#since she got his old copies when he left for college (?)

[crunchycrystals]

this makes me want to cry

[changisworld]

“Just don’t tell her”

Stepdad!Binnie x reader

Word count:6,809

Summary: You don’t get along with your mom since her & your fathers divorce since she cheated on him but luckily you got an easy escape when college rolled around. It’s now summer break & you head home, mostly to gather a few more of your things but also to use the pool in your childhood home’s backyard but you got more than you bargained for when you seen your moms new, younger boyfriend.

MDNI, 18+ only, smut warnings below the cut.

©ANY translation, copy & paste, posting of my work is strictly forbidden for ANY posts/ writing i post.

main masterlist here

SMUT WARNINGS; Age gap (27 & 20), infidelity, bulge kink, size kink, manhandling, slightly public groping, praise, oral (69),ball sucking, nipple play, spit, cumming on ass, marking, fingering, sweet binnie, soft sex tbh, multiple orgasms,binnie is TTTHIIICCKKK, fluffy/ cliffhanger ending??

You drop the suitcase in front of your childhood home's front door & sigh as you stretch, feeling 30lbs lighter since you're no longer lugging around half your wardrobe. You grumble randomly to yourself as you dig through your handbag & get your key out of the zip up pocket & unlocking the door. You swing the heavy door open & you're immediately welcomed by the same smell you've always remembered. You push your suitcase into the main hallway & you dump it on the floor before shutting the door, letting out a sigh of relief. You step over it as you kick off your shoes as you scurry to the kitchen almost instantly to get a drink, feeling as dry as sand from the heat & the absolute workout you just did.

You gulp down a glass of water & you hiccup as you finish it. You take a look around the kitchen, looking at the slight differences since last time you were here. You admire the room as you slowly walk around it, looking at some new pictures that you noticed your mom has put up. You touch the frames as you walk pas them, most of them being photos of you but one catches your eye.. A guy.. with his arm around your mom?? Your eyebrows frown as you take it off the wall, getting a better look at it. "Mom? Where the hell are you?" You shout across the house, waving the photo frame in your hand. You hear the patio doors open behind you & you flip around, already word vomiting. "Are you serious? who the fu" You cut yourself off as you see that the person who has just opened the glass door isn't your mom, but instead, the guy in the picture.

"Ah, your mom is at some sort of meeting right now, she won't be back till later, guessing you're her daughter?" The guy says, seeming un-phased, resting his muscular arm on the doorframe in just his swimming trunks, having a slight smell of sunscreen on his body which you can't help but admire a bit. "Eh yeah? not to be rude or anything but who the hell are you n why are you on the walls n at my pool?" you ask, eyes moving back to the picture as you hold it out for him to see, eyebrows raised. "Ooooh, I'm Changbin, your moms new boyfriend, nice to mee'cha" he gives you a cute smile which would make you melt if he hadn't just said the words he said. You stumble over yourself for a few seconds, trying to understand what he just said to you. 'Him? Your moms boyfriend? How the hell did she manage that? How old is this guy?' are all things that almost slip from your lips. "Boyfriend? How old even are you? You look my age?" You question him, all the sass in your voice now gone, confusion being all that's now left. He laughs at the look on your face as he walks over to you & gently takes the photoframe out of your hands before walking to where you took it off the wall & placing it back in its original place. "That's a compliment i won't forget seeing since you're.. what, twenty or something? I'm twenty seven. The age gap is a bit crazy since your mom is fifty one soon but we just clicked. You home for summer vacation or something? She didn't mention you were coming home." He asks, still having a warm smile on his face. You just stare at him for a moment, not even knowing if you should bother asking him anymore questions. “y-yeah.. I’m here for two weeks, I’ll just eh, leave you to whatever it was you were doing n take my stuff upstairs.” you state, your tone of voice for some reason not sounding convincing despite it being the truth. Changbin let’s out a small scoff before walking past you into the main entrance. “Don’t be stupid, two weeks of stuff is heavy, i’ll take it for you.” He shouts from the other room. You follow him out, beginning to protest, insisting you can do it yourself but he has already picked up the suitcase you could barley drag into the house with one arm before carrying it up the stairs. He turns around & urges his head up the stairs, hinting for you to come with him. You just smile & follow him, giving a small sigh as you do so. He keeps walking, suitcase in hand & you swear you see him looking at the collar of your shirt.. looking at your tits..? you brush the thought away, thinking you were being stupid but you definitely keep it in mind.

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You open your bedroom door to save Changbin the harmless struggle of doing it himself & he thanks you before wasting no time & walking into your room as if it’s his own. “Cute room, like it.” He states as he puts your suitcase down & looks around. You give him a slight smile before looking around the room yourself, partly because you’ve not been there in a long while but also partly because the man in front of you is still only wearing swimming trunks & you don’t wanna be admiring someone you shouldn’t.. or should you..? “Thanks, mom wouldn’t let me redecorate it since i was leaving a few months later but it’s not too bad, thank you for helping me with my suitcase, i woulda been still on the third step trying to get it here.” you try to joke, deciding to be a bit more friendly to the hot guy who just helped you. “Sorry if this is rude to ask but do you like.. even know how much of a bitch my mom is..? She’s no doubt just putting a mask on for you, between me n you, go through her phone n check she’s not cheating on you too.” you tell him, not keeping eye contact & picking up random things on your shelves & drawers to try feel less tension in the room. The man behind you giggles & you can’t help but turn around, shocked by his reaction. ‘he’s definitely gonna snitch’ pops into your head instantly as you just stare at him, still holding the mini fake cactus plant in your hand. "She was surprisingly open about what she did to your dad but thanks for telling me anyways. Why snitch so openly? You don't get along with her or something?" He questions, voice raising at the end. "She always said you both get along quite well." You scoff at this. "Clearly not open about everything then. We don't get along whatsoever. Only even came back here since it's hot n we have a pool here." He hums in response, both of you sitting in a kinda uncomfortable silence. You let out another sigh before turning away from him, breaking the eye contact you were both holding. Changbin takes a breath in "Speaking of pools i'ma go back outside, i'm stinking your room out with sunscreen. You can come by n sit with me if you feel like it! Nice shorts by the way, You suit denim." He flashes you another smile before leaving your bedroom, closing the door behind you. You take in the compliment before walking to where you can see your reflection & looking at the shorts, blushing a tiny bit at the compliment.

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You unpack your suitcase & make yourself feel as at home as you can despite the circumstances. You update your friend, Karina that you made it back home somehow in one piece & you obviously can't help but tell her about the hottest man you've ever seen now living with your mom.

K: Are you serious?? OMG u needa get with him y/n! opportunites

You: Don't be stupid rina, he's like 28?? he's my moms bf lol

K:So? u can just get away with it hehe, fuck him n then come back to college, just keep it secret! he complimented ur shorts, he wanttssss uuuuu

You: OKAY ur maybe right, lets just see hehehe

K:If u dont do it u will regret it, the cow cheated on ur dad anyway, perfect revenge

You chuckle before turning your phone off but don't have much time to think or do anything before you hear your moms car pulling into the driveway. You let out a displeased grunt as you hear the front door open.

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You end up eating dinner with your mom & Changbin & nothing eventful ends up happening surprisingly. Your mom makes a few backhanded comments but you bite your tongue for the sake of Changbin, you would just feel embarrassed letting him watch you both argue especially since this is your first time meeting him. Changbin takes the dishes back to the kitchen & you help him since your mom decided that a few phone calls was worth it more than the five minutes it would have taken her.

"Thanking for helping y/n, so respectful for your age." He says as you are drying the dishes as he washes them, turning his head towards you for a split second to smile again. "You have a permanent smile on your face, I'm convinced. Is she always like this with you?" "pretty much, I understand her work is important though so It's understandable. I get a bit lonely during the day since I can work from home but It'll pass hopefully. Got you to keep me company now though for a little while, hmm?" He says, letting out a small sigh, voice raising a bit at the end, trying to hide his disappointment but also joking with you at the same time despite you both wanting it to be not much of a joke secretly. "Yeah I'll keep ya company, my mom just doesn't respect others time. Don't know how you deal with it." You reply as you finish drying the dishes & placing them in the cupboards. You both just chuckle as he dries his hands. "Well I'ma go n watch a movie, you should get dressed for bed It's late n you're still wearing denim y/nnie." He scoots past you & as he does he puts his hands on your waist & you can't help but tense up a bit. You nod & you smile at each other as he leaves. You take in a deep breath as soon as you are alone, trying not to let your skeleton jump out of your skin.

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You get back to your bedroom & start instantly digging through your drawers trying to find something to wear, trying to convince yourself that you're wanting to wear the shortest sleep shorts you can possibly find simply because of the heat & not because of the man downstairs. You end up wearing some grey flowy shorts & a matching grey vest top. You take a picture & send it to Karina before spam texting her.

You: RINA OMFG HE TOUCHED MY WAIST I SWEAR BDFHVVH

You:N THEN SAID IM RESPECTFUL N EVERYTHING i swear is it bad to be in love with my moms bf? girl u need to see him hes so toned n big istg

You:he watching film probs with my mom but ima go n sit with him heheh ill update later

You decide to put your phone on charge & leave it there as you take one last look in the mirror before opening your door & basically throwing yourself down the stairs before you can talk yourself out of it.

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You walk into the livingroom & see your mom & her boyfriend sitting together watching a random thing they found on netflix, his arm that you so desperately wanna be thrown around by, wrapped around your moms shoulder, stroking her hair, both under a blanket. You internally vomit before hopping onto the couch on the other side of Changbin, not saying anything. Your mom readjusts the blanket so you can also get under & you begin watching along with them.

Thirty minutes or so into the movie your mom has already fallen asleep & it's just you & changbin watching. You decide to be bold & lean sideways, your head now resting against his shoulder. Your heart is beating out of your chest & you swallow, too loud for your liking. "You shy hm? what of? Sit up for a second." He whispers to you & your cheeks instantly go red as you listen to him without saying another word. You tense up as he moves his arm & wraps it around the bottom of your waist & slightly pulling you towards him, initiating for you to put your head back where it was, which you do. You both sit in a silence, not so comfortable though since you don't think you've ever actually been this nervous before yet the person next to you seems to be completely un-phased.

You both stay like this for the rest of the movie, not really saying anything other than random small jokes & comments about what you're both watching, during this time you end up cuddling into him more subconsciously & your fingers end up lightly scratching over his abs on top of his shirt, trying to play it off while still trying to feel them at the same time.

The movie finishes & your mom wakes up & drags herself to bed, not even realising the position you & her boyfriend were in as you spring up uncomfortably as she flinches awake & ends up leaving the wine glasses & bottle the two of them were drinking from on the floor. Changbin takes her to their shared bedroom as you grumble about the crumbs on the couch & the smell of the wine as you take them to the kitchen as you take a few swigs out of the practically empty wine bottle, finishing it off before putting it on the counter. As you do this, you hear footsteps come into the room, beginning to recognise the sound of it. You turn around & unsurprisingly but happy at who it is in front of you, changbin is in front of you, curly hair on show & now in a loose white tank top & some baggy black shorts & you need to make a genuine effort to not drool all over yourself. "Look at us, matchy matchy." you tease as you touch his strap of his top, you both let out a small chuckle. "Yup, got the inspo from you, think you wore it better than me though. You cold, hmm? Shoulda took the blanket with you." He teases back, making you look down & you see that your nipples are poking through your shirt, extremely noticeable. Your cheeks go cherry coloured as you look back at him. "Why you staring hm? Mom wouldn't be happy." He scoffs, hand reaching out to play with the ends of your hair, twirling it in his fingers, the silence a lot more comfortable than earlier despite the contact being a lot more intimate. "Hey! Don't blame me, who wouldn't look hmm? so p- don't act as if you didn't do it on purpose." he says, voice low & deep. "what were you gonna sayyy? What if I wanted you to see? Never said this before but your arms are so big, holy shit." you smirk as you prodd at his left arm, softly grabbing & touching at it which gives him goosebumps. "Was just g'na call em perky is all. Imagine your mom heard you talking to her boyfriend like this." You roll your eyes, trying to not to show the affect he has on your words. "Imagine my mom hearing you talking to her daughter like this.. Afraid you chosen the wrong one hmm? Incase you somehow haven't caught on, I personally, would do anything to make her miserable." You have no idea where the confidence has came from but you don't second guess what you're saying. Your fingers leave his arm as you let your fingers trail up past his jaw & up to his hair, playing with it, at the same time Changbin pulls you in closer by the waist, sharing breath. "Never knew I could only make one choice.. Could correct myself one day but what would you offer me, y/n?" he says to you, a different look in his eyes than what was there earlier in the day. "Would need to just find out now, wouldn't you?" You snap back, leaning in just enough to wiggle your nose against his, not breaking eye contact. As you do this you hear footsteps upstairs & the bathroom door opening & closing which makes you both semi permanently snap out of it. He sighs before looking at the direction of the door then turning back to you, hands not moving. "We can finish this conversation later mkay? Wanna gimme a teaser though before I need to go?" he whispers to you & before you can stop yourself, you lean in & kiss him. It only lasts a few seconds but you know you can both feel some sort of weird connection between you both & you can't help but think & admire how soft his lips are, like mini cushions against your own. You both break away at the same time & he playfully ruffles your hair, messing it up before stepping away from you. "Goodnight, y/n." He says nonchalantly despite his cheeks & ears blushing like crazy before leaving the room, leaving you standing there, taking in what just hapened.

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You wake up the next day practically jumping out of bed, not being tired at all despite ringing Karina non stop until she woke up just so you could see her reaction to what you had just done. You look out your window & almost begin screaming at the fact your moms at work, her car not being in the driveway. 'literally feel like a fourteen year old girl what the hell am i doing' you can't help but think to yourself as you brush your teeth. You open the window & stick your hand out & test the temperature. You put on a pink bikini & put some sunscreen on before getting a drink & making your way out to the pool. You lay down & put some headphones on before shutting your eyes to soak in the sun.

You don't even know how long you've been sitting there when you hear the chair next to you being pulled out over the noise of your music. You take off your sunglasses & turn your head & to no surprise Changbin is lying on the chair next to you, resting his head on his arms as he stretches himself out. "You not meant to be working or something?" You question him while shutting your eyes again. "Swear I told you I worked from home? I have an hour break so why not sit in the sun. Could you do me a favour n but sunscreen on my back for me, pretty pleaase." He asks you as he reaches & takes your wrist, pulling it playfully as he already rolls himself over. You don't say anything but sigh as you sit up & get off the chair you're sitting on & grab the sunscreen from the space between you both & straddle the back part of his thighs as you squirt some directly onto his back, making him hiss & yell playfully.

You begin to massage it into his back, not missing the chance to look at the insane amount of muscles there. You finish rubbing it in but don't stop your motions, now practically massaging him since you have the chance to do so. You do this for a few minutes, Changbin letting out small sighs as you do so. You karate chop his back a few times which makes him yelp playfully. "Cmon, since I did it for you you can return the favour." Changbin sighs & mumbles to himself as you plop yourself back down on where you were sitting earlier, moving your hair out of the way to give him access. He follows quick behind & positions himself so your back is facing his chest as his legs wrap around the sides of you.

He decides to spare you the mini torture you put him through & puts the sunscreen on his hands & rubbing it slightly to warm it up before massaging it into your back. You soak in the sun on your face at the same time as you soak in his touch, knowing which one you like more & it stays like this for a few minutes, Changbin quietly singing a random song behind you which makes you 'shush' him which makes him tut. You feel him going over your bikini strap that's tied behind your back multiple times before he opens his mouth. "Your strap is in my way & it's annoying me, can IIIII untie it?" He questions, leaning forward to rest his chin on your shoulder. "If you want to get in my pants just say so, jeez. Fine." You grumble as he tuts & rolls his eyes but enthusiastically pulls on the bottom parts of the bow tying it together, letting it come undone. You hold onto your tits so the fabric so you're still covered. He keeps massaging you for a few minutes longer than needed before lying backwards, taking your original place. "Hey! You took my place, move!" you yell, hitting his leg lightly. "No! I'm comfy here now, just lay here because I'm not movin." he snaps back. You grumble & whinge as you throw yourself backwards, still holding your bikini to your chest, just to annoy him.

