…standing there. I didn’t do what he told me to. Didn’t get rid of the stuff, and the cops found it, of course.”

Eddie still remembered the look his old man had given him when they’d led him away. Out of the camper, of the Little River trailer park and Eddie’s life for good. The picture sometimes flashed in his mind. It still terrified him, the look that had shone in his old man’s cold eyes. He’d never hit Eddie – but Eddie was sure in that moment, had he been able to…he would have hurt his seven-years-old son.

“I still dunno whether I just stood there ‘cause I was just scared or if I wanted them to find what they were looking for. Let them take him away. Took me a long time to figure out the shit that happened wasn’t my fault, and that standing there and doing nothing to help him didn’t make me a bad person.” He cleared his throat. “Guess what I’m trying to say,” Eddie said quietly, his eyes finding Max’s, shimmering with her unshed tears, “Is that you don’t owe anyone anything. It’s not too late to just blow it off. Make another plan. And they’d all understand it. You know that, right?”

“I can’t just run.”

“Yeah, you can. There’s no shame in running.”

She didn’t reply.

Eddie had said and done what he could.

Whatever Max decided, it would have to be her choice alone. Not Lucas’, not yours, not Eddie’s, as much as he wished to talk her out of it.

The females of this monster hunter family, he reckoned, were definitely way more stubborn and fierce and brave than he would ever be. Nancy Wheeler with her collection of guns and her utter lack of caution. Robin Buckley, who, despite her own fear, never hesitated or asked questions before she followed her friends into what could be certain death. Erica Sinclair, who, with her eleven years of age, would be ready to face Vecna himself and make him cower in the dust with a single witty remark. Max Mayfield, who was ready to face her worst nightmares once again so a stranger wouldn’t have to.

And you, his monster slayer, with the heart of a lioness, so fiercely protecting those you loved – and how lucky Eddie was, to count himself among those people.

“I don’t know about you,” Robin’s voice chimed up from behind before she plopped down into the grass between Eddie and Max, Steve following suit behind her, “But I have this weird, horrible, nausea-inducing feeling that this time…things might not play out well for us.”

“Talk about a positive spin,” Steve quipped, his expression as dark as the rainclouds above. As the feeling spreading in Eddie’s chest no matter how hard he tried to snuff it out.

His gaze wandered back to Dustin and you, further down the hill, sitting on opposite crates, and the wind carried the sound of your voices, snippets of your ongoing argument.

“Okay, that’s it,” Eddie muttered, rising to his feet and brushing lose blades of grass from his ripped jeans. Turning towards the others, he added, “I’m gonna need the camper. We’ll be back by nightfall.”

“Night – wait, what are you gonna do?”, Steve blurted.

“Do you see fire, Steve?”

“No?”

“Exactly,” Eddie replied grimly. “The Henderson-method is flunking. So…we’re gonna try the Munson-method. And as much as I love the little shrimp, I won’t sit around and watch him make my girl cry.”

***

A hurricane of leathery wings, talons tearing into skin. Teeth, sharp like rows of sewing needles piercing deep enough to meet bone, tails strangling and restraining as Eddie’s death screams mingled with the hiss and screech and jeering of these horrid creatures.

Vines, tying him to a pillar, eyes wide and drained of their beautiful umber colour, eternally caught in a horrified, blinded stare at a crimson sky with the low full-moon that wasn’t a moon but a broken clock as tears of blood were drying on his pale cheeks, the melody of his heartbeat silenced forever and his soul eternally bound to this place filled with horrors –

“I can’t,” you whispered, your voice trembling and hoarse from the struggle to suppress your tears at the memories, “I can’t do this anymore. I need a break. Please.”

It had been two hours since you’d all returned from the War Zone, laden with all the weaponry and firearms to equip a whole battalion. And while the rest of your friends had taken to build Molotov Cocktails and spears and shields, Dustin had tried to help you get a grip of those stolen powers.

Powers which, as he kept reminding you as much as your frayed nerves kept reminding yourself, could very well tip the scales in your favor.

Powers which could save Eddie.

If only you learned to fucking use them.

It was not going well.

“Just try harder!”

“It doesn’t work,” you protested, voice breaking with the stupid tears that wouldn’t stop falling.

Dustin’s theory had been that, if you channelled enough horrible mental images of Eddie in mortal peril, of all the horrible things Vecna had threatened to do to Eddie in your deepest, darkest nightmares, it would trigger the same reaction Jason’s attack on Eddie and Vecna’s trance had set loose.

You’d sobbed. You’d relived your darkest nightmares, over and over again, Eddie’s death cry playing in your mind over and over and over like a broken record. And still…the wick of the candle in your hands was perfectly unburned.

And Dustin’s patience was running out even quicker than your own.

With an outcry of rage and fear and frustration and despair, you threw the candle into the grass at your feet.

“I find your lack of faith disturbing,” Dustin announced.

“If you quote Star Wars on me one more time, Dustin, I’m going to join the Dark Side.” Your voice was frail as you swiped at the stupid tears running down your cheeks.

“You can’t even use you power, what would they want with you?”

Before you could reply, another voice ran out from behind you, making your heart soar with just his presence.

“How’s it going, Master Yoda?”, Eddie asked, giving Dustin a gentle shove on the head, the boy’s cap slipping over his eyes before he reached up to right it again.

“The Padawan is struggling.”

“I could hear that,” Eddie quipped, his eyes finding yours, scanning the tracks of tears drying on your face. “That bad, huh?”

“You really need to ask?”, Dustin quipped, and you threw him a sideways glance. “Thanks, buddy.”

Eddie snickered, giving Dustin a pat on the shoulder as he said softly, “I’m gonna take it from here.”

You waited for Dustin to utter a clap-back, maybe bash you a little in the process – you loved the boy, but he could be a menace as soon as his inner scientist was activated – but Dustin only threw you a pitiful glance before he gave Eddie a nod and trudged away to join the others.

And somehow, that was worse.

When Dustin was out of earshot, Eddie asked, “Remember the day we snuck out of school to take a hike around the woods?”

“You don’t exactly forget the day a flood wave of condoms spills from your locker in the middle of a crowded hallway.” You sniffled. “Why?”

“’Cause I’m whisking you away again.”

“Whisk – where?”

“Come on,” Eddie said, taking your hand in his, already pulling you up the hill and towards the camper. “We got until sunset to turn you into a Firestarter.”

***

The song, as Eddie used to say, remained the same.

Against your concerns, Eddie had steered the camper back into Hawkins, right into the center of the storm, parking the vehicle on the side of the abandoned road beside the tree line of the small patch of woods behind Hawkins High’s sports field, before he’d grabbed the carton of anti-mosquito candles you’d taken from the War Zone, and together you’d made your way to your little clearing.

You’d watched with growing doubt how Eddie had placed the unlit candles on the picnic table, the bench, the ground and tree stumps around, until the clearing was specked with them, forming a wide circle around the two of you.

“For the satanic cult business, ya know,” he’d snickered as he’d assessed his work, making you laugh softly alongside him, easing the panic which had been growing in your chest like your own little thunder storm with every failed attempt to set the stupid candle aflame, before Eddie had waved off your concerns regarding the stolen vehicle parked at the side of the road (“The cops are too busy hunting me, they won’t care about a rusty old camper that got stolen from to angry hicks.”), the concerns regarding the clearing (“Nobody ever comes out here despite us, anyways.”) and the risk the training of fire powers in the middle of the woods, of all places, posed (“Jesus Christ, you got a worst-case scenario for everything stored in that pretty little head of yours, huh? You’re giving me anxiety, sweetheart. Maybe we should’ve brought weed, not candles.”).

Now, one of the unlit candles clutched firmly in your hands again, you breathed, “Should I try?”

“Wait,” Eddie said softly. As per your own request in fear you’d accidentally set him on fire, he was standing a few feet away from you, arms locked in front of the Hellfire club shirt covering his chest, his attentive dark eyes fixed on yours.

“What for?”

“Close your eyes,” he instructed softly. You complied, eyes fluttering close.

“Breathe.”

“I’m breathing.”

Eddie sighed. “Deep breaths. Smell the air. Just…gimme a chance here, ‘kay? Tell me what you smell.”

You inhaled deeply, letting the spring air fill your lungs. “Flowers. Peonies, maybe. Or magnolias. In the gardens at the edge of the woods.”

“What else?”

“Leaves. Wood. I don’t know, it just smells…green. It smells like spring. And I smell the citrus of the candles.”

“What do you hear?”

“You.”

“Focus,” he chided softly.

“Birds. Chirping in the trees.”

There was the soft crunch of dead leaves covering the forest floor like a carpet, the remnants of the prior autumn not yet decayed beneath the frosts of winter, as Eddie slowly crossed the space between the two of you, murmuring, “This is stupid. I’m gonna come closer now.”

Your eyes fluttered open again as Eddie came to stand in front of you.

“What was that about?”, you inquired, and Eddie tilted his head.

“To get you to calm down.”

“I don’t have time to calm down.” You squeezed your eyes shut to keep the stupid tears of frustration at bay. “It’s a fucking waste of time and energy. I should be loading guns or building Molotov Cocktails to be of some use. I did that. I fucking let him in and now I can’t even shut him out –“

“You’ve never been one to cut yourself some slack,” Eddie said softly.

You scoffed. “I’ve tried. The whole fucking day, I’ve tried, and there’s not even a stupid spark.”

At this point, anger and frustration were so overpowering that it took all your self-control not to smash the fucking candle on the ground again, the wick untouched even by a single spark. Just like it had been all day.

There was the softest touch of his warm skin on your cheeks when Eddie gently brushed away a stray tear which had started to fall, before he murmured, “Look at me, monster slayer.”

You complied.

The sun was setting already, casting its final golden rays of light through the foliage ahead to paint streaks of caramel into Eddie’s tousled curls, his umber eyes sparking as they held your gaze.

“Beating yourself to it isn’t gonna make it work,” he said softly.

You sniffled. “Didn’t know you were an expert with superpowers.”

“It’s like with every other thing,” he shrugged. “Practice makes perfect. But when I try to learn difficult new chords and it doesn’t work, stressing myself to try harder never does the trick.”

“Then what does?”, you whispered. You sounded pathetic. You sounded as desperate and helpless as you felt.

“Patience.”

“We don’t have enough time for patience.”

“A good thing then that you already played those chords, sweetheart. Two times. Three, actually.”

“Dustin said –“

“Forget what Dustin said, just for a sec, ‘kay? For one, learning to use those powers is neat but, in the end, we don’t need them. We got truckloads of Molotov cocktails and shit. Stop it with the hero complex, will ya?”

“What if those powers are what tips the scales?”

“They already tipped the scales multiple times,” Eddie insisted, “Which brings me to my second point. Henderson is convinced the mental flamethrower is activated by fear. Panic. Whatever. But I think that’s not the only way. I actually think there’s a better way to trigger it.”

You frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Tell me what you feel, monster slayer,” Eddie murmured, his fingertips tracing soothing little circles on your cheek.

“About what?”

With his free hand, he made a vague little gesture at the sea of unlit candles all around you. “About the whole Firestarter business. Your new powers.”

“We don’t have time for therapy and pep-talks, Eddie.” You don’t have time. You didn’t need to say the words. You were pretty sure he was reading them in your eyes right now.

“Then we’ll take the time. ‘Cause I can’t shake the feeling that the worst obstacle in the way here is kinda…yourself.” He scrunched his nose in contemplation as he gently pried the candle from your hands.

There was a pause, a beat of silence filled by the chirping of birds in the trees as Eddie watched you, waiting for you to collect your thoughts.

“I don’t want them. I don’t want those powers,” you finally breathed.

“I know.” It was soft-spoken.

“It doesn’t help to know what it is,” you whispered. “It’s like…like a parasite. Eating away at me and spreading and I’m scared that it’ll…take control again. Because it’s a part of him.”

“Maybe that’s where you should start. Thinking of it less as a parasite more of a...a raccoon. Or a dog, I dunno. A stray that won’t leave your side. What would have happened, hadn’t it…” Eddie chewed his bottom lip, eyes narrowing as he contemplated. “Hadn’t it been activated? At the townhall?”

“The door would have stayed locked,” you said quietly. “I would’ve never made it to the boathouse in time. Jason would have…he would have hurt you.”

Eddie gave you a curt nod. You both knew Jason would have done even worse than that.