You forgot you even had your headphones on your head until he decides to nab them off your head. You protest instantly & sit up to steal them back but in the process, accidentally let go of the bikini shirt & you instantly grab it back to your chest but it goes noticed by you both. "n you said I wanted to get into your pants yet you're the one doing shit like this, hmm?" he teases before chucking your headphones to the side as he pulls you back to him, back against chest. "Why are your cheeks the same colour as your lack of top? Don't be so shy!" he says as he pinches your cheeks playfully which makes you want to explode deep down. "Pinks my favourite colour, yours?" he asks another question, trying to soothe you a bit if you are feeling embarrassed as his fingers now trail over your collarbones. "Don't have one, I like blue n pink though, green too." You respond, hands grazing over his, pretty much just hoping no wind quite literally blows your top away.

You both end up talking about everything & anything, ranging from college, work, childhood pets & least favourite foods. During this time you're pretty much holding his hands as you have almost accidentally guided his hands so his fingers are now on top of your boobs, over the fabric as he lightly fondles them. "Your hands are so cold despite it being so hot, whys that." you ask, trying to wrap your own around his hands as you speak. "Hands get a bit cold when I'm nervous, no idea why. Always been like that." he murmurs back, only half listening. You think for a moment before lightly pulling his hands so now they are touching your tits, completely skin to skin. You get goosebumps not just from the coldness of his hands touching your nipples but also from nerves. Changbins breath hitches in his throat but tries to play it off by gently massaging them. "You're so bold for someone who's doing this with someone who could basically be your stepdad." "Ew, don't say it like that, creeps me out. You're closer to my age than my moms by a landslide." You both let out a chuckle as you get more comfortable laying against his broad chest as he fondles your nipples & lightly squeezes your boobs, making you need to hold back light moans. He pinches your nipples which makes you gasp & you subconsciously twitch, before sitting up. "Don't do that unless you plan on finishing the job! You don't know what that does to a girl, jeez! I'm going inside before i burn through the sunblock. You can take my empty cup inside since you're such a gem." you loosely tie your top back together as you stretch your arms out, slightly pushing your ass out just as a tease. "Yah! Who do you think you are? I do know what happens, just wanted.. to experiment okay?! & who said i wasn't coming." He obviously still picks up your empty cup before toddling behind you as your hips sway as you walk inside, his hands wrapping themselves around them.

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You have no idea how it happened but you both end up in your bedroom, your back against your mattress as you're both making out. Your hands are ruffled in his curly hair as his thigh is in between your two legs, which you obviously can't help but grind against but the friction isn't completely all there due to the bikini bottoms. Changbin realises this from your small huffy groans & his fingers trail down to them, playing with the hem. "Can I?" he whispers to you after breaking the kiss, noses basically touching. You nod & he does just that. You chase ever so slightly after his lips again & you poke your tongue over his lips which he gladly accepts. As you are both swapping a bit of spit, his fingers resume what they were doing & he traces over your folds which makes you shudder. "You sure you wanna do this? It's a bit crazy, don't feel pressured." he assures you as he looks into your eyes, full of lust. "I do want it, pinky swear. My mom deserves it, just don't tell her." you reply, fingers still playing with his poodle hair as your other hand rests over his bulge, trying to show your sincerity, which works. He gives you his cute little smirk. He kisses the tip of your nose before he flips you both over, you now straddling him. He discards the rest of your top as he takes your nipple into his mouth as you stretch downwards so you can push his swimming trunks down just enough to free his cock. You can't see it due to his lips suctioned around your tit restricting you but it only takes a few seconds before he effortlessly manoeuvres you so your cunt is hovering above his face.

You let out a small squeal as he pulls your hips down, making you sit on his face. He wastes absolutely no time as his tongue begins to lick every crevice from top to bottom, using his teeth just the right amount. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as his hands begin grabbing at your ass, kneading it in his hands which you know will bruise you slightly later on. You can't help but grind against his tongue as he is suckling on your small button & you throw yourself forward so you are now face to face with his cock & you gasp, not just from what the man below you is giving you but because this man is thick. You now see why your mom is obsessed with this man. You take a hold of his cock & your fingers barely even connect around the base as you let a glob of spit hit directly on the tip which makes his hips jolt. Your eyes scrunch over as his tongue slithers its way inside you, making your legs tremble on each side of his head. You jerk him off as you are moaning above him, thrusting your hips back & forth, your juices coating his face along with his own spit as you use your own spit as lube.

You finally build up enough courage to begin kitten licking the tip & then after watching him try chase your tongue, you put the tip in your mouth. You slowly open your mouth up as you take more of his cock in our mouth, surprised it even fit at all. You use the tongue to the best of your ability, drool now getting caught in hi pubes. You feel his tongue leave your hole but you don't have a millisecond to complain before two fingers take its place. You can't stop letting out whines at the pleasure as your shaky hand comes & fingers graze over his balls. He lets out a louder whine than what you've heard from him make this whole time. At the same time, your orgasm begins approaching so you struggle but manage to pop yourself off his cock. "g--gna cum, d-don't stop" you whine & he lets out a deep growl noise as he keeps feasting & drinking away at you as if he was never gonna taste anything ever again. Your fingers don't stop playing with his balls as your orgasm washes over you, your legs shaking as your arms give out, flopping down as much as you possibly can while Changbins big arms are keeping you up by your ass cheeks as he keeps your pussy grounded.

He breaks his lips away from your cunt & as you are getting your breath back & takes this time to now massage your ass, giving it some relief after the bear grip he has had on it for so long. You come back down to earth & remember he hasn't cum just like what he let you do.. & you don't like this. "yyou're so big for no r-reason, I swear." you say to him as you pick up his cock again, jerking it slowly, admiring how shiny it is because of your spit & precum alone. "too big for you? You can take it bunny, just suckle on my balls if your throat is sore, mkay y/nnie?" You instantly blush at the small nickname & you would be stupid to turn down the offer. "who woulda ever thought you are into that." you comment & he shakes his legs as he starts whining, putting his hand into your hair to As he grazes his fingers on the inside of your thighs & playing with your flaps lightly, taking into account about overstimulation while helping keep you grounded, you take his balls into your mouth. you suck lightly as your fingers also play with them, making sure to coat it in spit as your tongue swirls over them.

He instantly lets our a hiss as he sucks his breath in through his teeth, trying as hard as he can to not squirm around too much. You allow spit to drip down from past your lips as you slobber all over them, still slowly jerking him in your other hand, his higher pitched noises making you turned on even more than you already are, leaking even more juices onto his fingers. You switch over onto the other side before suckling on the rest of his balls & you're honestly surprised the neighbours haven't already came knocking telling you to both shut up by how loud he's being, making your stomach do flips as his fingers stay wrapped in his fingers.

All of a sudden you are pulled off of his balls completely, lips disconnecting with a 'pop' noise as the suction breaks. You are tossed onto your back & you spread your legs instantly, almost vibrating with excitement. You look into his eyes as his own are glued onto your cunt, shining with your juices as he pumps his cock slowly, completely covered in your spit, heavy breathing & his face red, still got your juices on it. He slots it on your pussy & thrusts upwards slightly, making you twitch & bite back a small moan as it catches on your puffy clit. "Stop playing, put it in, dyin' for it, pretty please." you whine out, voice more blown out than you wanted it to be. Changbin smirks as he lines himself up to your hole. "You sure you wanna do it bunny? It'll be a big stretch, we can stop now & pretend it never happened if you're having second thoughts." he replies, the hand not touching his third leg caressing your thigh, giving you a small smile. "Does it look like I'm sure? Please, just wanna fe-" you're cut off as he begins to push himself inside slowly as you suck in a deep breath, feeling as if you're being quite literally ripped open but in the most delicious way possible. He finally buries himself to the hilt & lets out a groan, throwing his head back. You can't help but clench multiple times & he takes this time to lean forward & nuzzle his face in your neck, licking & nibbling at it, not moving in order to let you adjust.

You tilt your head so you can kiss the side of his head as your fingers scratch lightly on his arms, leaving marks that none of you could care less about at this moment. "'m ready, please move, please." you whimper out, face flushed red. He hums before doing an experimental thrust, knocking the air out of both of you. He stands upright before holding onto your thighs & putting your legs on his shoulders before slowly picking up the pace.

You let out a moan that bounces off the walls & they don't stop coming. 'shit' 'binnie' 'fuck' 'so good' & 'uhs' splutter out of both of your mouths every three seconds. "s-so tight, can lit-literally see it" He whines out as he takes your hand & guides it to your lower belly & your eyes widen as you feel his cock poking through your lower stomach. You both look down at the sight in front of you & you wrap your hand around his as it's holding it down against your belly. "so good for me, aren'cha, taking it s-so well, creaming my cock hunny." he groans to you, making eye contact with one another. "so-so deep, so f-f-full." you basically scream back, your eyes watering from the pleasure, hair sticking to the sides of your face.

Your legs begin to shake & he pulls out & you begin to protest but as your tongue moves to begin yelling at him, he tosses you over so you're on your stomach before pulling on your hips so your face down & ass is up. He holds onto your hips as he sinks himself back into your creaming hole & continues his pace, making your mind numb. "Need you to hold out to cum, mkay? can c-cum together." you can't help but blush at what he's saying to you as he is holding you in place, fondling your ass with one hand as the other is on your hips, eyes glued to his cock sinking into you. He hits a way deeper spot in this position & you shriek before jolting yourself forward but it's short lived before he has pulled you back by the hips, leaving bruises by how much he is gripping onto you. "Don't run, you can take it, so good for me, hmm?so wet for me," He questions as he leans forward so his chest is resting on your back, his hips not slowing. "g-gna cum Changbin, so d-deep, f-f-fuck." your voice grainy as Changbin moves your hair from the side of your neck to begin kissing it again, squelching & smacking noises filling out the room & no doubt the rest of the house too. "Cum baby, so beautiful, aren'cha." he groans back to you quietly, voice shaky & hair stuck to his forehead.

It bubbles up so quickly you don't even have time to tell him before you're spasming underneath him, legs giving out & arousal squirting out of you & clenching so hard he pulls himself out to finish himself off. You're still riding out the rest of your orgasm & he pumps himself in his hand at a good pace & a few seconds later, his own release spurts out & resting onto the skin of your ass & lower back. You can hear his orgasm before you can feel it landing on you, his groans making you clench almost as much as you just were.

You both catch your breath for a few seconds before he leans over you again & pushes your head lightly so you're facing him, cheek smushed against the duvet. He gives you a peck on your lips & then nose & smiles at you, taking deep, quick breaths , you doing the same. "So pretty, even with your cherry cheeks, gimme a minute to clean you up." He whispers to you before standing up & grabbing a random item of clothing off your floor before walking to the bathroom & wetting it with warm water before returning & cleaning it off of you.

He helps you rest your head on the pillows as he brings you a bottle of water before coming to lie next to you, letting you rest your head on his chest. "S-swear you had work to do? It's been more than one hour, dummy." he chuckles as he plays with a strand of your hair. "Was more worth it though, wouldn't you say?" you hum in response. He readjusts himself & as he does this, he gasps a little bit. "Y/n i've eh, left a hickey on accident." You look at him for a second to see if he is joking but when it's clear he's not, you sigh before pulling him back onto you. "Nothing concealer can't fix. Might just let my mom see just to subtly hint." He tsks to you & rolls his eyes playfully. "That's a conversation for a way later date. On a negative though, I do actually need to go back to work n your mom is actually home soon so I'ma leave you here hunny mkay? I'll come n see you later, pretty pretty." He gives you one more kiss before you move so he can get up & he takes your swimwear out of the room with him, both of you still naked.

"We are gonna talk more about this later alright? There's no way we can go back to normal after this!" you shout as he is walking down the corridor & he shouts back: "Obviously not only friends!I now know I did choose the wrong one so we can fix it eventually!" You can't help but let a smile spread on your face slightly. You let your body calm down for a moment & then grab a towel & your phone before heading towards the shower, the spot between your legs raw & achey. Just before you get into the shower you obviously need to pull your phone out & text your friend what the hell just happened.

You: Can't promise I won't be sucking it up & driving all the way to & from college every single day from now on.

[viennakarma]

hear me out... ending 3: secrets

she just doesn't tell him, publicise their divorce, she's disappeared off the face of the earth basically, she keeps the baby, it's a boy, looks just like him but they just never see each other again. Lewis is upset, can't cope, just keeps partying, drinking during off season, or just gym gym gym not even socialising as much, fashion declines like no longer going for all the cool different clothes and just comes in trousers and merc top.

But how does he find out? when?

Maybe she's just out living a normal life now but an old fan recognises her, she's with her brother and son, maybe they don't recognise the brother and they think she's got a new man and kid, she always wanted a kid and Lewis was never ready wanting to wait. maybe that photo gets released so lewis finds out that way. loads of rumours on twitter. maybe not directly, someone else could bring it up. Jealous then realises. He tries to contact her, doesnt work, blocked on everything. He remembers where her parents house is and visits them, eventually meets yn and their son. Then co-parenting. But like no friendly friendly just civil. She has the son, Lewis has him on free weeks. She does eventually move up cuz when her son is with lewis, she has free time for dates. Just a regular guy tho and it's all great and eventually lewis also tries moving on but like fr this time. so like eventually yn and her new bf move in together, live a happy faithful life and have another kid. while lewis maybe has just won his 8th (or 9th depending on time line) but it's not what he dreamed of, not having yn to celebrate with. But he's got his now long term gf and he proposes.

so basically to summarise, she is alone, single mom, gets exposed, Lewis finds her, civil co-parenting, yn gets a bf happy life, Lewis eventually gets a gf, happy without each other

This is a little blurb on how I imagine a third ending of Say Something would go:

You leave, right after finding out about the pregnancy, maybe somewhere far from England and Monaco. Lewis doesn’t deserve to reap what you saw after ruining your future. He doesn’t deserve you or your kid or to play happy family. You move away, maybe to a farm Australia, since you’ve always wanted a quiet life anyway. Your parents and brother accept moving in with you to help with the risky pregnancy. It’s tough, you can’t do much to risk your health and the baby’s. Soon you find out it’s a boy, you’re happy something good came out of a dumpster fire that was your relationship with him. Him, because you don’t say his name anymore, trying to leave his memory behind.

You baby boy is delivered in a difficult C-section, one your brother and parents never left your side and you felt less alone, not sharing the moment with the father of your kid. The day is happy and sunny, so you name him Helio, like the sun. Like the light in your life. You realize you’ll never fully leave his memory behind, his son being his spitting image. The same hair, the same complexion, the same nose, the same shiny brown eyes and chubby baby cheeks. And you love him so much it hurts. You realize you may have lost him, but Helio was pretty much his copy.

Following your baby’s firsts is the happiest you’ve ever felt. Saying ‘mama’ for the first time, taking his first steps, playing with animals and saying his first words. You settle in a happy routine as a single mom. After the pregnancy, your parents move back to England because they couldn’t just leave their house. Your brother stay with you and your sister move in too, after finishing college.

You try not to know about him. Last you had heard was during the pregnancy, hearing about endless parties, trips and models, that had taken a toll on you, in a way you decided to stop looking. He had a life and you had a completely different one now.

Helio goes to school, eventually. Despite feeling protective, you know you can’t deprive him of a true kindergarten experience, not only for studies, but also for his formative years and to become socially active. The first year, your sister, who has a volunteering job close to his school, is the one who picks Helio up everyday. He makes friends at school and even invite them for a birthday party at the farm. It’s one of the happiest moments for him, eating cake with friends and showing them his pets.

During his second year, though, your sister get a little sick, so she can’t pick Helio from school. And you decide to go, along with your brother. It’s a hot day, so you stop by a park to eat frozen yogurt and let Helio play a little while.

That day, someone recognised you and recorded you.

That’s how Lewis finds you. The video eventually find its way to him. The post has a silly caption ‘for everyone wondering what had happened to y/n, seems like she found a new man and started a family’. Lewis scoffs because he knows the man in the video is your brother and you are thick as thieves ever since you were kids.

You’re just as pretty as ever. Maybe a little more curvy, and hair longer, but just the same, still the most beautiful woman-

But then he pauses. He zooms in the video and see the toddler running up to you. The little boy, who makes your eyes light up as you hug him, sharing what looks like ice cream or something. And from what Lewis can imagine, the boy looks 4 or 5 years old. But there’s no denying, he looks exactly like Lewis as a baby, if he put a baby picture of him beside the boy in the video, it would be the same. It was a matter of time until some of his fans put two and two together.