“And at the boat house,” Eddie pressed softly, “What would have happened if it hadn’t been activated and set Chance’s ass on fire?”

Your reply was barely a whisper at the horrible memory of Jason, the moonlight falling into the boathouse making the metal of the crowbar in his fist glint like the blade of a sword. The crowbar he’d have used to break Eddie’s fingers, steal the music from him before he’d have stolen the life from Eddie’s eyes as well.

“They…he would have killed you.”

Eddie gave a stern nod. “So, the way I see it…it saved my life twice.”

“That’s –“

“Not a coincidence, sweetheart. I suck at biology, not math. You want to protect me. And that’s what it did. It protected me when you couldn’t.”

“Vecna said it only worked because he allowed it.”

“So we trust the undead psycho-killer now? You’re one of the wittiest, cleverest people I know, monster slayer.” His voice softened. “Those are your weapons as much as fire or guns or knives. Don’t let him succeed in making your fear and intimidation shut them off. ‘Cause,” Eddie gently placed the knuckle of his index finger under your chin, coaxing your head up so you’d meet his gaze, “He needed you to get in. And if he can’t do that shit by himself, he might not be as powerful as he wants us, wants you, believe he is.”

Eddie’s words made sense. Of course they did – and it hit you how far Vecna had already come in dazing your mind with your panic for Eddie, for you to be blind to the facts that were right under your nose.

“You’re right,” you breathed.

Eddie gave you a shit-eating grin. “’Course I am. I’m a fucking Dungeon Master. It’s my job to think like the monsters.” His face turned stern once more. “A knife in itself isn’t a bad thing. It can’t be good or bad, it’s just a weapon. It’s a matter of who wields it and for what cause that determines a weapon’s purpose. In those three times these powers have been activated, it has been to protect. Not once did they flare to life to attack.”

In the twilight of dusk, the sky a canvas filled with all shades of red and blue and pink and orange and the final rays of sunlight which had painted streaks of caramel into Eddie’s curls only moments prior gone now, Eddie’s eyes were dark, and the softness within them made your heart sing as he slowly took your hands in his, placing the candle back in your palms before folding your fingers around it.

“Okay, try again. Reach out. Stray, not parasite. It saved my ass, so try to give it a chance. Can you do that?”, Eddie inquired softly, and you gave him a nod as you watched while Eddie gently folded his own hands over yours, around the candle, and you frowned.

“No,” you said softly, “You should step away. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t.” He spoke the words without hesitation.

“How do you know?”

“I dunno,” he shrugged, “I just do. You’re not gonna hurt me, monster slayer. And I got an idea.”

He leaned close, placing the sweetest of kisses on the tip of your nose before he said, “You trust me?”

“With my life.” It came out without a single second of hesitation.

The radiant smile on Eddie’s lips was infectious as he announced, “Then we’ll try it my way now, instead of Henderson’s, ‘kay?”

“Dustin will hate you for diverting from the protocol.”

“Well, the little shrimp isn’t here right now, and so far, his protocol’s been failing miserably. So my way it is.”

“Are you using your boyfriend skills now?”, you teased, and his grin turned playful, dazzling as he mused, “One day I might stop wanting to faint on the spot when you call me your boyfriend, but today’s not that day. But no. Actually, I’m using my skills as long-term Dungeon Master.” His voice turned quiet. “Which memories tore you out of Vecna’s hold?”

You chewed your bottom lip as your mind wandered back. “The…the night we watched the stars on your roof. When you kissed me. Before…” You trailed off, but Eddie’s gaze was soft as he waited for you to go on. “When you came to the balls-and-laundry-baskets-game that night for me. When we danced in the woods and we almost kissed.”

He tilted his head. “Wait, you noticed that?”

“I was thinking about nothing else before you finally actually kissed me.”

“I swear I could have set the whole damn woods on fire because I was so frustrated by that fucking leaf. Took me so goddamn long to muster the courage to make a move and then it was thwarted by a goddamn maple leaf,” Eddie chuckled.

You giggled, before you went on, “The day we went hiking in the woods. When you tripped over that tree root.”

“So the happy memories ripping you from Vecna’s trance were simply a series of my most clumsy moments,” Eddie summed up playfully, “Good to know.” There was a beat of silence, before his expression turned serious again and he added, almost timidly, “So, uh. I’m – I’m in your happiest memories?”

Your own smile widened. “Actually, you’re the reason why they’re my happiest memories. Each and every single one of them.”

For once, Eddie Munson was speechless as he watched you with a mix of awe and bewilderment and love brimming in his eyes alongside a few happy tears as he whispered, “Focus on those, monster slayer. Focus on the happy.”

And when Eddie leaned close to place the softest of butterfly-kisses on your lips, resting his forehead against yours, your eyes fluttered close again.

With Eddie’s curls tickling your face and his palms warm against the back of your hands, wrapped around yours as you kept holding the candle, his scent engulfing you – of leather and sweat and cologne and the faintest trace of cigarettes and chocolate, you focused on all these happy memories. All the smiles, the lingering glances, the touches and kisses and laughs you’d shared with Eddie, gathering these images like pieces of your armor – before you reached out.

Towards that darkness nestled in your chest.

Not a stain, but something stolen.

Something powerful.

Something that now belonged to you. Yours to wield and command.

You could feel it stirring awake upon your beckon, a beast roused from its slumber raising its head, a tingle spreading through your body like the one you’d felt at the townhall, at the boathouse.

But this time, it was different.

This time, there was no danger, nobody threatening to hurt Eddie.

Eddie was right here, his warm, calm breaths prickling on your lips.

This time, you didn’t beg for that sliver of darkness to help you.

You were in control, that thing in your chest leashed and waiting. It was…alive, in its own strange way, you realized.

A stray beast, not a parasite, you reminded yourself, conjuring up the image.

With your mind you reached out, carefully, tentatively, towards that thing.

Are you on my side?, you wanted to ask.

You felt the strange darkness shifting, a shiver running through your entire being, and you felt Eddie’s hands squeezing yours in a gentle gesture of reassurance, as if he were sensing your distress. Telling you that he was right here. By your side.

He wouldn’t be, had it not been for that dark thing you’d stolen. He was right.

You saved him. It swirled, a sensation like ripples across the surface of a lake in the breeze. Will you help me save him again?

It was…waiting. For your command?

In your mind’s eye, you envisioned what you wanted.

Not the inferno of a Hellfire this time, but gentle flames, a soft flicker. Light, to chase away the growing darkness of nightfall, instead of fire to burn and devour.

You reached out for that darkness within, let it tangle around you like wisps of black mist, curious and…playful as it rose within you, ready to be wielded. Ready to heed your commands.

And command it, you did.

With Eddie’s dazzling smile and sparkling eyes, his infectious laughter and crooning voice in your mind, a leash of light holding that darkness within, you tugged.

Your breath hitched at the sensation, an electric tingle in your nerves – and your eyes flew open in time with Eddie’s, gazes locking on the candle in your hands.

On the small, dancing flame clinging to its wick between the two of you, its glow bright in the twilight of dusk.

You opened your mouth, but before you could utter the words of marvel at the tip of your tongue, something at the periphery of your vision caught your attention, a swarm of fireflies – only they weren’t fireflies.

They were flames. Dancing on the wicks of the candles Eddie had placed all around the clearing, a sea of flickering lights casting their golden glow to illuminate the dusk.

Eddie was the first one to break the bewildered silence, awe lacing his voice as he whispered, “Jesus H. Christ.”

Your incredulous smile met Eddie’s proud one, the light of the candle between the two of you dancing in his dark eyes.

“I did it,” you breathed. “I did it!”

“You fucking did it, yeah. Holy shit.” Incredulous laughter bubbled from Eddie as he turned around to face the sea of flickering candles shedding their golden light into the thickening darkness, before Eddie gently took the candle from your hands, blowing out the flame before he discarded it on the carpet of fallen leaves to cradle your cheeks and capture your lips in a kiss, as sweet and addictive as syrup.

The trigger for those powers…it had never been anger or rage or fear, you realized.

It had always been your love for Eddie, your desire to protect him.

Your hands flew up, weaving through his dark curls as you reciprocated the kiss, the fierceness of your touch making Eddie utter the sweetest of sighs as he pressed closer against you.

But the nightfall shrouding the woods like the mourning veil of a widow was the needle to burst this perfect, happy little bubble of Eddie’s kisses.

The twelve hours had almost run out.

There wasn’t much time left to convince Eddie to leave.

“I don’t want to go,” you whispered into the kiss. “I want to stay here in our spot with you forever. Just us. Just this.” Pulling away, just enough to glance at him, you began, “Eddie –“

“Ssshh,” he cut you off softly, before brushing the pad of his thumb across your bottom lip, and the gesture was all it took to set your nerves ablaze with need for him all over again.

And whatever Eddie had seen flashing in your eyes at the touch, it was enough to read you like an open book.

“We still got a bit of time left, ya know,” he mused, his eyes briefly flitting to the skies above, the color of a fresh bruise between the leaves in the crowns of the trees surrounding you, and there was a timid, mischievous smile playing on his lips when he looked back at you. “We could make use of it.”

“We could.”

“Though…I dunno whether it’s a good idea. Here, I mean. Since…” He trailed off, desperate to find the right words for what you already knew he wanted to say.

“Eddie, stop,” you said softly, taking his hands to lead him towards the picnic table, “You need to stop thinking you’ll hurt me. You won’t. You’re not Jason, you’re the guy I love. If I ever feel uncomfortable with anything you do, I’ll just tell you. But I don’t think I ever will, okay? And if you’re wasting another second you could be kissing me –“

Your words morphed into a surprised little giggle as Eddie tugged you towards him with a little twirl before his lips crashed on yours for another one of those kisses you’d happily drown in for the rest of eternity.

“Say that again,” Eddie murmured into the kiss, his tongue flicking out to graze your bottom lip, fingertips travelling along your spine, eliciting shivers even through the barrier of your Hellfire shirt’s fabric.

“You’re the guy I love,” you whispered happily, pressing your chest flush against his as he deepened the kiss, your own hands finding purchase at the lapels of his leather jacket to drag him closer, knowing it would never be close enough.

He let you guide him as you walked backwards, pulling him with you. Putting you in control of the situation once again, you realized. The gesture made love wash through you, warm and giddy like a spring day.

You reached the picnic table, your lower back bumping against the wooden edge of the tabletop – but there was no flashback to that September night with Jason, no panic, no nausea, only blazing need for Eddie building in your core with his feverish kisses, the slow dance of his tongue over yours. He tasted of the Yoo-Hoo he’d drank, of himself; and his scent wrapping around you like a warm blanket to shield you from the cold was as intoxicating as the sensation of his lips moving against yours.

His hands dove underneath the hem of your cheerleader skirt, locking around the back of your thighs to guide you to sit on the tabletop, his lips leaving yours to trace lingering, feverish kisses along your jaw that made you arch into him even further when he came to stand between your legs, one of his knees resting on the bench of the picnic table – before he sat down in front of you.

But before you could pull him back up to continue the kiss, you realized he had other plans – and you happily obliged.

A pleasant chill skittered along your spine when Eddie’s fingertips traced your right ankle, letting his hands stroll higher while he bent to place trails of lingering kisses in the wake of his wandering hands. A trembling groan escaped your lips at the sensations cascading through your body when his slow caresses reached the inside of your thigh.

Eddie’s touches left your skin burning and tingling, making you yearn for more, that familiar ravenous sensation blazing to life in your core when the pad of Eddie’s thumb flicked over your clothed heat, the sodden spot on the fabric of your panties, before he gazed up at you, an incredulous smile on his face.

“That all for me?”, he breathed, and you chuckled, before weaving your fingers through the curls of his bangs, careful not to graze the cut on his brow in the process.

“Of course.” Your smile widening, you murmured, “You’ve no idea what you’re doing to me with a single kiss, Eddie Munson.”

“Well, now I do,” he grinned, placing a kiss on the inside of your thigh, your hips bucking against the pad of his thumb stroking over your clothed heat, desperate for more friction already, your sigh morphing into a little whine as he pulled his hand away to hook his thumbs around the waistband of your panties.