That’s how Lewis ends up going to your parents’ house in England. He had gone there after the divorce, but the house was for rent and he couldn’t contact your parents of you, after cutting him off completely. Now, when he knocks, you mum is the one to open.

“Is he mine?” Is all he asks, breathing hard.

Your mom let him in, seeing his state of distress. She doesn’t lie nor sugarcoat it. She tried to convince you to let Lewis know about the kid. Helio, he muses, whispering the name of the little boy he never even met.

He goes to Australia with your mum, not even letting you know first, because your mum believed you’d run away once again.

When he makes it to the farm, you’re out in the field with Helio, you two running and playing together barefoot on the grass. He hears Helio’s laugh, yours too, and something inside him breaks. He’s seeing before his eyes the life he threw away for one stupid mistake.

As soon as you notice him, you stop laughing, holding Helio behind you, protective. You call your brother out, asking him to take Helio upstairs and not leave until you say so. Lewis just watches helplessly as your brother takes his nephew inside and Lewis couldn’t even get a closer look at his son.

“Mom, what did you do?” You say, betrayed. You mum explains everything and you invite both of them inside.

Inside, you fight, almost shouting until you remember Helio upstairs, forcing yourself to calm down. Lewis feels betrayed, you tell to his face he doesn’t deserve this life. You pull a stack of documents, asking Lewis to sign. It’s a contract saying he gives up any rights over the kid. Lewis cries.

Your mother mediates.

After what feels like hours of arguing back and forth, you accept Lewis begging to know his kid, begging to be part of his life. How could you deny your kid of a father now you couldn’t hide him behind a layer of ignorance?

You introduce father and son a couple of days later, in the presence of a child therapist, to help mediate. Helio is skittish in the beginning, but he quickly warms up to Lewis. Sometimes, he run backs to you, hugging you tightly, feeling shy. You reassure him, letting him go back to meeting his father.

“Mama, do all daddies take this long?” Helio asks that night when you’re putting him to sleep. You swallow your tears when answering.

“No, my baby. Not all of them. One day you’ll understand better, yes?”

The first time Lewis takes Helio for the day, you cry for hours, feeling like a mother bird in an empty nest. He had invited his family to a nearby city, only 40 minutes away so he could introduce Helio to them. It’s planned for them to come back by dinner time, to not disturb Helio’s routine. But they come back earlier and your baby looked like he’d been crying. Worried, you carry him inside while Lewis explains that the first few hours Helio was enjoying himself and meeting everyone, but after a while, he started crying because he ‘wanted Mama’. Selfishly, that makes your heart grow easier, because you know Helio would never forget you, and in the end of the day, he’d would always want Mama’s arms.

The first months are like torture, until you get used to Helio coming back at the end of the day. Your Helio, your baby, becomes Helio Hamilton when Lewis registers him. Lewis tries to win you over many times, with gifts, inviting you to dates, until you have a stern talk with him, telling him it wasn’t happening. That every time you were polite and respectful to him, Helio’s well being is the only thing in your mind.

Eventually, the media finds out about Helio. Lewis blatantly lies, saying he had been keeping his son’s existence a secret for his safety and privacy. People mostly respected his wishes.

You see Lewis’ family for the first time again at Helio’s fifth birthday. You thought they’d hate you for hiding their grandkid/nephew, but they treat you with the same kindness as always, and you feel just a tiny bit of guilt for hiding Helio for so long.

You realised that you had much more free time now that Helio was with Lewis half of the time. So you started going to the gym, going shopping, not only for Helio but for yourself, you went to museums, parks and eventually, dates.

One day you meet Leon, a recluse just like you. He’s a writer, living in a cottage in a close city. You hit it off, but you and him get to know each other for a whole year before you introduce him to your family, and Lewis. Your ex-husband doesn’t take it well, admitting that deep down he thought you’d go back and be a family. You tell him, he ruined that himself.

You find some resemblance of balance. With Lewis’ coming to pick Helio whenever he had free time, you weren’t friends just a cold politeness.

Lewis, whenever he had to pick Helio, he found you and Leon sitting by the porch, or horseback riding, or helping Helio with homework and school projects, he would always envy your life, the happy family he could have, but he had only himself to blame. When he finds out by Helio you’re having another baby, he swears a part of him dies forever, buried alongside your love for him, and the future he threw away. Eventually, Lewis married again, a woman who loves him, loves Helio and she even gets along with you well, and that’s all he can ask for, knowing deep down he would never love someone else the way he loved you.

PHEW! I may have gotten carried away. Thank you for your ideia, Anon! I hope this was alright!

[the-record]

kissing lessons: 3

synopsis: it was like she’d never left as you settled back into friendship, but how you wished there was more to it.

song: kissing lessons - lucy dacus

pairing: college!ellie x reader

warnings: nothing??

a/n: getting juicy now 😊😊

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4

“move in with me.”

was she crazy? you couldnt just move in with her.

“im sorry?”

ellie laughed, you looked at her like she was crazy. “move in with me! ive got an apartment like 10 minutes from here.”

“ellie, respectfully, i haven’t seen you for a decade, and you think im just gonna move in with you to an apartment ive never seen? that you don’t even live in?” you stood up, arms crossed over your chest and paced. “and, even if i wanted to, im still 17, i dont turn 18 until september. i cant just move out. my mom would, like, i don’t know… she’d probably call the police.”

ellie smiled was you through out every possibility under the sun. “she’d disown me. take back my car. she pays for it, not me. and i don’t know if my job even pays enough for me to pay rent.” your threw your hands in the air and finally saw ellie’s small laugh. “what are you laughing at?”

she shrugged, pulling you back down to her bed. “i don’t even move in until the end of september. and only someone who was considering it would come up with all that in two minutes.” she sighed when you rolled your eyes at her. “you keep rolling those eyes and they’re gonna get stuck.”

“oh my god, shut up.” she watched you try to hide a smile.

ellie couldn’t help but wonder about you even as you sat in front of her. what did you love and what did you hate? what made you tick? did you remember everything she taught you in her old room? on the mattress you sat on now. how to kiss, and how to get cole or justin or whatever guy had a crush on you.

she wondered what you wanted to do in life. who you were friends with at school. if you wanted to kiss her as much as she wanted to kiss you. like old times.

your heads both turned as the street lights flicked on.

“i better get going.”

“stay for dinner.”

your voices overlapped before silence.

“okay.”

ellie smiled, getting up and holding a hand out to you. you took and she pulled you up but didn’t let go as she led you back downstairs.

god it was gonna be hard to be just friends.

“so,” joel sat down his fork and looked at you. “have you thought about college? where you wanna go? what you’d like to study.”

you nodded, copying joel and putting down your own fork. “yeah, i was planning to stay here actually. instate tuition and all that.” you took a sip of water before continuing. “i think i’d like to be a teacher? maybe. i just know i want to work with kids.”

“wouldn’t even have to learn about them, considering you are one,” ellie teased. you kicked her shin under the table. “ow, fuck.”

“ellie no cursing at the dinner table.” joel winked at you as ellie scoffed. “what’s happened since we’ve been gone?”

you sat back in your chair, thinking about everything of sustenance. “honestly nothing. it’s incredibly boring.” you gasped as you remembered. “mel got pregnant last year.”

ellie nearly spit out her food. “no way.” you nodded, picking up your fork again. “with who? what’d her parents do?”

“owen.” ellie gasped as you nodded. “who, mind you, at the time was dating abby.”

“good god.” joel stood up, taking his plate with him. “thats enough for me.” you and ellie laughed as he left.

ellie cleared her throat as you took a bite. “20 questions?” you nodded and set down your fork before getting comfortable. “favorite song?”

you hummed, “kyoto, phoebe bridgers.” ellie nodded approvingly. “favorite movie?”

“the outsiders.” you groaned and ellies jaw dropped. “excuse me? whats your favorite then?”

“practical magic, duh.” you smirked as she rolled her eyes. “you keep rolling those eyes and they’re gonna get stuck.” you echoed her comment from earlier.

“you’re so annoying.” ellie flicked a pea at you.

you threw one back, hitting her forehead. “favorite book?”

she thought for a moment before she answered. “catcher in the rye.”

“good one.” she nodded. “wanna get slushies?”

ellie bolted up with a smile, “god i thought you’d never ask.”

“i can’t believe you dont get cherry and blue raspberry.” you shouldered ellie as you walked back to your car.

ellie scoffed. “i can’t believe you do.” she pulled at the passenger door. “unlock the car.” you got in, closing your door and locking it. “angel.”

you smiled at her and turned on music, singing along between sips. ellie walked around to your window and knocked. your pretended to be shocked, turning down the radio and rolling down the window. “what can i do for you this fine evening?”

ellie leaned her arms on the car door with an innocent smile. “can i kiss you?”

“what?” your face and mind blanked long enough for ellie to unlock the door and pull it open. you barely realized before she was clambering over you to the passenger seat. “oh fuck you.”

ellie gasped, “how unladylike. you just sip your slushy and get me home safely,” she teased as she buckled her seat belt.

you fought the urge to roll your eyes as you shut your door and put the car in reverse.

how badly you wanted to have said yes.

[serasvictoria]

Title: Pretty Persuasion

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female Reader

Summary: You are the proud owner of Hawkins Records and have been for some years now, but dwindling sales mean that you might be forced to close the store that you love so much. Help comes in the form of Eddie Munson, former friend and frontman of a very successful band, but since the two of you hadn't parted in the best way 12 years ago there is no telling what will happen when you reunite again.

Word Count: 19.398

Content warning: 18+ mdni. Porn with lots of feelings. I am not joking, there are a lot of feels in this. Two idiots in love. Swearing. Oral (m and f receiving). Unprotected sex (p in v). Alcohol use, but nothing outrageous. Short haired Eddie (hey, if the guys from Metallica got a haircut in the 90s, Eddie can get one too). Please let me know if I missed something!

Notes: This story takes place in 1996 and Eddie and Reader are both 30 years old. Reader character graduated in 1984, the year that Eddie was supposed to have graduated as well, and left Hawkins shortly afterwards.

I made a playlist for this that I played whilst writing and it can be found right here for people that are interested. It's mainly alternative music from the 90s from bands that I love.

Beta read by the lovely Pearl. Any remaining mistakes are all mine.

Tagging @adrille88 @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @quantumlocked310 @kaybee87 @istorkyou

“Hawkins Records, how can I help you?”

Eddie bit his bottom lip. This was crazy. This was probably the craziest idea that he ever had in his entire life.

“Hello?” He swallowed and before he could answer, the feminine voice on the other end started talking again. “Chase, is that you again? I can hear you breathing down the phone, you fucking perv. I swear to god if you call again I will fucking end you. We’re talking about me taking a pair of garden scissors to your house and cutting off your balls.”

“Wow,” Eddie said with a laugh. “Jesus. Harsh.”

“Oh.“ The surprise in her tone is clearly audible, even in just that one word. “I’m sorry, but we’ve been having some issues.”

“I can tell.” He laughed again and ran his hand through his hair nervously. “Look, I’ll make it quick, because I don’t want that guy to miss out on your furious, and might I add, sexy voice…”

“Fuck you,” the voice on the other end countered with a chuckle of her own. “But what can I do for you then? Want me to hold a copy of the Alice in Chains Unplugged CD for you?”

“Nah, thanks, I already have one,” he replied.

“Lucky you.” Eddie decided not to mention that he was given a copy by Jerry Cantrell himself. He didn’t like to brag. “So? What do you need?”

“Well, it’s not about what I need, but about what you need.” He could hear her groan on the other end so he kept talking before she gave him a lashing with her tongue (which he wouldn’t have minded much to be honest and he hadn’t even seen the girl). “I heard that the store isn’t doing too great…”

“Yeah.” Her voice sounded decidedly smaller then, with a lot less confidence and bravado as before. “We got til the end of the year,” she sighed. “Unless I win the fucking lottery or something.”

“Guess this is your lucky day then, because I can make all your troubles go away,” he snapped his fingers next to the mouthpiece. “Just like that.”

“I don’t get it.”

“I want to make you an offer you can’t refuse...”

That was two weeks ago.

And now Eddie Munson was on his way to Hawkins Records.

Eddie Fucking Munson. Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson as almost everyone at school used to call him. Eddie, the singer and lead guitarist of Corroded Coffin, the band that you’d seen play many a time at The Hideout before they’d made it big.

It was insane that you could even say that you once knew the frontman of a band that played at sold out venues all over the world. It had taken them years to get there, but they had made it.

While you had been away at college, Gareth, their drummer, graduated and shortly thereafter all four of them had left Hawkins to record a demo in Indianapolis.

Their self-titled demo was available in the store, still did reasonably well actually, and it got reprinted almost every single year. The first pressings were worth quite a bit of money and you actually had two of them upstairs, something that you had been saving for a “rainy day”. You had been slowly trying to get yourself used to the fact that that day might come a lot sooner than you thought, but then Eddie had called to make his offer, to buy the store and thus taking care of all your financial difficulties.

If he had been serious about it at all that was.

Because there was every chance that he might change his mind when he found out that you were the current owner. There was a history between the two of you that you’d rather not think of, but for all you knew, Eddie could turn on his heel and walk straight out again as soon as he saw your face.

The bell above the door rings and you instantly call out, “He’s not here yet.”

It didn't take a genius to figure out who had come round to check if Eddie had arrived. Again. It was only the ninth time that he had come round since the store had opened almost four hours ago.

Hurried footsteps approached the counter and when he reached it, his fingers started drumming on the old wood nervously. “He said that he’d be here over an hour ago,” Dustin says as he keeps his eyes firmly pointed at the door.

“Maybe he’s stuck in traffic somewhere,” you reply as you turn the page of the current edition of Rolling Stone magazine, something that you were barely reading at all. It had Jenny McCarthy on the cover with a hotdog that she was spraying loads of mustard on in a suggestive manner. “Or you know, it could all be some elaborate joke.”

“He’d never do that.” Dustin looks slightly shocked that you even suggested that at all. His curly hair, which was usually hidden underneath a cap, was slicked back. There was so much wet-look gel in it that it shone like crazy. “Eddie loves this place.”

“I know,” you reply with an annoyed tone in your voice. Looking back down at the page, the words ‘An artist wears his work in place of wounds’ in a Patti Smith article caught your attention. “I used to come here with him, you know.”

Whenever Eddie had money to spare, he’d be in here and looking for new releases. When he was listening to something that he liked, which was often, he’d pull the worn headphones off his head and shove them in your face, while excitedly telling you, “You’ve got to hear this.”

You had been with him when he bought Judas Priests’ Defenders of the Faith for example, which had been proclaimed as the best thing ever by Eddie at the time. The then owner, Rob, had later gifted a poster with the cover art on it to Eddie which he had stuck to his bedroom wall that same afternoon. You also distinctly remembered Eddie making fun of your, sometimes poor, taste in music, like when you had bought R.E.M.’s Murmur, a band that you still loved and whose second album you were playing right now.

Every good memory of your teenage years was tied up to this store.

And to Eddie Munson.

“It’s why you took over, right?”

“What?” Your mouth falls open, completely in shock over his question. “I didn’t buy this store because of Eddie! W-why would I- fuck. That would be so incredibly stupid!” Dustin raises an eyebrow, obviously not believing you. “I didn’t! I love this place and I didn’t want to see it turned into another run of the mill store. And look where that got me.”

“It’s okay,” Dustin replies as his fingernail picks at a loose piece of veneer on the old counter. “Eddie will save the day.”

“Yeah right. I still say that all this is some elaborate pr-“

Before you can finish your sentence, the door suddenly swings open, making the bell ring again. You didn’t look up from your magazine this time either, especially not when you heard that voice.

“Jesus. This place hasn’t changed a bit.”

You gave yourself a quick once over and deemed yourself passable enough. Since you had been half convinced that Eddie was never going to show, you hadn't even attempted to dress up. It was hot as fuck too, the height of summer, and the old AC barely offered enough in terms of cooling the place down, so you had opted for a pair of jean shorts and a black tank top with the name of the record store printed on it.

At least the clothes were clean. Thank god for that.