His dark eyes glittered as they met yours in a silent question for permission you happily granted, lifting your hips so he could pull off the panties, the fabric eliciting shivers as if brushed along your skin when he slid them down your legs – and instead of discarding them on the forest floor, Eddie tucked them into the pocket of his ripped jeans, a timid little smile playing on his lips.

The gesture made your walls clench in anticipation, but before you could comment on how hot it was, Eddie let his calloused palms wander over the insides of your thighs to spread them further for him made, stealing your words and making you go crazy with the need to feel him inside of you.

“I love the way I can read in your eyes the exact moment your mind wanders into the gutter,” Eddie murmured with a soft snicker, and your grip in his curls tightened a little as you teased, “It’s not wandering. At this rate, it’s plummeting into a deep-dive, and you’re the one who pushed me.”

“Gonna join you there now,” Eddie smiled up at you, blowing a stray curl away from his face. “You’re always fucking beautiful, but the Hellfire shirt on you holds a special spell over me, sweetheart.”

The low drawl of his dark voice, like velvet on your bare skin, sent another pleasant shiver slithering down your spine. Eddie’s fingertips grazed the sides of your legs as he hiked up the fabric of your cheerleader skirt – but when he leaned in to place a kiss to the spot right above your aching clit, you froze in place with realization of what he was about to do.

Immediately sensing your sudden change in demeanor, Eddie pulled away, his hands leaving their spot on your hips.

“What’s wrong?”, he inquired softly, his dark eyes scanning yours, worry shining within.

Heat flared in your cheeks as you bit your lip and glanced away, focusing on the green-white-orange lines at the hem of your skirt, your fingers fiddling with a loose thread before Eddie gently took your hands in his, lacing your fingers.

“It’s stupid, really,” you said.

“It isn’t,” Eddie murmured, “Tell me what’s on your mind.”

He tilted his head, resting his chin on your knee while he glanced up at you, patiently waiting for your reply, the light of the candles dancing in his dark gaze.

You didn’t have any experience, prior to Eddie – but according to the girl talks with Nance and the things you’d overheard from the other cheerleaders, most guys didn’t like to go down on girls.

This was all still so new. And the last thing you wanted was for Eddie to be uncomfortable.

“Are you…I mean, are you sure you want to?”, you asked hesitantly, self-conscious all of a sudden, but Eddie’s gaze softened even more as he said, “Shit, yeah. I wanted to try that last night but…I was too chicken to ask. Believe me, getting you off is the hottest thing ever. Like, I’m probably gonna drop dead if you let me try, but it’ll have been worth it.”

You snickered, his words taking away some of your anxiety.

“You know there’s. Uh. There’s no need to be embarrassed or self-conscious or stuff, right? You’re beautiful, monster slayer. Every part of you. If you don’t wanna try it, say the word and I’ll stop. But if you wanna have a go at it, I’d be more than happy to make you feel good in all the ways I can.”

There were a few seconds of silence as you let his words sink in, gazes locked, the ache in your core growing at the sight of his dilated pupils, the way he was looking at you with so much love and admiration, as if for Eddie, you truly were the most beautiful girl in the world.

“Okay,” you breathed, giving him a slow nod, and he cocked an eyebrow.

“Okay?”, he echoed, “Or yes?”

“Yes,” you smiled.

Upon your words, Eddie’s smile widened, a little timid as his hands found their way back underneath your skirt, pushing the fabric up before he let his hands roam up the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, the caress a beautiful symphony of sensations; of the warm, calloused skin of Eddie’s palms, the smooth, warm metal of his rings, the cool brush of the little chain dangling on the sleeve of his leather jacket, leaving goosebumps and searing sparks in their wake.

You shifted a little on the tabletop to inch closer towards him, the rough wooden surface scraping against the back of your thighs where the fabric of your skirt had ridden up, your heart racing wildly in your chest.

Eddie’s umber eyes never leaving yours, scanning you for any sign of unease, Eddie slowly bent down, placing a soft, lingering kiss on the inside of your left thigh, right above your knee, and a second kiss right above that spot, his lips wandering higher, slow enough to give you the chance to stop him.

But despite the residual self-consciousness, you didn’t want him to stop.

You never wanted him to stop.

Each of those lingering, open-mouthed kisses was gasoline to the fire he was building in your core, leaping higher and higher the closer he drew to that aching spot between your legs where you needed him most, your thighs already coated with your arousal and your hips bucking a little as you shuffled closer to the edge of the tabletop, closer to him – and his smile grew wider as, those beautiful umber eyes never leaving yours, Eddie dragged his tongue over your folds.

The sensation of it was setting your every nerve ablaze, sent sparks travelling through your body to collect in your core as a breathless, “Holy shit,” tumbled from your lips.

“You taste so good,” Eddie moaned, the lilting timbre of his voice raspy with his own arousal, vibrating so beautifully through your body, and the sensation of his hot breath ghosting over your soaked folds made your toes curl with need.

“Do that again,” you pleaded, breathless already with the last of your worries momentarily replaced by white-hot bliss, and Eddie gladly heeded the plea, one of your hands clutching the edge of the tabletop for purchase as the other found its way back into Eddie’s soft curls to pull him closer against you as he dragged his tongue over your pussy, so achingly slow, as if he wanted to relish the way your arousal tasted on his tongue while his hands locked around your thighs to pull you closer against him.

The sight of Eddie, settled between your legs, his eyes dark with desire as he watched you with burning intensity, was nearly enough to send you over the edge already.

“You’re so goddamn beautiful,” he whispered, his lips brushing over the swollen nub of your clit to create the softest touch, making your eyes fall shut with the sensation as you begged, “Oh god, please stop teasing.”

Eddie’s low chuckle seemed to vibrate right through you – and you couldn’t bite back the noise lodged at the back of your throat any longer as his lips found the nub of your clit, gently sucking.

Your lewd moan filled the silence of the evening air, spurning him on, and his tongue darted out to swirl around your clit, your hips grinding against his face to chase the sensation. With another soft chuckle, he locked his hands around your knees and pulled, inviting you to hook your legs around his shoulders.

“Fuck, Eddie,” you groaned as he lapped at your arousal, dragging his tongue through your folds for a third time before he let it flick over your clit again, making you cry out with the pleasure blazing through you with the force of a wildfire.

You’d never get enough of this.

Of him.

Eddie’s dark curls tickled the insides of your thighs as he moved his head, making your skin prickle as the swirls of his tongue, still so achingly slow, turned the world into a blur of colors at the edges of your perception as your each and every sense, every cell in your body, zoned in on Eddie like the focus of a camera.

You could feel how close you were already, your climax building with every skilled stroke and flick of his tongue, his own soft moans vibrating through your core to lace with yours in the chill air, and your grip in his curls tightened to pull him closer still as your hips rolled languidly against his mouth.

You could feel him smile when Eddie wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking gently – and the sensation pushed you over the edge, your climax crashing over you as his name left your lips on a cry probably loud enough to be heard throughout the entire woods, but you couldn’t care less right now.

Your head rolled back as your orgasm washed through you, hips grinding against Eddie’s lips to chase that beautiful sensation as he hummed softly, guiding you through your orgasm with soft swirls of his tongue as your pace faltered, and he placed a final kiss on your clit, before he gazed up at you.

His lips glistening with your arousal, his curls a tousled mess beneath your grip as if he’d been caught in a hurricane, and his grin was nothing short of blissed-out to match the dusting of a blush on his pale cheeks and the burning need glittering in his eyes alongside the reflection of the flickering candlelight.

“All good?”, he grinned, watching your chest heave.

“Holy shit, yes,” you laughed breathlessly, your body tingling with the afterglow of your climax, walls clenching around nothing with the sight of him gazing up at you from between your legs, the gentle expression in his beautiful umber eyes never wavering while he entangled himself from your legs to rise to his feet in front of you, lips capturing yours in a feverish kiss that made you go wild all over again at the taste of yourself on his lips.

“Was – was it good for you, too?”, you breathed, but the sudden worry in your chest was chased away by the radiant smile Eddie gave you in response.

“You really need to ask?”, he chuckled, sounding genuinely incredulous, “Fuck, sweetheart, that was the hottest thing ever. When we’re out of there tonight, I’m never gonna do anything else. That’s it. Just making you go off on my tongue for the rest of life.”

The rest of my life.

The words were a needle piercing the happy little soap bubble you’d allowed yourself to be locked in with Eddie for those past few moments, and the realization of what lay ahead tonight, the images Vecna had placed in your mind night after night, in the trance he’d pulled you under…it came pouncing down on you like a swarm of those horrid bats.

And with it came the terror and the tears.

“I’m so fucking scared,” you whispered.

“Sssshh,” Eddie soothed, cupping your cheeks, “I know. Me too. But it’s gonna be okay.”

“How do you know?”, you cried softly.

His dark eyes scanned yours, before a strained little smile tugged at his lips. “’Cause ’86 is gonna be our year, monster slayer. I just know it. It’s all gonna be okay. I can feel it.”

It’s not. It’s not going to work out.

Eddie rested his forehead against yours, his thumb catching more of the tears you’d fought so hard to suppress, falling down your face like rivulets of rain as your insides felt as if you were being torn apart with terror, the overpowering fear to lose him.

That Vecna could take him away from you.

“You can still run,” you whispered. “You can take the camper and leave. It’s not too late.”

“I can’t. I’m gonna help stop him before he hurts you more than he already has. I’m gonna make him pay for the hell he put you through, monster slayer. You gotta let me do this.”

“He wants you, Eddie. Not the others. You.”

“Well, I’m not gonna let him get me.”

“That’s not enough!”, you sobbed, burying your face in the crook of his neck, his curls tickling your tear-stained cheeks as he held you.

“I can,” Eddie murmured. His fingertips were drawing soothing circles on your back. “Look at me. Please.”

You pulled back to heed his plea, your heart squeezing in your chest as you met his gaze.

“I love you, sweetheart. You found me at the boathouse. When I was trapped in the Upside Down. You found your way back to me through Vecna’s curse. That’s what we do, right? We find each other. Again and again. Even if we’re worlds apart from one another. There’s nothing that can keep us apart. I’ll always, always come back to you, monster slayer. I promise.”

His words still floating in the space between the two of you, Eddie reached up to the back of his neck, and you watched as he pulled his necklace over his head, the smooth plastic surface of the guitar pick dangling from the chain shimmering in the dancing light of the candles.

“That was the first guitar pick I ever had, did you know that? With that thing, I learned to play guitar,” Eddie said softly as he looked at the guitar pick nestled in his palm, his expression soft and far away at the memory he was sharing. “It was a shitty old acoustic guitar my uncle got from a yard sale. The guitar pick was part of the package. It’s been my lucky charm ever since and I guess it worked because I’m here, with the girl of my dreams who, for some weird reason, loves me back.”

With a chuckle, Eddie’s eyes met yours, and your own eyes widened as gently placed the necklace over your head, the metal of the chain warm with his own body heat as it came to rest against your skin, and you watched the pattern of dancing shadows the candlelight cast across his handsome face as Eddie’s eyes flitted down while righted the guitar pick around your neck, the light painting the tips of his long dark lashes in hues of gold.

“There,” he whispered, “Keep this safe for me, ‘kay?”

It sounded…sad.

It sounded like a farewell.

Fresh tears were spilling down your face as a frail, broken sob ripped away from you. Right out of your heart, the shards only just mended.

If Vecna took Eddie and broke it again, there would never be a way to put the pieces back together. “Why are you saying goodbye?” It was a broken sob, the words barely piercing the silence of the young spring night.

“I’m not,” Eddie soothed quickly, “I – shit, I’m not saying goodbye. Promise. Just for safekeeping. You’ll give it back as soon as we’re out of that shithole tomorrow. Okay?”

You gave him a frail little nod, the words choked by your tears as a though sparked in your mind. With trembling hands, you reached up, to the silk ribbon holding your hair.

You tucked, pulling it loose.

“Remember the day we met?”, you choked, “In the cafeteria?”

“Jell-O-gate,” Eddie snickered, “’course. You know I do. It was the day I practically fall for you.”

You sniffled, taking a deep breath in an attempt to steady your voice. “I fell a little for you, too. That day. You were so…different. I thought you were beautiful.”

Eddie’s eyes widened in disbelief as he watched you, your fingers tracing the soft green silk of the ribbon in your palm.

“You did?”

You smiled at him through the tears. “Still do, but yeah. I couldn’t get you out of my mind, either. I was always scanning the crowds to get a glimpse at you, you know.”