Despite not wanting to, fearful of a look of disappointment on his face when he saw that you were now working here, you did eventually look in his direction. It was all too easy to picture that same boy that you had hung out with daily all those years ago. The youthful exuberance didn't appear to have left him at all, but he wasn't the same guy that you had once known.

His hair was a lot shorter for starters.

Back then, he had vowed never to cut it, even though he had had a buzzcut in middle school. The long hair was part of his persona, an extension of it if you will, and he had made jokes about how all his strength was in his hair, very much like Samson. It was cut short now, but still long enough to show off his curls, with one curled over his forehead in what was either a deliberate or accidental move.

His clothing hadn’t changed much. His outfit was still predominantly black, with jeans that were so tight that it looked like they had been spray painted on. His shirt, with a faded Metallica print, was sleeveless and showed off all the new tattoos that he had gotten over the years. You briefly wondered whether there was a piece of his skin that hadn’t been inked yet.

Different, but still the same.

“You’re late!” Dustin calls out.

“Traffic was a bitch,” Eddie replies with a chuckle. “Is that you, Henderson?”

"Who else?" Dustin approaches him and is immediately swept up in a big hug. Dustin had told you that he and Eddie had kept in touch before. From the moment that he had found out that both of you knew Eddie, he hadn't shut up about him. In fact, Dustin had been the one that had told Eddie that the store hadn't been doing well. "Hey, man."

"Hey." They release each other and Eddie pats Dustin's back one more time for good measure. "Haven't seen you in a while, big man." It had looked like Eddie had wanted to say more, but you could see his nose crinkle in disgust even from this distance. "The fuck. R.E.M.? I fucking hate those guys."

You scoff loudly from behind the counter and that was when he finally noticed you. "Fuck you, Munson. Pretty Persuasion is the best song ever."

"Is not, loser," he counters like he used to do more than ten years ago as well. "Jesus,” he grins. “Talk about a blast from the past."

"Something like that," you mumble as you finally close your magazine and move it to the side.

You could hear Michael Stipe singing ‘He’s got a pretty persuasion’ through the speakers. It felt very appropriate to you.

Despite Eddie always being very vocal in his dislike of everything R.E.M., you did wonder if he even heard the lyrics and whether he finally realized that whenever you heard that song, you always thought of him. Sadly, he showed no sign of awareness as his eyes swept over the place that he used to know like the back of his hand and your shoulders immediately slumped in defeat.

Too good to be true, eh? Just like old times, you thought to yourself and tried to settle into an air of indifference, the only line of defense that you had left.

Eddie started walking around the store like he used to do back then as well, with Dustin hot on his heels instead of you on this particular occasion. He kept looking up at the walls and the various release posters that you had plastered all over it.

Some of which were old, like the one for Sonic Youth’s Daydream Nation which hung next to one for Rage Against The Machine’s Evil Empire which had been up there for about three months now.

You saw Eddie reach out and touch the Kurt Cobain poster, in a sign of respect. Some local kids had turned into some kind of shrine after Kurt had died two years ago, scribbling messages on it about how much he had meant to them. You didn’t have it in you to take it down.

Eddie and Dustin were talking in hushed tones, laughing occasionally, as they slowly made their way to the counter. Seeing Eddie up close for the first time in ages was making you nervous already.

Stop it, you think to yourself. You're being ridiculous. It's just Eddie. No big deal. Maybe he forgot all about what happened and then you can get on with your life.

"Didn't know you worked here," Eddie said when he was a couple of feet away from you.

"I own the place.” You almost sound too casual, which was a miracle seeing how you were a total mess on the inside.

"Really? Since when?"

"Since Rob died, so that's… what?” You start counting on your fingers quickly. “Eight years ago now?"

It was shortly after you graduated from college and you were still in that “What next?” stage of your life. You had merely been visiting Hawkins at the time, on a social call to visit some relatives, when you found out that Rob had died. Buying the record store had been a rather impulsive decision that you had never regretted, not until quite recently anyway.

"So you're the girl that I talked to on the phone?" He was standing on the other side of the counter now, his hands placed flat on the wooden surface, his rings immediately catching your eye. You nod in reply to his question. "You could have told me that that was you."

"Didn't think about it," you reply. You look at Dustin over Eddie's shoulder first, a big grin spread all over his face for some reason, before looking Eddie in the eye. "Why? Are you disappointed?"

"Fuck, did I say that?" He flashes you a wide grin, his dimples appearing like sunshine that was peeking through the clouds. "I know how much you love this place."

"Yeah. It seemed like the right thing to do, you know?” You thought that you were still pulling off this whole casual indifferent act, but from the way that Dustin was looking at you, who was trying very hard not to burst out laughing, you figured that you probably looked like a damn lunatic. “And I inherited some money when my grandmother died so I had the funds to do it."

“I’m sorry about that.” Eddie’s eyes soften considerably and he reaches out to give your hand a comforting squeeze.

“Don’t be. It happened a long time ago.” When you pull your hand away a bit too quickly, Eddie frowns briefly, unsure why you don’t seem to want him to touch you. Your hands are clammy and shaking so you hide them underneath the counter instead, out of his reach. “So. Here you are.”

“Here I am,” he grins, having recovered from your rejection. “And you’re in trouble. Never thought I’d be bailing you out.”

“It was usually the other way around,” you laugh.

Whenever Eddie was in trouble, and he got into trouble a lot (Hopper practically had Eddie’s number on speed dial), you’d usually provide him with an alibi, swearing up and down that you’d been with him all night and that he had never left your sight.

“So it’s high time that I repay the favor.”

“Guess so.” You look away from him, his stare too intense. “You’ll have to tell me how this is going to work though, I’m a bit fuzzy on the details.”

“Sure.” He pushes himself away from the counter, somehow sensing that you didn’t know how to act around him. “Glad that it’s you by the way.”

“Me?” It was true that you had always loved this place, it was the closest thing to a second home that you knew, but actually going as far as buying it in an effort to save it? It had been a hasty purchase driven entirely by love. You hadn't even given yourself time to think about it. It hadn't been until you were actually standing in the store all those years ago, as the owner this time, that you had taken the time to think about what the hell you had done. "I can't help but think that I shouldn't have, you know?"

"Don't say that. This old place is kinda instrumental in getting us back together now, right?" A shiver runs down your spine when Eddie says that and you know that he didn't mean it like that, but you can't stop your mind from wandering in that particular direction. "Besides, I'm here now, ain't I? Your savior."

"Fuck, Eddie," you laughed. "Still with the theatrics."

"Some things never change, babe."

"I guess not."

After a short amount of time spent catching up, you closed the store early and went out for lunch with Eddie and Dustin at a local diner. Everyone stared at Eddie from the moment that he walked in.

Several of the older patrons still looked at him like he was a devil worshiper whereas some of the people that had attended high school with him had looks on their faces that hinted at jealousy and something else, too. Belinda, a former cheerleader, even came up to him with one of the biggest plastic smiles that she could produce and told him how glad she was to see him.

As soon as she left, after realizing that Eddie wasn’t going to give her any attention, the three of you sniggered and talked about how Belinda had never even looked twice at Eddie when he was still in school.

Now that he had made it big, Eddie was suddenly a lot more interesting.

“Fuck, that was so weird,” he says when you head back to the store. It was just the two of you now, because Dustin had already made plans with Suzie. “I think that she was putting the moves on me, too.”

“You think?” You nudge his side with your fist. “She looked ready to drop down to her knees and suck you off in front of everyone.”

“Ew.” Eddie shoves your shoulder and you laugh in reply. “I don’t even want to think- that’s fucking gross, man.”

“Doesn’t that kind of thing happen to you all the time?”

“Sometimes,” he says with a shrug. “But that doesn’t mean that I’ve gotten used to it.”

“Starfuckers,” you counter as you hold open the door that leads to your apartment above the store. “All looking to become the next Mrs Munson.”

Eddie chuckles at that and you want to laugh along with him, but you could feel a sense of dread begin to form in the pit of your stomach.

You didn’t know why you thought this, but maybe he turned down Belinda Foster, former head cheerleader and current very unhappy housewife, because he had a girl waiting for him back home. It was a very distinct possibility at least.

“I wouldn’t have made fucking Belinda my wife even if I had stayed here,” he sneers when you reached the top of the stairs. “She’s the one that gave me that damn 'Freak' nickname.”

“No way,” you reply and you watch Eddie nod to confirm it. “She started that shit?”

“She did! She was a massive bitch.” Eddie tried to open the door at the top of the steps, but it wouldn’t budge. “Locked.”

“Oh shit. Wait.”

You took the remaining steps until you were standing next to him. The hallway was narrow and you were suddenly very much aware of how close Eddie was. You could feel his body heat radiating off of him as you fiddled with the lock.

“There,” you say and when you looked back up at him, you were looking straight into his warm brown eyes. “Open.”

“Hmm?” Eddie didn’t appear to have heard you, his eyes were on your lips the entire time. “What?”

“Open,” you cleared your throat and pushed the door open suddenly. “The door. It’s open.”

“Oh," he shook his head then, the spell broken. "Okay.”

With a gesture from your arm, very much copying the same kind of gestures he'd make all the time at girls back in high school, Eddie stepped into your place. You leaned against the cool wall for a moment to gather yourself before you followed him inside.

You had already been nervous, but your nerve levels had reached epic proportions now that Eddie was standing in your shitty living room with the old carpet flooring and looking at what was on your walls and what was on the shelves.

He had come to a standstill in front of a collection of picture frames and eventually plucked one from the shelf and held it up to you. “What the hell happened to these kids, huh?”

You didn’t have to look at it more closely to know exactly which picture it was.

Eddie was smiling in it, his signature grin on his lips, and you were sticking your tongue out at whoever had been taking the picture. The two of you must have been around sixteen. Both dressed entirely in black, you wearing a Joy Division shirt and him in an Iron Maiden shirt.

You were at some gig, you couldn’t remember who had been playing anymore, but you did remember how Eddie had wrapped his arms around you that night, his chin resting on your shoulder, to sing along with some cover that the band had played.

“God only knows,” you counter. “Bet they never saw any of this coming.”

That was only half true. Back then, Eddie had the same aspirations that he had since made a reality, to make it big with the band. Your dreams were a little bit more basic, but Eddie was involved in every single one of them.

God, you were such a sap.

“Cute.” Eddie had a different picture in his hand now and since you couldn’t see which one it was, you decided to join him. When you were close enough, he held it up for you to see. “I took this one, right?”

It was an old Polaroid. It was taken during another one of Hawkins’ hot summers. You were wearing a crop top and laying in the grass, a pair of Eddie’s sunglasses obscuring your eyes, your cheeks flushed from the heat with a big smile on your face.

It was probably one of the few pictures where you had a genuine smile, teeth on display and all, which was all down to the guy on the other end of the camera.

“Yeah,” you reach out to take it from him and smile at the memories that come flooding back in. “You gave it to me.”

“You haven’t changed a bit.”

The look in his eyes is softer than you expected it to be and there was something unreadable in there, too. You fumbled with the picture frame and would have dropped it if it hadn’t been for Eddie.

His large hands enclose yours and help you hold the frame more steadily. He opens his mouth, about to speak, when you suddenly tear your hands from his grip and put the frame back down where it belonged.

“Thanks,” you mumble quickly. “Butterfingers.”

You backed away from him slowly, saying something about needing to find the papers of the store. Eddie watches you open a drawer and pull out a couple of folders that were filled with paperwork before taking it to the dining table, which looked more like a dumping ground for various things, and going through them. You’re hunched over the table, every muscle in your body pulled taut as a bowstring from the nerves.

You never used to be this nervous around him, but then again, things had changed. It hadn’t exactly ended well, something that he still regrets and he hopes that he’ll be able to explain it at one point during his stay.

"Who's Chase by the way?"

Eddie had been curious about the guy ever since he had first spoken to you on the phone. He doesn’t miss how your shoulders stiffen at the mere mention of the name and how you release the breath that you’d been holding moments later.

"My ex husband," you reply in a deadpan voice.

"You were married?!”

"As I seem to recall, you’d gotten married, too. My marriage didn't get a mention in the gossip rags though.” It had been fairly big news at the time. Metal guitarist marries a squeaky clean actress. That wasn’t the actual headline of course, just what it had turned into in your head. They had been a very unlikely couple after all. “Mine lasted longer as well."

"Fuck you.” He laughs at his own stupidity. “It was a mistake, alright? I barely knew her. Hope that you knew your guy though."

You look over your shoulder at him. "You know him, too."

"The name doesn't ring a bell."

"Chase Wright?” you ask, but Eddie’s expression doesn’t change. “He was a center on the basketball team?"

"What?” He definitely recognizes the name now. “You married that douche?!"

"Eh," you shrug. "He was cute."

"You hated his guts," he counters with a sneer, still remembering how Chase used to treat others in school.

"People are allowed to change their minds, Eddie." You can’t keep the anger out of your voice, but the anger is mainly aimed at yourself, not at him. “People change.”

"Okay, fair enough." He held his hands up, signaling defeat. "I take it that he's not around anymore."

"Nope. Kicked him out when I caught him fucking a girl that used to work here.” You slam one folder down on the table to get some of the anger out of your system. “In our bed."

"Ouch."

"Ah well. He can go fuck himself,” you say dismissively. You didn’t want to waste any more time thinking about Chase. “Good riddance.”

“You never needed a guy anyway.”

“Huh?” You frown when Eddie says that and while you’re fairly certain that he meant it as a compliment, you’re still left confused by the remark. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You were always pretty independent and took shit from no one.” Eddie looks and sounds impressed as he recalls the person that you once used to be. Keywords being 'used to be'. “You were cool.”

“Things were different back then,” you say as you move onto the next folder with papers. “I wouldn’t exactly call myself cool now.”

“I would,” Eddie laughs.

“Shut up.” You laugh along with him and shake your head. “You’re way cooler. You made it, dude. Living the dream and all that bullshit.”

“Not entirely,” he says under his breath as his eyes scan the pictures again, especially the one of you sprawled out on the lawn of his uncle’s old trailer. “Got obligations now. Records to sell, gigs to play… it’s not all fun and games.”

“Yeah well, at least you don’t have to keep this place afloat.”

“I will if you find those papers.”

“Touché.”

“Why’d you really buy this place?” Eddie sees you freeze and can hear the piece of paper that you’re holding shake in your hand. “It couldn't have been doing much better before you took over.”

“Not really,” you say quietly. “I just couldn’t-” He hears you make a little triumphant noise then and sees you reach for the next piece of paper and hold it up. “Found it.”

It takes you a few seconds before you’re standing next to him again, handing him the deed that you’d just found. “This is what you need, right?”

Eddie looks at it and then back up at you again. Whatever you had been about to tell him, it was pretty obvious that he wasn’t going to get the answers that he sought right now.

“Yeah,” he eventually replies. “This is what I need.”

Maybe later.

Eddie called the guy that handled finances for him (he actually had a guy for that) and set things in motion on his end.

It should take a couple of days, but at the end of it Eddie would be the new owner of Hawkins Records and the future of the store would be secure.

Crazy when you thought about it.

It hadn’t been talked about in so many words yet, but you assumed that he would be fine with you staying on to run things and that you’d report to him every once in a while? You had no idea what Eddie wanted, but you knew for certain that he wouldn’t stay and run the store himself.

You celebrated your future joint venture with pizza, cheap beer and music. Owning a record store meant that you had plenty of albums to choose from and you swore that Eddie was like a kid in a candy store. You were more than okay with him picking the music and he had dug several gems out of your collection already.

While Motörhead’s Iron Fist is on the record player, an album that Eddie played so much that he ended up ruining the record when he was a teenager, talk turns to his love life when Sex & Outrage plays.

It was a song about groupies, which is something that Eddie thankfully does not discuss. You didn’t want to know how many girls came up to their tour bus in the hopes of getting lucky with one of the band members and you weren’t going to ask him about it either.

“You have no idea,” he says while you grab two new bottles of beer from the fridge. “It’s insane. I could barely get anyone to look twice at me in high school and now I can’t go anywhere without having girls write their phone numbers on whatever they can find and slipping them to me.” He takes a bottle of beer from your hand and pops the cap with his lighter. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” you say with a shrug. He trades his opened bottle for your closed one. “Must be tough, huh? All those models that want to fuck you all the time?”