With a trembling exhale, you held the silk ribbon between your hands. The edges were a little frayed, the vibrant color a little faded in places where it had lain on the ground of these very woods until someone, maybe even Jason, had picked it up, used it to deliver the threat for Eddie to you – but you didn’t care. This ribbon had always been a lucky charm, from the moment Nancy and Barb had given it to you that day in the cafeteria right before you’d met Eddie.

Hadn’t it fallen from your hair that day, you’d never have bumped into Eddie. Would never have had those few heartbeats of a shared smile, getting lost in his beautiful eyes.

And just like Eddie, this ribbon had always found its way back to you.

“Is – wait, is that the ribbon you lost that day in the cafeteria?” Eddie asked, watching as you gently tied the silk around his wrist, right above the metal bracelet glittering in the candlelight.

“Yes,” you smiled, tying the ends into a ribbon, “It is. Now you got something from me, too. Don’t lose it, Munson. Else, I’m gonna keep the necklace.” Your face grew serious again when you added on a whisper, “This ribbon always made it back to me. Now that you have it…so will you.”

You could see the tears brimming in Eddie’s own eyes as he nodded, swallowing against the lump in his throat as he watched you raise his hand to your lips, turning it to place a delicate kiss on the inside of his wrist, your lips brushing his pulse point, and a second kiss on the silken green fabric of the ribbon, vibrant against Eddie pale skin.

Bring him back to me, you silently pleaded. Be my lucky charm one more time.

You couldn’t remember who crossed the remaining few inches first, and it didn’t matter. All that mattered were Eddie’s lips on yours, gentle and sweet and desperate, laced with so many emotions mirroring those churning in your own heart.

Love. Fear.

Hope.

His hands found their way back to your cheeks, his tongue to yours, and you sunk into the kisses, the tears continuing to stream down your face to mingle with Eddie’s and lace his kisses with the taste of salt.

Your fingers flitted down, working the buckle of his belt open, his own hands shooting out to help free him of his pants, and you pulled away from the kiss to watch him as your hand gently wrapped around his hardened length, your thumb brushing over the underside of his tip, relishing the way his lips parted for the softest groan, his heavy-lidded gaze resting on yours.

“Sweetheart, you’re crying -” he whispered, his breath hitching as you repeated the motion of your thumb.

“I need to feel you,” you breathed. “Please.” Your voice was barely a whisper in the space between the two of you, ragged breaths mingling as Eddie’s hand settled on the back of your head, his forehead still resting against yours.

You wanted to stay in this moment, to feel him, relish every single second you had left before he’d follow you into the darkness of the Upside Down. To catch those final moments, lock them up like the glittering flakes in a snow globe and keep them behind polished glass, frozen in time. Safe and sound, forever.

For Eddie’s kisses to chase away the panic and the terror of what lay ahead, your all-consuming fear to lose him tonight.

You locked your legs around his waist, the fabric of ripped jeans rubbing against the bare skin of your legs as you gyrated your hips against him, and the sensation of his tip grazing against your heat, slick with your arousal, stole the loveliest groan from Eddie’s lips.

And gazes locked and overflowing with so much adoration and love, it felt as if you could feel the threads connecting your soul with his, like strings of silk wrapped around your hearts and binding you to each other, making your paths cross over and over again like twin stars bound in each other’s orbit by their own gravity.

The air was knocked from your lungs with a sharp exhale when Eddie moved his hips and sheathed himself inside you, your velvet walls stretching around him as he filled you, bodies melting together.

You could tell he wanted to wait for you to adjust to him, so careful and gentle with you even in a moment when passion despair ruled out every other thought.

With Eddie’s chest pressed flush against yours, you couldn’t tell where his own heartbeat ended and yours began until they felt like becoming one, their beats were forming a beautiful duet alongside your shared moans tangling in the cool spring air as you moved you dug your heels into his lower back to bring him closer still, bury him deeper inside your walls.

For a few heartbeats, you just stayed like this, with your foreheads pressed together, his curls tickling your face and breathing in each other’s scent, the physical connection matching the one between your hearts, your bodies fitting just as perfectly.

When you angled your head and your lips found Eddie’s, quiet understanding passing between the two of you, he began to move, pushing out slowly before he thrust into you again. You fought for your eyes to stay open, locked on Eddie’s, the light of the candles dancing in the darkness of his dilated pupils, a kaleidoscope of warmth and love and tenderness that could never be fully put into words brimming in those beautiful umber eyes as Eddie held your gaze.

A strangled moan tumbled from your lips as his tip grazed the sweet spot deep within your walls, sending pleasure spreading through your body in glowing hot currents. And as if a scale had been tipped, Eddie’s grasp on your lower back tightened a little more, as he guided your hips against him, his thrusts matching the roll of your hips perfectly. You drew a sharp breath when he sucked at your bottom lip – gently enough so he wouldn’t hurt you, a love bite that made your bliss-addled mind spin like a carousel as your hands wove in his curls, so soft to your touch, tangling around your fingers when you tugged him closer.

“I can’t believe you’re mine,” Eddie breathed between kisses, his hand sliding down between your bodies, fingertips brushing over the swollen bud of your clit to send searing pleasure through your veins and make your body hum with electricity, as if every single nerve in your body to the very tips of your fingers raking through his curls was sizzling with tiny sparks, and you could feel his smile against your lips when you arched further into the touch with a broken moan.

“I can’t believe you came back to me, monster slayer. I can’t believe you love me.”

“I do,” you whispered, voice strained with the moan you were biting back in order for the words to find their way into the air, your own laboured breaths mingling with Eddie’s, his caresses of your clit growing more urgent with the quickening paces of his thrusts, grazing the spot inside of you over and over again to build the glowing sensation in your core. “I love you, Eddie.”

Please don’t let him. Please don’t let him take you away from me.

With his name leaving your parted lips in a broken cry swallowed by his greedy kisses, your climax washed over you. Torrents of pure bliss engulfing you as the glowing feeling which had built in your core cascaded through every last cell of your body like radiant, blinding-white sunlight, and little shooting stars danced in your vision as you could feel Eddie’s pace faltering, toppling over the edge of his own climax alongside you, his voice shattering beneath the blissed-out moan tumbling from his soft lips.