“For the record, there’s only been one model and she was fucking exhausting.”

“I bet.” When he takes a sip from his beer, you see his nose crinkle, something that you mistake for disgust. “Sorry that it’s not the more expensive stuff, but we don’t really get imports here.”

“Honey, I like Miller. I’m not exactly a fan of that overpriced crap anyway.”

“Huh.” You took a swig of your own bottle and sat down on the lazy chair next to the couch that Eddie was sitting on. “So you’d rather spend your money on keeping a failing record store in business than treating yourself to the finer things in life?”

You reach forward to grab a packet of cigarettes and a lighter off the coffee table so you didn’t see how Eddie’s eyes focused on the collar of your tank top. You had not realized that you had flashed him a more than generous amount of cleavage.

“Like coke and hookers?”

“Call girls,” you correct him right before you lit your cigarette. “Hookers sounds too cheap.”

“And I don’t do cheap?”

“Seeing how you made it enough to buy your way out of Hawkins, why would you?” If you'd been in the same position, you'd be living it up, you knew that much at least.

“I’m still the same guy that I was back then.”

“Only with more money this time round." Corroded Coffin had come back from a very successful world tour only two months ago and there was plenty of talk of them working on a new album so it's not like they were doing badly. "And drowning in pussy, too, I reckon.”

“Pfffff. You keep bringing that up." He put his hands on the back of his head, leaned back and looked at you with raised eyebrows, like he was taking a bit too much satisfaction out of the fact that you seemed to be very much preoccupied with the state of his sex life. "Are you jealous?”

“Jealous of anyone that gets laid regularly," you elaborate. "Not like there are a lot of options round here for an alternative chick that runs a record store.”

The only guy in town who would have potentially been up for a hookup had been Steve Harrington, but a former cheerleader had managed to change Steve's womanizing ways. There was even talk of him buying her a ring to make it official, but who knew if that was actually true.

“There’s someone for everyone," Eddie declares and you're somewhat surprised that he even buys into that shit.

“I got burned one too many times," you counter. "I ain’t looking anymore.”

There’s a silence between you two after that statement. It came out sounding too harsh, too bitter, your words a little bit too scathing.

It was a barefaced lie, too, and you knew it, but the only guy that you ever truly wanted wasn’t exactly available to you. It didn’t matter that he was here right now, because he’d only leave eventually.

They all did.

“We made out once,” Eddie says quietly as he looks at you from the corner of his eye. “Long time ago.”

“Jesus!” you exclaim. “I can’t believe that you remember that.” Pretending that you barely remembered was the best course of action here. You weren’t going to admit to the fact that you still thought about that night regularly and how you regretted that everything had eventually slipped away from you. “I was high as a fucking kite.”

“And drunk.”

“Are you trying to tell me that you were taking advantage of me?”

“You think I needed to?" Seeing how the two of you went way back, it wasn't that hard for Eddie to see straight through your lies. "Fuck, you were throwing yourself at me before you’d even drank one beer.”

“I was not,” you say indignantly. “Besides, I seem to recall that you kept trying to look down my shirt that evening.”

“Was not!“

“You’re such a bad liar, Munson. Always have been.” You lean forward and try to kick his shin, but he pulls away just in time. “My tits were the first thing that you went for when we started making out.”

“Can you blame me?” He gestures at your rack. “Your tits were fucking amazing.”

“Still are,” you say under your breath, thinking that he hadn’t heard you and completely missing how his eyes drift down as soon as you had said it. “You were groping them as if you had no idea what to do with them.”

“Yeah, well, it was my first time feeling someone up, alright?" He flexes his fingers then, as if he was trying to remember exactly how they felt in his hands and you're briefly mesmerized by the seemingly simple gesture. "And I’d been obsessed with your rack for ages.”

“Really?”

“Fuck yeah, couldn’t get them out of my head.”

That one hookup had never really gone anywhere, though.

You had been teenagers, horny teenagers.

There had been tension between you for ages, that’s what you had thought anyway, and Eddie had been ogling you so blatantly that night, too. His eyes were drifting down whenever he thought that you hadn’t been looking and shooting up to your face whenever he thought that you noticed.

In the end, you had made the first move after a couple of beers and one shared joint. The kiss had been impulsive and while it had taken Eddie’s brain a couple of seconds to catch up to what was happening, he had matched your fervor when he kissed you back and pulled you into his lap.

It was just one night of kissing, groping and grinding on each other. A few hours full of breathless giggles, foreheads pressed together, shared breaths, you gasping into his mouth when he pulled you harder against him, his pupils dilated so far that you could barely see the brown of his irises anymore.

How it hadn’t ended with you in his bed was anybody’s guess, but it hadn’t. You vaguely remember the promises of wanting to do it right, wining and dining you properly, instead of fucking you in the back of his van.

Sadly, it had never gotten the chance to evolve into something more.

When the two of you had seen each other again on Monday, it was like nothing had happened at all.

Eddie had blushed furiously at first, but he had recollected himself fairly quickly, slammed his hand in between your shoulder blades and asked you if you had finished your homework, something that he had never taken much interest in before.

“You acted like it had never happened.”

“I was nervous, alright?” he admits. “I spent most of that Sunday jerking off whilst thinking of you on top of me so I kinda freaked out when I saw you again.”

“I tried to kiss you again the next weekend and you turned your head away.”

It was something that you had never forgotten. Despite the fact that he had acted off with you all week, you had still tried to repeat it the following weekend.

Eddie had not let you however. He turned his head away when you leaned in, your lips connecting with his cheek instead, and then he had excused himself.

It was the lowest that you had ever felt in your entire life. After sitting in stunned silence for a short while, you had headed back home and cried yourself to sleep that same night, because you’d been crushing on Eddie hard for ages and then he just… rejected you.

The Saturday night before you had been soaring high above the clouds and the Saturday night after, you crash landed back to Earth.

“I’m sorry, alright, I wasn’t exactly thinking straight.”

“I’ll say! We barely talked for the rest of the year!” you exclaim, still hurting over something that had happened a lifetime ago. “And then I graduated, went to college and we never spoke again. By the time I came back, you were long gone.”

“And I still regret that every single fucking day!”

That little outburst silences you for a bit. You got the sense that Eddie was as bothered by his own conduct as much as you had been back then. The way that he had responded to it, something that you had perceived as embarrassment that he had even let it happen at all, had ended a friendship of several years after all.

“Dude, why didn’t you ever just tell me?”

This entire conversation was draining you. When he had called you out of the blue two weeks ago to make his offer, you had wondered what he would do when he would find out that you were the one that ran the store now. You had never once counted on the fact that the two of you would have this long overdue conversation.

Part of you hoped that he had forgotten about it entirely, but it appeared to weigh as heavy on his mind as it did on yours.

“Instead you just tried to carry on as usual at first while I had to overhear stories of you hooking up with drunk chicks that came to watch you guys play at The Hideout. I fucking hated you by the end of the school year.”

Things had been tense between you after he had rejected you. Eddie had made an attempt to remain friends by pretending that he hadn’t utterly humiliated you, completely ignoring the fact that he might have needed to apologize. All the while you kept withdrawing from him.

Offers to come hang out or whatever else Eddie thought up were all met with excuses from your end, even using the famous “I need to wash my hair that night” line.

Eventually, he got the picture and left you alone completely.

“I know,” he sighs.

“You broke my heart, Eddie.”

“I know.”

“Is that all you’re gonna say?” You groan loudly and wipe a hand down your face in frustration. “Fuck, you never should have brought that night up to begin with. Would have been better if it had just remained in the past where it belongs.”

Getting up from the couch, you walked over to the small kitchen area and grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the counter. You opened it and took a drink straight from the bottle, not bothering to put it in a glass. The liquid burned as it went down your throat, momentarily taking your mind off things.

“That was my first kiss, you know.” You couldn’t resist, even if the hurt was clearly audible in your voice, you still wanted him to be aware of what he had done to you. “And you basically fucking ruined it.”

“I never meant to-“

“Well, you did. I felt like shit, Eddie. You were my best friend and then I lost you because of something stupid like that.” You took another gulp from the bottle, one so large that you gasped for breath afterwards. “I think that you should leave. Go ask Dustin if you can crash in his spare bedroom or something and then we can forget that this ever happened.”

“You want me to leave?”

“Yes! Just go back to whatever fucking mansion you live in right now. Sell your records, fuck your groupies… whatever.”

“You really think the worst of me, don’t you?”

“At least you got out of this shithole of a town,” you bit back. “I’m stuck here with all the fucking memories.”

“What memories?” His voice sounded a lot closer now and when you turned your head, you noticed that he was standing a few feet away from you. He closed the distance and leaned against the counter next to you. “Hey. What memories?” he repeated again.

“This place,” you said as you gestured around you, but really meaning the store down below. “And this dumb fucking town with its dumb fucking people that I can’t shake no matter where the hell I go. I got into Columbia for god’s sake! And look at me now! Running a record store in a town that I hate.”

“So it’s nothing but bad memories then?”

“No,” you replied quietly. “Not all bad.”

“So which ones are the good ones?” He slid in a little closer until his arm made contact with yours. “Wanna tell me?”

“No.”

Because he knew. The bastard fucking knew. He knew that all the good memories involved him. He just wanted to hear you say it out loud for once, for you to stop chickening out for once in your life and to tell him how you really felt.

"Why not?"

"Because."

Too embarrassing to admit to for starters, because how are you even supposed to voice something that you've only ever said in your head? Where would you even start?

"That's not an answer."

"It's all you're getting." You try to move away from him, the need to put distance between the two of you was overwhelming because you couldn't trust yourself around him. "It's late."

"Is it? It’s not even eleven yet." He called you out on your bullshit immediately. His fingers wrap around your wrist and he pulls you back against him. "What are you so scared of, huh?"

"Eddie."

"Come on, just answer the question."

"Don't make me," you say softly. He turned you around until your ass was pressed up against the kitchen drawers. Then he placed his hands on either side of you on the counter, effectively caging you in. His big brown eyes were practically burning a hole through you. "Please don’t make me answer.”

“I’m just curious, is all.”

“Why?”

“Come on.” His smile is warm and inviting, the same one that you remembered, and it was starting to sway you. “We’re old friends, aren’t we?”

“Yeah. I guess,” you shrug halfheartedly.

“You think that I’ll make fun of you or something?”

“I wish you would.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because maybe then I could forget you,” you blurt out. He looks at you curiously, head tilted to the side as he takes you in. His expressive eyes, which usually gave you so much, are unreadable now. Or maybe you just ignored everything that was swirling around in there, still convinced that nothing would come out of this. “If I ever packed up and left, it would be like closing the door completely. And I don’t want to. I can’t.”

“So it’s my fault that you never left?”

“Yes. Because despite everything, I kept hoping that you’d come back one day and seriously, why would you? Everybody hated you.” Almost everyone in town thought that he was some cult leader when all that the Hellfire Club did was offer a safe space for all the rejects. That combined with the fact that Eddie was always so unapologetically himself was a recipe for disaster in a town like Hawkins. “Why would you want to come back to a town that treated you like shit most of the time?”

“Honey, if I had known that you were here, I would have.”

“You mean it?” He nodded in reply. “Don’t lie to me, Eddie.” It sounded too hard to believe, like something made up just because he wanted to get laid, because that was where this was going, wasn’t it? You could feel the electricity crackle in the air between you from the moment that he set foot inside your apartment. “You really mean it?”

“Yes,” he replies and he looked honest enough, his big brown eyes seemed to hold nothing but the truth in them. He still couldn’t lie for shit. Not to you. “I never stopped carrying a torch for you. Kept hoping that you’d come to a gig one night so we could catch up, pick up where we left off, but you never did.”

“I was scared.” Your voice breaks at the last word and you can feel tears begin to well up in your eyes. “I couldn’t-“

“Shhh,” he put his index finger on your lips to silence you. “You’re here now.”

“That’s ‘cause I live here,” you chuckle weakly. “Can’t leave.”

“Lucky me.”

Eddie’s lips ensured that you wouldn’t be able to reply this time. The kiss was desperate and hungry. Your teeth clashed as you came together, but neither of you cared about the clumsiness of it.

This was something that both of you had been looking to repeat for many years now.

Twelve years to be precise.

And while both of you had matured during the years that you had been apart, you were also still very much the same in a way, as if you’d merely been playing at being grownups for all this time. As if time had somehow stopped ever since you parted, only to start again now that you were together again.

“Eddie,” you moan against his lips when he pushes you up against the counter so hard that he was in danger of hurting you. You'd definitely have some bruises to show for this in the morning, as proof that it really happened. “Is this- are we really doing this?”

“I’ve been thinking of nothing else for years, baby.” His hands cup your face desperately, tilting it further back so he can run his teeth down the column of your throat. As soon as they make contact with your skin, you start to make noises as if you are in heat. “Jesus. Keep doing that.”

“I will if you will,” you breathe back.

“Deal.”

His hands grab your waist and he lifts you up onto the counter. You instantly wrap your thighs around his hips and Eddie starts rutting into you a split second later. Every time his pelvis connects with yours, you could feel him growing harder. Whenever his cock presses into the apex of your thighs, you mewl and your eyes practically roll back into your skull every single time.

“Fuck, Eddie,” you dig your nails in his shoulderblades, no doubt leaving little crescent shaped imprints in his skin. “Want you so bad.” His hands slid under the hemline of your tank top, grabbing two handfuls of your tits within seconds. “I need you.”

“I know, sweetheart.” He pulls on the fabric that was covering your torso, almost tearing it in his eagerness to get it off. “Fuck, baby,” he growls when he got an eyeful of your chest. “You were right. They’re still fucking amazing.”

“You heard me?!”

“What do you think?” He buries his face between them and looks up at you. “Most perfect tits I’ve ever seen.” His tongue slides along the scalloped edge of the lace cups. “And you’re not bad either.”

“Shut up,” you lightly smack the back of his head. “You can always leave if you want to.”

“Are you kidding?” Eddie pulls the cups of your bra down, finally uncovering your tits. “I’ve been dreaming about this for years. I’m not gonna leave now.”

He finally stops talking, finally, and puts his mouth to good use. His lips latch on to one of your nipples and you throw your head back so far that the back of your head slams into the cabinets above the counter.

You swear loudly and Eddie pauses for a second, to look up at you and see if you were alright.

“Fine!” you all but shout. “I’m okay. Keep going.”

“Yes, ma’am. Whatever you want.”

Eddie dives straight back in, lavishing your tits in so much attention that you start grinding your hips against his, practically begging for sweet release.

“Goddammit,” he husks against the shell of your ear after his tongue had licked a stripe all the way up to your neck. “Your tits are perfect, sweetheart. Can’t get enough of ‘em.“

“Oh yeah?“

“Yeah.” He moves down again, licking at the pebbled skin around your painfully hard nub. “I want to paint them with my cum.”

“What’s stopping you?”

“Not yet, baby.”

Eddie pulls you against him, off the counter. As soon as your feet touch the ground, you kick your flip flops off and he turns you around so he can press his pelvis against the curve of your ass. You press back when you feel his bulge grinding into you.

“Don’t want to come too fast,” he whispers in your ear as his hands start undoing your jeans. “Want to take my time.” He yanks your jean shorts and underwear down roughly, pulls them over your feet and discards them next to him. “But you’ll get my cum eventually, don’t worry about that.”

“I wasn’t. Not worried at all-!” The last word turns into a high pitched yelp when his hand connects with your bare ass. “Jesus, Eddie.”

“Fuckin’ love it when you say my name like that, sweetheart.” He slides his hand between your legs and hums appreciatively when he finds out how wet you are. “You’re so wet.”

“Used to get like that all the time around you,” you admit, moaning loudly when his fingers brush against your clit. “You were a fucking idiot for never noticing it before. Was always worried you’d smell me or somethin’.”

“That bad?”

“Couldn’t go near you without soaking through my panties.” Eddie groans straight into your ear and it sends a flood of warmth straight down to your core. “All the fucking time, Eddie. I had it bad. Real bad.”

“Fuck, I-“ His fingers freeze suddenly and you whine while bucking your hips against his hand in an effort to get him to move again. “I wanna make it up to you.”

“H-How?”

“You’ll see.” He takes a step back and leans against the drawers next to you, leaning back far enough so he can see your face. “Think that you’ll like it.”

You watch him, wide eyed, as he lowers himself and sits on the floor, his back resting against the cabinets behind him. He grins widely, as was usual for him, takes your hand and pulls you to the side. You step over his legs until you’re standing astride him and he looks up at you, his grin bordering on feral now that your pussy is at eye level.

“This how you want me?” You run your hands through his short hair lovingly and he leans into your touch for a moment.

“This is exactly how I want you.” His eyes never once left your cunt and he blows hot air on it, the fucking tease, just to see you squirm. “I’m going to enjoy this.”

His hands grab the back of your thighs, right underneath your ass, and bring you in closer. He presses his lips to your mound, lingering there as he looks up at you. You nod once, giving him permission, not sure if he was even asking for it but giving it all the same.

Eddie hooks your right leg over his shoulder and spreads you open even further. You just know that your foot is going to hurt from the way that it’s wedged between the wooden doors and Eddie’s back, but you could care less.

You had been waiting for this moment for so long that you could deal with some slight discomfort afterwards.

When his tongue finally makes contact with your clit, you swear that you just died and went to heaven. The contact is minimal, a light swirl with the tip of his tongue, but it’s enough to make you shudder and make your lungs constrict.

You moan his name when his tongue dips in deeper, sliding between your folds, pressing against your entrance and it’s enough to make you squeeze your eyes shut so hard that you're seeing stars.

“Stay with me,” he breathes against your sopping folds, the warm air tickling you and making your hips jerk. “Stay with me, princess.”

“Feels so good, Eddie,” you choke out. “I’m not going to last.”

“You’ll have to,” he whispers against you, “Because I’m not gonna stop.”

His tongue works against you like he’s a virtuoso, as if he’d been practicing for this single moment his entire life, hitting you in all the right places with every swipe of his tongue. He played the guitar with the same dexterity, knowing full well that he was good with the instrument, one of the best in fact, and he plays you with the same level of confidence.

A pathetic whine bursts from your lips as he subjects you to this sweet torture, as if you were simply another one of his guitars, adding you to his already extensive repertoire.

You press your hands against the laminate counter hard, your torso bending forward and resting on your forearms, head hanging down as Eddie pulls the most inhuman sounds from your lungs.

The smug bastard smiles against you, enjoying seeing and feeling you come undone by his tongue alone, and then he moans, actually fucking moans, when he pushes his tongue as deep into your pussy as it could go.

It proves to be too much for you. Your entire body tensed up, all your muscles pulled taut, your mouth hanging open in a silent scream as your climax crests and peaks. It’s so intense it almost tears a hole right through you.

Only Eddie doesn’t stop.

Still caught in the aftershocks of your orgasm, breathing so hard that it feels like your lungs are on fire, your hips buck when you feel something probing your entrance.

You sob loudly, tears already pricking your eyes, as Eddie slides two digits into you - slowly, slowly - until they can go no further. He pulls them out completely and then slips them back in.

“P-please,” you cry out. “I c-can’t take any more.”

“You say that,” his voice sounds leisurely and relaxed, his breathing warm on your overworked cunt. “But your body keeps pulling me back in.” You groan in discomfort, but your body betrays you, your hips twitching and moving back and forth in time with his motions. “See? You want more.”

“Eddie-“

“You can do this,” his free hand connects your ass roughly and he laughs when you let out a loud yelp. “One more time. Indulge me.”

“Oh god.” Your voice wavers when he curls his fingers inside you, hitting your sweet spot and making a sudden jolt course through your body. “I really ca-“ Your voice goes up in pitch when his tongue touches your clit again. “D-don’t… s-st-stop…”

Those two words are enough to make him speed up. His fingers thrust up into you harder and faster and his lips practically attach themselves to your clit, sucking on the bundle of nerves and flicking at it with his tongue.

Your second climax is a scorcher and you come whilst screaming his name. Your body convulses, wanting to fold in on itself, and you claw at whatever you can simply to keep yourself standing upright when you feel your knee buckle underneath you.

Eddie unhooks your right leg from his shoulder and you can feel the muscles in it scream from soreness. You can feel a trickle of fluid flow down your thigh as his hands settle on your hips and he pulls you down onto his lap.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you lean into his chest and Eddie’s hands rub up and down your back gently as you come down from your high.

“You okay?” he finally asks when your breathing has normalized. He listens to you take in a shaky breath before you even say anything and he worries that he may have pushed you too far. “Talk to me.”

“It’s so unfair,” you mumble into his chest.

“Unfair?” Surprise is clearly audible in his voice, but you’re unwilling to move from your very comfortable current position. “What’s unfair?”

“I’m practically naked and you’re still fully dressed.” It makes him burst into laughter and even when he stops, his belly still shakes when he tries to contain himself. “Not funny,” you pout, even though you’re amused yourself.

Sitting back on his thighs, you pull on the collar of his shirt. Eddie hooks a finger underneath the strap of your bra, the only item of clothing that you’re still wearing even if it’s all askew, pulls it back until it snaps against your skin.

“You’re still wearing this.”

“Oh yeah, ‘cause it covers up so much.” You roll your eyes, reach around the back to unhook your bra and take it off. “Doesn’t change anything about the fact that you’re not naked.”

“Hmm.” He leans forward a little, his lips ghosting over yours as he grabs the hemline of his shirt, pulls it over his head and tosses it as far as he can. “This better?”

“A little,” you pout, trying to sound disappointed, but who could ever be disappointed when looking at Eddie’s inked chest? It was an amazing sight after all. “You got a lot more since I last saw you.”

“I was eighteen when you last saw me.” Your finger traces the demon head on his chest that you recognize, which has faded a bit over time. “Remember that one?”

“I was with you when you got it, so yeah, I do.” You bring both hands up to his chest, tracing all the new designs that he’s gotten since then, more intricate and colorful. “Do you even have any skin left for more?”

“Well, I have a couple of places…” He trails off, his cheeks coloring and a hand rubbing the back of his neck. “But the most important one is still empty.”

“Oh?” Your eyes go over the parts of his skin that you can see, but there’s barely any space left. “Where?”

Eddie takes your right hand, brings it up to his chest and places it right over where his heart is. “Right there.”

You move your hand away and sure enough, there’s an empty spot that you missed. It’s just about big enough for a name.

“That’s an important one indeed,” you muse as your fingers move back and forth over it. “Any thoughts on what you want there?”

The question was rhetoric, because it was painstakingly obvious what he had reserved that empty spot for.

“A name,” he replies. “Don’t act like you didn’t know.”

“I didn’t want to assume,” you grin. “You never know.”

Even though he had been married and had probably been with loads of women, it was still empty. So maybe that meant-

You shook your head. No way. There’s just no way.

“What’s up?” His voice is so low that it makes you shiver involuntarily.

He obviously wants to know what you’re thinking, but this is something that you can’t voice out loud, not yet, so you need to find a way to distract him somehow.

The easiest way to do that was to…

“Fuck,” Eddie groans when you grind your hips against his. You do it slowly, getting the maximum amount of friction out of it, and your breathing hitches when you angle your hips just right. “Distracting me?”

He knows what you’re doing, of course he does, but the way that he’s smiling tells you that he doesn’t mind.

“Wanna suck your dick, Ed,” you tell him. “Need to wrap my lips around it.” He swears under his breath and you look at him through your lashes, biting your bottom lip teasingly. “You gonna let me? You gonna put it in my mouth and fuck my face?”

“Jesus Christ,” he hisses. “You can't just- fuck. Can’t believe you just fucking said that.”

“Eddie,” you moan, really going in for the kill now. “I want to take all of it. Every. Inch.” You enunciate the last words clearly, emphasizing every syllable, your smile growing when you see his Adam’s apple bob up and down. “I want you to make me choke on it. You wanna see the tears stream down my face, don't you? From barely being able to fit all of you into my mouth?”

He grabs the back of your neck, pulls you close and slams his lips down on yours. He kisses you so hard that you forget to breathe and when he pulls away, he’s breathing just as hard as you are.

“When did you get so fucking filthy?”

“You don’t know half of it,” you wink. “What about it then? You want to see me on my knees with your cock in my mouth?”

Twisting your head to the side, you can feel his lips brush against the shell of your ear as he says, “You’re such a dirty little slut.”

His words send a fresh flood of warmth down to your cunt and all that you can reply is, “Uh-huh.”

“On your knees.”

You don’t need to be told twice. You’re off his lap in a flash and on your knees, ready and waiting for him. Eddie gets to his feet and his hands settle on his belt, but you brush them away quickly.

“Allow me.”

There was an overwhelming need to work fast, to unbuckle his belt quickly, yank his trousers down to his knees and stick his cock in your mouth, but it was way more fun to tease him.

Just a little.

Taking his shoes off is what you start with. You quite possibly draw it out a little bit too much, grasping the metal slider of the zippers, pulling them down tooth by tooth, holding onto his black boots as he steps out of them and then putting them side by side next to you.

Starting at his ankles, your hands skim up his jeans slowly, on the outside of his legs until you reach the top. You could have repeated that a couple of times, but decided not to.

That was more down to your own impatience rather than the temptation of pushing the boundaries, because there was nothing but amusement in Eddie’s eyes over your ability to even drag it out this long.

You undo his belt, taking care not to make your fingers brush over his crotch, where he was quite obviously straining away against the fabric in a way that was already making your mouth water. You were so ridiculously careful when you opened his zip too, fingers barely touching, your hands shaking like you were unwrapping the best present that anyone had ever given you.

Which is what he kinda was in a way.

His hand touches the top of your head, so tender that it makes you want to fucking cry, like you’re that same dumb teenager again that just wanted him to notice you and wanted him to pick you so desperately that you were blind to the fact that you’d had him all along.

You can’t even look up, too afraid to see the look in his eyes right now, so you grab at the fabric just above his knees and drag it down his legs. And you can’t even look at his boxer briefs, only catching a flash of the black item of clothing from the corner of your eye, but not focusing on it.

Not yet.

There ought to be something that you should be saying, but your tongue feels thick and your mouth dry as you keep pulling his jeans down, exposing his legs inch by inch until you pull it down his feet and leave it lying there.

When you finally hazard a glance up, Eddie’s expression is gentle, whatever bravado he always put on display was sorely lacking now. His eyes are unbearably soft instead, simply looking at the girl that he once knew, sitting on her knees in front of him and who seemed morbidly afraid to make a move.

“It’s okay,” he whispers. “It’s just me.”

As if he had to remind you of that.

But it was also exactly what you needed to hear right now and you lean forward, pressing your lips on his thigh softly, lingering there for a moment, before your hands move up to pull his boxers down.

When his cock finally pops free, proudly standing at attention, hard as a fucking rock, you almost gasp. Almost. You manage to restrain yourself, but he can see it written all over your face. The surprise and yes, the hunger, is all there in your pupils and in the little smile that materializes on your lips.

“Holy shit, Ed,” you whisper, impressed. “I’m definitely going to choke on that.”

“I’m counting on it,” he moans when you wrap your fingers around the base. You move your hand up once, just to feel the velvety shaft against your palm. “You just gonna keep looking at it?”

“Maybe,” you counter with a grin. You lick a stripe up his cock and he hisses through his teeth the second that your tongue makes contact with him. “Will that do?” Eddie raises his eyebrows as he looks down at you, head tilted to the side as if to say ‘are you serious?’ without saying anything at all. You try not to laugh and ask, “No?”

There’s a bead of precum glistening on the tip and you squeeze the base as you lean in closer. Your tongue darts out from between your lips to lick it away. The amount of contact he got out of this was minimal, so his hips press forward, chasing your mouth as you pull back.

“So impatient,” you chide. “That’s your problem. No self control.”

“You started drooling the second you pulled my pants down,” he answers. Unsurprisingly, he has called you out on your bullshit yet again. “Don’t deny it.”

“I’m not,” you reply as your fist gives a lazy stroke upwards. “Pretty damn hard not to considering what you’ve got packed away in your pants.”

With your hand still on his shaft, you keep moving it up and down slowly while also angling his cock out of the way. Eddie notices and was getting ready to ask what you were doing, his mouth already open, when you suddenly move in closer to take one of his balls in your mouth instead.

A low guttural moan bursts from his lips as your tongue moves in circles around the sac and your hand tugs on his cock at the same speed. When he swears under his breath, you start humming contentedly and he reaches down to grasp the back of your head, his fingers spread out, his thumb rubbing circles right behind your ear.

You move on to his other testicle, wanting to give the same amount of attention to both. His digits keep flexing, his fingernails scratching your scalp lightly, a gentle reminder that he could shove you down onto his length whenever he pleases and was merely holding himself back. You pull your head away slowly, tugging gently on his sac with your lips until you release him suddenly.

“Fuck,” he husks out, his voice low and hoarse. “That was insane.”

“You liked that, baby?”

“Thought it was obvious.” He runs a hand through his short hair. The errant curly lock of hair gets brushed back but it pops straight back out again a split second later.

“It was,” you grin. “But I still want to hear you say it.”

“Yes.” His voice is too level, too composed, so you lick up the line between his balls just to feel his cock twitch in your grip and he chokes out the next words. “Ye-yes, I did.”

“Good.”

Your eyes focus on his cock again, especially on the ruddy head this time. You lick your lips and you can’t stop yourself from smiling this time when Eddie whines above you. Your lips make contact with the tip so softly that he barely must have felt it at all, so you do it again, making sure that he feels your kiss this time.

“Still okay?” Your eyes are impossibly wide as you look up at him and Eddie’s pupils are so large that there’s barely any brown of his irises left. “Hm?”

“Great,” he chokes out and his voice goes up in pitch when you kiss his dick again, just below the tip. “Keep doing that.”

“Don’t mind if I do.”

How long you even manage to keep this up, you don’t know, but you don’t think that there’s a part of Eddie’s cock that you neglected. You’ve kissed your way up and down his shaft at least twice, sometimes using your tongue as well, and since Eddie never once asks or begs you to take him into your mouth already, you don’t.

It ends up being a natural transition.

You let your tongue circle his tip and Eddie can’t help himself as his hips press forward so you suck it into your mouth, just a couple of inches, nothing more before releasing him with a wet pop.

Eddie laughs breathlessly and swears under his breath. You can see that the fingers of one of his hands have curled around the counter. He’s gripping it so hard that his knuckles have turned white.

“Poor boy,” you say to get his attention, your voice dripping with mock sympathy. “Want me to put you out of your misery?”

Despite swearing once or twice throughout his ‘ordeal’, Eddie had been unusually silent. He blinks, focuses on you, and you can see his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallows. “Please,” is all that he manages to reply.

You manage to flash him one wicked grin before licking your palm and wrapping your fingers around his shaft once more. Then, without warning, you take him into your mouth and start sucking eagerly.

That seems to make Eddie’s tongue work again.

“Oh fuck,” he groans. “Fuck. Your fucking mouth. Jesus.” His vocabulary is limited and you can’t help but smile around him. “Don���t-don’t you fucking laugh at me.”

If your mouth hadn’t been full, you would have given him a smart ass reply, and the thought to do just that crosses your mind, but you ultimately decide against it. You had tortured the poor guy enough as it was, drawing it out any longer might unleash the beast.

A tempting thought indeed, but maybe later. Tomorrow morning perhaps?

Retaliation soon follows however. Eddie pushes his hips forward, forcing his length further into your mouth, and when he hits the back of your throat, you gag around him.

“Yeah, fuck yeah.” He sounds so desperate that you can feel a fresh flood of warmth pulsing from your cunt. “You promised, sweetheart,” he grunts out. “You fucking promised.”

And he was right. You did.

You explicitly told him that you wanted to choke on his dick, that you wanted him to make you cry and that he could fuck your face.

So far, you hadn’t exactly held up to your side of the bargain. But you would. You fucking would. You’d do anything for the guy and what was a little bit of momentary discomfort if it got him off? He could use you as a sex toy for all you cared, you would be anything that he needed.

When you released him, he let out a long groan of disappointment, convinced that you were teasing yet again and just when he thought that you were done doing that, too. It disappears just as quickly when he sees you spread your thighs a little bit wider, hands settled on your knees, in an attempt to get a bit more comfortable.

“You’re right,” you purr at him. “I did promise.”

Eddie swears that he must have ascended to a higher plain when you open your mouth and stick out your tongue, presenting yourself to him, waiting for him.