Your head fell on his shoulder as you rode out your orgasm with him, clinging to each other.

“I love you, monster slayer” Eddie whispered on a string of broken moans as he came undone inside of you with a final gentle thrust, his words making your heart sing, “It’s always been you.”

For a few heartbeats the two of you stayed like this, trying to catch your ragged breaths, your legs still hooked around his waist to hold him close against you, to just feel him inside you for a few moments longer, breathing in each other, hearts racing and minds dazed with the remnants of the bliss you’d just shared.

“When this is all over,” Eddie whispered, his thumbs caressing your cheeks. “I’m gonna take you to prom. I mean, if you wanna go, that is. I’d love to be all sappy and cheesy and take you to prom. I’ll give you one of these little flower-bracelets and take you out for dinner first. Or milkshakes. Or both. Gotta treat my girl,” he chuckled softly. “Dance with you all night, twirl you around in whatever dress you’ll pick which doesn’t matter ‘cause you could attend in your pajamas and you’d still be the most beautiful girl in the world.”

“We’d probably create a bit of a commotion,” you smiled, nuzzling your nose against his, your fingers playing with the soft curls at the nape of his neck.

“Would you be okay with that?”, Eddie asked, a little shy of a sudden before the beam you gave him in reply chased the little frown of worry from his beautiful features.

“I told you I’d wear my Hellfire shirt proudly. I wasn’t joking, Eddie. When this is over, I can’t wait to show the world that I’m Eddie Munson’s girl. That you’re the one who stole my heart.”

“Not stole,” Eddie whispered, placing a kiss on the tip of your nose, “Won. Stealing means it doesn’t actually belong to you, but winning means it’s been given freely. That it was a choice. So…you’re gonna go to prom with me?”

There was a beat of silence, filled only by the thudding of Eddie’s heart against your own, entangled with each other, before you murmured, “That sounds like a Go-Directly-To-Jail-Card, Eddie. You’ll still be wanted for murder.”

“We’ll find a way to make the cops believe me.”

“The whole of Hawkins wants to see you burn at the stake.”

Eddie huffed. “I don’t care about them. I’m gonna take my girl to prom.”

“And then?”, you smiled.

He chuckled softly. “Then I’ll very gently rip whatever pretty dress you’re wearing right away from you as soon as we’re alone again and put my tongue to good use. And then…I’m gonna take you wherever you wanna go.”

“But where do you want to go?”, you breathed. “I mean, if you could pick a destination right now?”

“Wherever you are, monster slayer. So…where do you wanna go first? Where did you always want to visit? Hadn’t all the monster shit happened?”

“The beach.” You’d never thought about it – but as soon as the words were out, you realized how much you wanted to go to the beach. “Swim in the ocean, walk through the warm sand. Listen to the waves. I think I’d love to go somewhere where there’s a beach with you.”

Eddie’s smile was radiant. “Then I’ll take you to the beach, monster slayer. I promise.”

***

The moment was over too soon.

You drove the camper back to the little hill to gather the others.

You put on the combat vests and pants and boots you’d grabbed from the War Zone.

You shouldered your makeshift-weapons.

And when you stood underneath the gate in Eddie’s trailer, its angry crimson glow like an infected wound a second pulse alongside your own, the powers which had once belonged to Vecna now nestling against your own soul, watching your friends climb the makeshift rope to the other side, Eddie squeezed your hand in his.

When the two of you were the last ones left to climb through, you whispered, “You can still run, you know. They’ll understand. They know he wants to kill you.”

“I’m gonna make him pay,” Eddie said softly. “I’m gonna make sure this fucker will never be able to lay a single finger on you again, monster slayer.”

He turned to face you, and his umber eyes found yours.

He looked beautiful. He looked like a warrior.

Like the hero he was.

His dark curls peeked out from underneath the fabric of the bandana he’d tied around his head, the crimson glow of the gate casting shadows across his pale features, making his eyes shimmer. Your gaze flitted down to the red demon face of his Hellfire shirt grinning back at you from beneath the combat vest and leather jacket. As an afterthought, you reached out, your fingertips fiddling to zip the combat vest up.

“You’re ruining my look,” Eddie teased, but his grin slipped at the sight of your own stern expression.

“That zipper,” you said vehemently, leaving no room for doubt that you were being serious, “Stays closed. Do you hear me, Edward Munson?”

“Are you two going to join us today?”, Steve called out from the other side of the gate, breaking the moment, the promise still out in the open, and Eddie bent down to pick up the makeshift shield he’d made with rusty nails and the lid of a trashcan, before he grasped your hand, his eyes never leaving yours while he placed a soft kiss to the back of your hand.

“See you on the other side, monster slayer.”

***

At the edge of Hawkins, there was a house.

The once vibrant blue paint was peeling away from its wooden façade, tar-black creepers climbing its walls, wrapping around the pillars framing the front door with its bouquet of crimson stained-glass roses.

It had once been a home.

It still was. The home to a monster – but a home, no less.

It wasn’t far from the Forest Hills trailer park, embedded in a patch of woods, the naked branches of the trees surrounding the little hill reaching towards the clouds in the skies, crimson flashes of lightning making them look like skeletal hands reaching up from graves as flurries of white spores drifted through the icy air.

It was calm, the place frozen in time – until something changed.

It was a small change, a ripple travelling through the air like a breeze stirring the surface of a pond.

The vines curling around the rotting pillars flanking the front door could sense it, vibrating with the sensation as a chorus of shrieks pierced the air, the sea of bats flitting in circles around the house growing restless with the sensation.

Hungry.

And in the old house’s attic, hovering amidst the tangle of his vines like a spider in its web…Vecna woke.

Forget-me-not blue eyes flying open at the ripple travelling to this realm, his realm, so beautifully frozen in time.

It felt like a sigh. A relieved sigh, of a missing part of himself returning home at last.

They were here.

For the first time in decades, his rotten lips curved into a smile.

He couldn’t hurt the girl who’d banished him here.

But he could hurt the girl who’d stolen from him.

And hurt her, he would.

Get back what was his.

And take her songbird away.

Because nobody stole from him and walked away unscathed.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟒

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Only two more chapters left omg. I’m so excited to share what I’ve planned for the finale, and thank you so much for reading! ♡

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