He’s seen it before of course, similar poses from faceless girls who’d come to him after gigs, crooning in his ear about how amazing he was. Their hands everywhere on the way back to the tour bus, hotel, alleyway, wherever, but they’d all end up on their knees, whining shit about how badly they wanted him and his cum.

It all hits a little bit different when it’s a girl that he’s wanted ever since he hit puberty. The girl that he watched get more beautiful with every passing day until he finally realized that, fuck, he was in love with you, making his peace with how it could never possibly be reciprocated, ignoring all the times that you’d bat your lashes at him, because no way, there was just no fucking way.

No. Never.

And then fucking panicking when it finally happened like a goddamn loser.

Thank fuck for this day.

“You’re serious?” He almost chokes on the words and it definitely doesn’t help when you nod, batting your lashes and looking at him as if he’s the only guy on the planet. “Fuck, sweetheart.”

It barely registers with him that his hand reaches down on instinct, knowing what to do now that his brain is close to short circuiting, moving on autopilot, settling on the back of your head. You whine the second that his fingers make contact, actually fucking whine, and he’s not sure if he can handle this for much longer.

“Keep sitting there, okay.” Despite the fact that you’d already made it clear that you would do just that, he still feels the need to tell you. “Tap my leg if it gets uncomfortable.” One of your hands releases your knee and grips his calf. “Good girl.”

He taps the tip of his cock against your tongue one, two, three times, before he slides inside. It’s purely exploratory at first, just to check if you’d stay in your position, to see if you won’t pull away at the first sign of discomfort when he hits the back of your throat.

Your eyes well up when he keeps his cock there, pressed as deeply inside that warm, wet cavern of your mouth as was possible for a few seconds and when he finally pulls out, you gasp.

“Good girl,” he repeats. “Good fucking girl.” He doesn’t give you much time to recover before he pushes back in. “Relax for me.”

Breathing in deeply through your nose, you relax your throat and he drives himself in deeper than before. When you blink, you can feel the tears start to leak out and slide down your cheeks.

Just as you promised.

“Fuck.” All his feelings of attempting to take it slow for your sake are replaced by this deep animalistic need to climax. He grabs your face, fingers digging into the flesh of your cheeks as he starts fucking your face in earnest. “Fuck. S-sorry, but- Fuck.”

The sounds that you make, your moans coming out all garbled from having your mouth full, only spur him on. Saliva pools in your mouth, covering his shaft and easing his passage. Every time that he thrusts in, it drips out of the corners of your mouth. Drool soaks your chin, running down the column of your throat which is currently being used for all it’s worth.

You feel his cock jump suddenly and then the first spurt of cum hits the back of your tongue. You swallow it all down obediently, his little words of praise mixed in with his moans working for you in ways that you never thought possible.

There’s almost a sense of disappointment when his hands release you and your mouth feels incredibly empty when he pulls his softening cock out. You rub your jaw, feeling as if you might have dislocated it just to fit all of him inside.

“I think that you sucked my soul out through my dick,” he pants as he sinks down onto the floor. “Shit.”

“My-“ You start talking, but your voice has been reduced to nothing more than a hoarse squeak. The second you hear it, you laugh breathlessly. “My throat is sore.”

“You don’t say,” Eddie replies and then you both laugh. You’re not able to keep it up for long, your throat still sore as it was, and he leans forward to put his finger on your lips. “Wait.”

Pushing his legs under himself, still wobbly, he turns to the counter and grabs the almost entirely forgotten bottle of whisky and hands it to you. You take a sip, coughing when you swallow, but feeling it soothes you a little as well.

“Better?” You nod and hand the bottle back to him. He takes a swig from it as well and sloshes the remaining liquid from side to side. There isn't a lot left so he holds up the bottle and asks, “Finish it with me?”

“Sure.” You settle down on the floor next to him, the vinyl underneath you a little stickier on your bare skin than you would like it to be. You nudge your shoulder into his and say, “You just asked me that because you can’t get up, huh?”

“Shut up.” He pushes back with a laugh. “Maybe if you didn’t give such killer head-“

“You wanted me to do worse?” You take the bottle from his hands and take another swig. “Because, you know, I could try to do badly next time and give you the sloppiest blowjob ever.”

“You’ll fucking kill me if you do that again.” Eddie puts his arm around you and pulls you closer against him. When you start to laugh, he says, “I mean it.”

“Oh, come on. No other girl has given you a good blowjob before?” You hazard a glance in his direction, but his gaze is so intense that you look away after a few seconds. “I don’t believe that for one second.”

“Maybe it’s more down to the girl doing it,” he shrugs. “Yeah. That’s probably it.”

“Big softie,” you reply with a chuckle. “Mister Big Rockstar has a heart after all.”

“Haven’t had possession of it for years,” he counters. “You stole it from me when I was a teenager after all.”

The giggle that escapes your lips makes you clamp a hand over your mouth. It was a full-on teenager with a crush type of laugh, giggling unnecessarily loud over something that the object of her affections had just said and it embarrassed the ever loving crap out of you.

You clear your throat, which is feeling a lot better now, and when you look at him, Eddie’s lips are pressed into a thin line as he tries to not burst out laughing over having elicited such a response from you.

“You want it back?” You sound a little bit angrier than you had intended and that does make him snort. “Fuck’s sake,” you huff without any real conviction. “Why can’t I ever be normal around you?”

“Because I like you this way,” he counters with a chuckle. Eddie turns his head, kisses your temple and then whispers in your ear, “And keep it. It’s always been yours anyway.”

“Lord,” you groan. “That’s so- fuck.”

You want to say that it’s awful or sentimental, cliché even, but you can’t help the way that your heart soars upon hearing his words. It literally feels like your heart has exited your body and is flying up over your head in little circles.

Your stomach is suddenly filled with millions of tiny little butterflies and they’re doing loop-the-loops inside you, running amok through your insides and threatening to burst out like less scary versions of alien chestbursters.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Eddie says with that infuriating grin. “I’m supposed to play it cool, right? Take it slow for a while first before ultimately dragging you on stage during a show and declaring my undying love for you as I reveal to a stunned crowd that you inspired dozens of songs?”

“No,” you snort. “That kind of shit is not for me.” But he would know that, hence why he even said it in the first place. “I don’t want grand, sweeping gestures. I just want you.”

“You’re such a sap.”

“Just like you apparently.” You squeal when he pinches your side. “Hey. Stop that.”

“Nope,” he replies as he does it again. “I’m never gonna stop doing that.”

“Guess I just have to-“ You pull away and lean forward, scrambling away from him on your hands and knees. Eddie manages to give you one well aimed smack on your ass before you get to your feet. “Not nice,” you say to him as you rub a hand over where he hit you, on the apple of your ass cheek.

“Thought you liked me that way.” Eddie leans his head back against the cabinet, his eyes sweeping over the naked expanse of your body first. He catches the tilt of your head, your eyes questioning. “What’s up?”

“…Did I?” Your sentence is half formed, the rest of it in your mind ever since a particular something had been said earlier, and his confused look makes you realize that you hadn’t exactly been clear. “I mean, did I inspire some songs?”

“Now that would be telling,” is his ambiguous answer.

“You’re a damn tease,” you tell him. “Anyway, I’m going to bed. You joining me?”

“I might,” he counters infuriatingly.

“Suit yourself.” You sway your hips exaggeratedly as you walk away and call over your shoulder at him, “You decide what you want to do, sleep on the cold floor alone or fall asleep while holding my warm body.”

When you reach the bedroom, you sit down on the edge of the bed, thighs open and pointed at the door and counting on your fingers. You manage to count to eight when Eddie finally appears. He stands in the doorway for a moment, leaning against the frame and taking you in.

His tongue moistens his lips and then he steps forward to take his place next to you in the bed. Your eyes fall on his half hard cock and you catch his smirk right before he starts kissing your neck.

There’s something on your mind that you need to address first however.

"Hey, can I ask you something first?" Eddie pulls back, your change in tone catching him off guard. "D-don't worry. Nothing bad or anything. I was just wondering."

"Think I know," he replies with a sigh. "You want to know why I never let it go any further back in high school."

"Yeah," you reply. "I never got it and you never talked to me about it either. I always thought that it was…” It was remarkable how all your teenage insecurities from back then just came flooding back and you can’t even look at him when you finish your sentence, “Thought that you didn't like me as much as I hoped… or that I wasn’t good enough… for you."

"Ah, Jesus." You feel his hand on your cheek, his fingers brushing up and down, but he doesn’t make you look at him. "No, that wasn't it at all."

"Then what?” You really wanted to know, you deserved to know. “I spent years agonizing over this."

"You probably don't even remember," he starts to say as he reaches out to take your hand in his and lace his fingers through yours. "We got the grades for some test back that week and I’d failed, as usual, and you had aced it. I already knew that I wasn't going to graduate that year and I figured that I'd only hold you back."

"That's bullshit and you know it."

"That's how I felt though. You had this big dream of going to Columbia and I had nothing since I knew that I’d be stuck in Hawkins for another year,” he sighs, sounding a little embarrassed. “I was worried that you wouldn't go and yeah, it was really fucking stupid of me, but I did it for you."

"You shouldn't have decided that all on your own.” If only he had talked to you about it, things could have at least ended amicably, not with your heart shattered to pieces all over the floor. “God, you're such a jackass."

“I know. I realize that now. That’s why I was so glad that you were here, that I found you again.” He squeezes your hand and brings it up to his lips, kissing the back of it and letting his lips linger there as he continues. “It felt like I got a chance for a do-over, like I was getting a second chance to make things right.”

“I thought that you’d only be disappointed, that you’d just walk out on me again.” A very small part of you still thought that all of this was some elaborate joke. Even if you knew that Eddie would never do that, it was a hard feeling to shake. “I kinda… can’t stop myself from thinking that, even now,” you admit with a shuddering breath.

“I’d never do that,” he gives you a quick kiss. “Never,” he repeats while staring deep into your eyes, so you can see how honest he’s being. “You honestly have no idea how much that dumb decision weighed on me over the years, how much I regretted letting the girl that I loved more than anything slip through my fingers.”

You pull your hand away from him suddenly and for a second there he thinks that that’s it, you’ll never forgive him for what he did to you. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why was he even that big of an asshole? How could he ever have treated you like that? He was such a fucking-

His train of thought stops completely when you straddle his thighs from out of nowhere and you tap his forearms, mouthing the word “up” at him.

Eddie doesn’t even question it, lifts his arms instantly and lets you maneuver them the way you wanted, palms held up to you and you press your much smaller palms against his, lace your fingers through his and squeeze.

“There,” you say with some finality in your voice. “Can’t slip away if I do this, huh?”

The smile that you flash at him almost makes him choke and well up with tears, but then the look in your eyes makes him want to laugh until he cries because he can see what you want to say written all over your face.

Mister Big Rockstar. Such a fucking pussy. Practically in tears because we’re holding hands.

But that’s only half of it.

Throughout his time in Hawkins, you’d always been there in some way, ever since you were little kids. One day, you’d simply sat down next to him and gave him half of your strawberry jelly sandwich when his parents had failed to give him lunch that morning (which they usually did).

That was how the friendship had started.

After his mother died and his dad went to jail, his uncle Wayne had taken him in and the two of you became a very permanent fixture in Eddie’s life. Until he had fucked it all up, which he had all done for you as he had kept telling himself.

Still tore his heart in two every time that he saw you in the hallways at school after you had shut him out completely. It constantly made him want to run after you and drag you into an empty classroom, so he could explain why he had done what he did, but if he told you that there was always a chance that things could get worse.

Not like now, when you’re both older and wiser, and there’s no chance of either one of you running off. You could talk about it now, as adults, or some version of it at least, because Eddie still doesn’t feel very ‘adult’ if he’s totally honest.

The unshed tears are for the connection that he had with you for years, one that he threw away thinking that it would be better, but he got you back now. He’s right here, in your house, your bedroom, and yes, he loves you, always has.

You kiss the corners of his eyes and murmur, “What are you thinking about?” against his skin. “Talk to me.”

“Nothing,” he says too quickly and the way that you’re looking at him tells him that you don’t believe him at all. “Okay,” he chuckles instead. “You. I was thinking about you.”

“I’m right here,” you answer with a smile. “So you don’t have to think about me. Not when I’m right in front of you.” You release his hands and loop your arms around his neck. One of your hands moves to the back of his head, your fingers playing with his short hair, pulling on the curls. “I miss the hair.”

“Oh yeah?” You nod. “I could grow it long again. For you.”

“That’ll take ages.” You grab a handful of his locks and yank his head back. “Besides, it’s long enough to pull.”

“Little minx.”

“It was too tempting, I couldn’t help it.” His hands circle around your waist and his impossibly big brown eyes glaze over again. “Stop doing that. Just tell me what’s on your mind.”

“You. It’s always been you.” His honesty is making your cheeks burn. That was always the thing about Eddie, he could be brutally honest at times and he wasn’t trying to hide anything from you now. “I’m making you uncomfortable, ain’t I?”

“No, not really.” You press your cheek against his shoulder to avoid his intense gaze. “Just can’t deal with you looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

Pulling away, you sat up straight and looked into those impossibly deep brown pools that were his eyes again. “Like that.” You knew that it didn’t explain anything, but you would damn well try. “Like I’m… I don’t know… special.” When the corners of his mouth turned up into a smile, you covered it with your hand. “I know that it sounds stupid,” you laugh. “I can’t come up with the words to explain it.”

“You are special,” he mumbled against your hand. When you looked at him quizzically, despite having heard him perfectly, he repeated himself. “You’re very special.”

“Sap,” you giggled. “You’re pretty special yourself. You’re everything.”

It was a spur of the moment confession and not something that meant much of anything, but it still meant the world to Eddie. He kissed your palm and you let it drop away from his mouth, fully expecting him to lick it next.

That hadn’t been on his mind at all.

For most of his life he had been told that he would amount to nothing, just like his dad, and he had proven every naysayer wrong since then. Even when he was getting ready to skip out of town with his friends, with nothing but a crazy dream and some cash that they had saved up, there were still people that tried to talk him out of it.

The only one that believed in him was his uncle. And he was sure that you would have believed in him, too, would have told him to go and to never look back if you had still been around.

So you telling him that he was ‘everything’ had unexpectedly hit a soft spot.

Pressing forward, he kisses you then, hard. As if to somehow confirm that you’re really here, that this is really happening, that you’re not some kind of mirage that his mind had conjured up.

“Calm down.” You place your hand on his chest and gently push him back to put some space in between you two. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“You’d better not,” he replies. He runs a hand from your shoulder blade down to your ass and he squeezes the pliant flesh hard enough to leave a mark. “Feel that?”

“What kinda question is that?” you laugh. “Yeah, I felt that. Wanna do it again?” He repeats it, squeezing harder this time and digging his short fingernails into your skin until you let out a soft moan. “I swear to god, if you skip town tomorrow morning, I will never fucking forgive you.”

“If I’m leaving, I’m taking you with me.” You stare at him as if he just lied to you, as if this is just sex to him and he just told him what you want to hear. “I’m fucking serious, babe. I need you with me.”

He was offering you a ticket out, which was all that you ever wanted, but now that you have it, you don’t know what to say.

So you kiss him instead.

The kiss turns fiery, into a battle between lips with tongue and teeth thrown in, and you’re left gasping into his mouth as his teeth gently close around your bottom lip and pull. Eddie gasps himself when you reach down to wrap your fingers around his now fully erect cock.

“Need to fuck you,” he pants against your cheek. “Please let me fuck you.”

“Lay down,” you answer. “Scoot back on the bed and lay down for me.”

When you pull away, you do it with reluctance. It would have been far easier to simply sink down on him before, but you want him in a different way.

“Good boy,” you say when he does as he’s told, laying in the middle of your bed with his head pressed back against the pillows. You can tell that he likes being called a good boy so you store that away for later usage.

Moving up the bed, you straddle his waist and you press down against his stomach, making sure that he’s able to feel exactly how wet you still are. Reaching a hand back, you grasp his hardened shaft and give him a few tugs until Eddie bites his bottom lip.

“I’m gonna ride you,” you tell him as you move back a little, your wet cunt hovering over him. “That okay?”

“Y-yeah,” he hiccups. “I want you to.”

“Such a good boy.” You can see him shiver and it makes you snicker. “Don’t worry. Good boys get what they deserve.”

You position his cock in front of your entrance and sink down on him. Just a little at first. You pause when his tip has slid in and you moan exaggeratedly. You take some more, moving down until he’s about halfway in and when you look at Eddie, his expression has a slightly pained quality to it.

“You’re so big, Ed,” you keen out as you wink at him. He slaps your ass and the noise of the impact reverberates through the room.

“Brat.” His hands grab your hips and he pulls you down onto him a little bit more. “Stop teasing.”

“But it’s such fun. Don’t you like it? Not even a little bit?” Before he can say that he does or doesn’t, you shift your weight and his cock slips fully inside you. The two of you moaned in unison. “Fuck.”

For a short while, you don’t move, simply marinating in him, adjusting to his size and how full he made you feel. His fingernails had broken through your skin from how tightly he was gripping you, but you barely even noticed. Not when Eddie was underneath you, his eyes half-lidded and looking up at you with such a lustful gaze that it should have killed you on the spot.

“I’m gonna move now,” you mewl as you rock your hips back and forth experimentally. “Holy shit, Eddie.”

“Good?” You bite your lower lip and rotate your hips as your eyelids flutter shut. “Fuck, you look so good like that.”

“N-not so bad yourself,” you manage to reply with your eyes still closed, the image of him burned into your irises. You happen to angle your clit just right against the trail of hair that ran down from his belly button and gasped out, “My god.”

“Just me,” Eddie chuckled smugly. “But thanks anyway.”

“Bet you get that a lot, huh?” Maybe that wasn’t the right thing to think of now, Eddie with other girls, all of whom probably worshiped him. You open your eyes and lean down over him, your face inches away. “But you should probably be worshiping me instead.”

The boldness of your words almost makes you laugh, but the way that his hands gripped you tighter, stopping you from moving against him altogether, the little moan that escaped his plush lips and the way that his pupils seemed to grow even larger for a millisecond there…

“Oh god.” You couldn’t help the wicked tone that seeped into your voice as you talked. “Are you into that?”

“Y-yes.” His reply is bordering on bashful. “Want you to use me.”

“I will,” you say as you sit upright once more. “I damn well will.”

If that was what he wanted, who were you to deny him this?

Lifting yourself up, you groan as he slides out and before his cock can slip out entirely, you slam your hips back down. His hands shift to your ass, pushing you up when you move, but apart from that Eddie doesn’t offer much assistance.

This is all you.

“This what you want, pretty boy?” you ask while you play with your tits. He didn’t even have to answer your question, because it was written all over his face. “Me using you just to get off?”

“Fuck yeah, sweetheart,” he manages to answer. “That’s why I’m here-“ His sentence is cut off with a harsh gasp when you slam your hips down on his particularly hard, temporarily making him forget to draw another breath when the walls of your cunt grip him particularly hard. “Oh god yeah. Fuck. I’m here… j-just for you.”

“Good.” You place your hands on his stomach, pressing down on his sweat slicked skin. The same glistening sheen stuck to your skin as well, partly from the stifling heat outside that got in through the open windows but mostly from how hard you were exerting yourself. “Such a-fuck!”

Both of you swore loudly as you found an angle that was particularly good for both of you. You worked hard to find it again, angling your hips and grinding down so hard that it should have been intolerable, but your legs quivered every time that you got it just right. 

The muscles in your thighs and abdomen flex as you keep up your rough pace, riding him roughly, and chasing the friction that would make your toes curl which was steadily building in your gut. Eddie keeps balancing you with his hands on your ass, rocking you a bit more forcefully.

Your right hand shifts and slides up, to the empty spot, right over his heart. You can’t stop yourself from digging your nails into his pectoral muscle and you feel it jump under your palm. You drag your nails over it, creating red marks, to give him something to fill up the space for a short while.

You want to leave your mark. Desperately.

If Eddie notices what you’re doing, he doesn’t say anything. All he does is lay underneath you, his hands tight on your ass, gripping so hard that the imprint of his hands were going to be on your flesh for days afterwards. Several stray strands of hair stuck to his wet forehead and you swore that you could see beads of sweat slide into his hairline every time that you moved. His blown out pupils are on your face at all times, as if he doesn’t want to miss a thing at all.

You wink at him and he chuckles. “You’re crazy.”

“No doubt about it,” you groan. “Oh fuck, Eddie, you’re in so deep.” You gyrate your hips against his once before leaning back, your hands planted on his thighs and moving your hips up and down. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. You feel so fucking good.”

Your jaw goes slack when Eddie pushes his hips up, pressing himself even deeper inside than before, practically impaling you. Your head falls back, your eyes on the ceiling, and you jump slightly when you feel his thumb pressing against your clit.

His eyes are on the point where your bodies meet, where your cunt is dripping with your slick so much that he can feel it oozing down and coat his balls. The sound of skin slapping against skin, the sickening squelch every time that your pussy slams down on his cock, is like music to his ears.

The change in pitch of your voice, turning your desperate mewls into words that got strung together and mashed into one long continuous string of “ohfuckyessoclose” until it was reduced to nothing but “pleasepleaseplease” over and over again.

The words get more strangled the harder he rubs against the swollen bundle of nerves, your walls bearing down and constricting him, until one loud cry bursts from your lungs, his name, and the coil in your belly finally snaps.

Your orgasm washes over you with all the force of a tidal wave and your arms almost buckle behind you when it hits, but you just about manage to keep yourself upright. Eddie’s hands grip your hips tightly, taking over and fucking you through your blinding climax, chasing his own release as he rams himself up into you.

“Where?” His voice manages to pierce through the deafening rush of blood in your ears. “Where do you-“

“Inside,” you choke out. He doesn’t have to finish his sentence for you to know what he’s asking. “Come in-inside m-me.”

The words are barely out of your mouth when you feel his cock twitch, pumping wave after wave of cum inside you. He wouldn’t even have been able to pull out if you had told him to.

Eddie manages a few more tiny thrusts up into you until he’s completely spent. The tension in his muscles eases and his hands move to your lower back in an attempt to pull you forward.

You collapse on top of him a bit harder than you intended, a small “oomph” pulled from his lungs which made you snort out a laugh. He wraps his arms around you, holding you close and you briefly feel his lips connect with the top of your head.

You settle against him, your ear pressed to his chest, and you listen to his racing heartbeat, listening as it calms down and turns into a steady drum inside his ribcage. You can feel your eyes begin to close, seconds away from nodding off, when his hand clutches yours. Your fingers lace together, like they had done many times that night, and you hoped they would do many more times after tonight.

“I meant it, you know,” Eddie says softly, not sure if you’re already asleep or not since you hadn’t moved at all.

“Hm?”

“Everything that I said tonight.” Your mind floods with all kinds of words, there had been a lot of talking in between other things after all. “Every single word.”

“That’s nice,” you murmur, not really in the mood for talking as you drift off to sleep. You’d be kicking yourself for that dumb reply in the morning.

“I love you.” His lips touch the top of your head and they stay there. “Always have.”

“Mm,” you can’t stop yourself from yawning. “I love you too, Eddie.”

“Get some sleep,” he chuckles. “I wore you out.”

You’re too far gone to come up with a smartass reply and barely manage to mumble a “goodnight” to him before you finally doze off.

You didn’t sleep long. Your body had grown an inbuilt clock, ensuring that you woke up at around the same time every day, all because of the store.

Didn’t matter that it was Sunday today, you woke up early regardless.

Despite knowing full well what happened the night before, you’re still kind of surprised to find Eddie next to you when you wake. It takes some time for the realization to set in that it’s still ridiculously early, especially for him. Eddie had never been a morning person and you sincerely doubted that that had changed in your years apart.

When he stirs next to you, which was possibly because he could somehow sense that you were awake, you press your lips against his collarbone. His eyes slowly open, his vision momentarily bleary, and he needs to blink a few times to uncloud his eyesight and focus on you.

“Morning,” he croaks before yawning. “Fuck, it’s too early.”

“For you maybe,” you murmur while leaving a trail of kisses from his shoulder up to his neck. “You can go back to sleep.”

“When you’re kissing me like that?” He still sounds groggy, voice low as he rubs the palm of his hand over his closed eye. “Fat chance.”

“I’m not doing anything,” you grin. When you nip at his jaw, he lazily swats a hand against your arm. “Whaaaat?”

“Tease.” Tilting his head down, your lips finally meet, morning breath be damned. “Morning.”

“Morning, handsome.” His lips freeze and you can actually hear his breathing stall as well so you push yourself up and hover over him. “Did that just elicit a response?” you tease, poking a finger in his side. “Handsome.”

“I-I-“ His cheeks flush pink and a gleeful giggle erupts from your mouth. “I just like it, okay?”

“Aw,” you coo. “Don’t be embarrassed. I think that it’s cute.” Eddie covers his face with his hands and if anything, it just made him look even more adorable. “Alright, alright, I won’t make fun of you.” He spreads his fingers so he can fix one eye on you and then you throw in a quick, “For now.”

He rolls over on his stomach very dramatically with an unnecessarily loud groan and you’re torn between teasing him some more and throwing yourself on top of him.

You do neither, opting instead for getting out of bed completely. You’re only just grabbing a pair of panties out of one of the drawers next to the bed when you hear the bed creak.

“Come back to bed,” Eddie says behind you.

You’re ready to deny his request and you probably could have done it if you hadn’t turned around to face him. The sight of Eddie Munson, butt naked, would be a view that you knew that you would never tire of.

And you already knew that you would be unable to deny him anything.

Without arguing, you joined him again, dropping the underwear on the floor where it would lay completely forgotten for the next few hours.

“No witty replies or smart comebacks?” Eddie asks while you snuggle into his side. “Nothing?” You write the letters ‘N’ and ‘O’ on his stomach and remain silent. “I’ll just enjoy the silence then.”

The silence is pleasant, not uncomfortable like it can be sometimes, instead you lay there and listen to his heartbeat and his steady breathing. He draws patterns into your skin, wherever he can reach, swirls and waves and something that you think are supposed to be leaves and flowers, like he’s painting on you with an invisible brush.

“How quickly can you pack?” His voice is the first thing that cuts through the silence, just as he’s in the process of drawing star after star onto your skin. “Just the essentials so you’ll be good for a couple days.”

“Pack? Pack what?”

“You know, clothes, toothbrush, that kind of thing.”

“I can’t just leave,” you reply as you tilt your head up to look at him. “What about the store?” Even when you had been running nothing but losses for a while now, your first thoughts were of nothing but the store.

“We can get someone to open it up while you’re away?” he offers, his brow furrowed in confusion. “You know that you won’t be able to open the store every morning when you’re living with me, right?”

A half remembered comment from last night pops into your head suddenly, of Eddie saying that you would be coming with him if he left.

“You were serious?” you blurt out suddenly.

“Was I-“ When he shifts underneath you, you move back and sit up. Eddie does the same. “You thought I wasn’t serious?” He actually looks a bit hurt and that in turn makes your heart ache, too. “I’m not the kind of guy that says stuff like that just so I can get laid. You know me.”

“I do, I do.” You start backtracking immediately, not even sure what you want to say when you open your mouth. “It’s just that I’ve been disappointed before, so I don’t know, it sounded too fanciful,” you say apologetically.

“I would never, ever, play with your feelings like that.” He sounds so sincere that you immediately take his word for it. “That Eddie is long gone. I’m so fucking serious right now.”

You avert your eyes, ashamed, feeling awfully foolish right now. You feel his fingers on your jaw and your eyelids flutter shut when he rubs circles against your cheek with his thumb.

“I want you,” he repeats. “You think that I can go back after I got a taste of you? No fucking way. You’re coming home with me and you’re staying right there while I spoil the shit out of you. Fuck, I might even buy a ring to make it official the second I- we get back.”

“Eddie.” You gasp out his name, his sudden declaration enough to make your heart skip several beats. “That sounds good to me, but maybe not make promises that you can’t keep?”

“You doubt me?” He moves so that he’s sitting on his knees on the bed, arms gestured out to you dramatically. If it wasn’t for the fact that he was stark naked, you might even call the pose somewhat chivalrous, but it just looks a bit silly right now. “You doubt the devotion of Eddie the Bard?”

“Oh god!” You smack a hand against his chest and laugh loudly. “You’re such a dork.”

“Milady, I am deadly serious.” And he looked it, too. “Honest.” He reverts back to his normal self, grabbing your hands and holding them to his chest, his expression all serious. “You’re mine. I’ve known that since I was thirteen and covered in acne. I was a pussy about it before, but I’ve grown up since.”

“Barely,” you giggle. He tilts his head to the side and tries to give you his best disappointed look. “I couldn’t resist. Sorry, not sorry.”

Eddie rolls his eyes and continues, “As I was saying, before you so rudely interrupted me…” He presses your joined hands to your sternum and says, “Mine.” Then moves them to his chest. “Yours.”

He has the audacity to look slightly uncertain then, as if the prospect might somehow offend you, as if he was offering you something that could potentially be unwelcome and make you throw it back in his face.

“You know,” he mumbled before looking away. “If you want to, that is.”

As if you would say no.

“I want,” you reply softly, so softly that it’s barely a whisper, that he might not have heard at all, so you say it again. “I want.” And he definitely heard you that time. “Of course I do.”

His face lights back up immediately, as if millions of fireworks just went up into the sky, and he looks like he’s seconds away from screaming “REALLY?” and jumping up and down on your bed, but instead he surges forward and kisses you so hard that the two of you fall back on the mattress.

It feels like he kisses you for ages and your bodies start to move together languidly, with him growing hard against you. When he pulls away to draw in a deep breath, he gives you a dopey smile and your eyes are inexplicably drawn to that single curly lock of hair that’s draped over his forehead.

“Is that deliberate?” you ask as you flick at it with your fingers. “Do you pull that out every single day until it looks just right?”

“That’s what you want to talk about now?!”

“It’s been driving me insane since yesterday!” Eddie starts to laugh and you can feel your cheeks begin to heat up. “I’m sorry alright!”

“I’m not telling,” he chuckles. “So you’ll just have to deal with not knowing.” He sways his head from side to side and your eyes keep following the bouncing curl around as he does it. “Look at me.” You tear your eyes away from his hair with some reluctance and stare into his eyes which are as brown and warm as a mug of hot chocolate. “Mine?”

“What do you-“

“Mine?” He repeats himself a bit more sternly this time.

“Yours,” you answer. “I-I’ve always b-been yours.” You can feel your heart skipping a beat from his scrutinizing gaze. “Y-you said that I’ve had your heart for a long time, but the same thing goes for you.” You reach for one of his hands and place it over your heart like he had done yesterday. “It’s always been yours.”

Eddie looks at you as if you had just told him all the secrets of the universe, something a lot more important than a simple confession of love at least, but then his gaze turns hot and you close your eyes a split second before your lips meet again.

This time you could practically taste it, the promises, the devotion, the love. It was in every single movement of his lips against yours. You were an idiot for doubting his intentions for even one single second. How could you ever doubt him? You blame it on last night’s alcohol. It must have briefly clouded your judgment, muddying your mind and dragging up all your teenage uncertainties.

Those thoughts fade with every kiss. The way that Eddie kisses you makes it easy to forget all about your worries and doubts, tears it all down to its bare bones until it’s nothing but a boy and girl who have been denying themselves this for way too long.

There was no rush this morning, you could take it as slow as you wanted, and Eddie seems to want that as well, his movements slow as molasses in January.

His lips move away from yours, kissing and nipping down your jaw, moving against the shell of your ear where he softly murmurs, “That curl… I pull that one out on purpose every single day.”

“I knew it!”

[maracujatangerine]

80. A mysterious letter

CW: none

Yến carefully picked her way through the puddles that pooled on the concrete steps. Her purple converse were already damp, but she wanted to keep them from getting soaked.

She halted for a moment to shake off the black umbrella she’d borrowed from the newsroom, before stepping through the double doors in front of her. Warm air and the characteristic scents of steel, burnt rubber, ozone and people enveloped her.

Luckily, the train was on time and since it was the middle of the day there was a place for her to sit. She used her free hand to pull her ponytail tighter, glancing at her reflection in the window against the backdrop of never-ending night.

Checking the time on her phone, she leaned back in her seat. No rush.

Absentmindedly, she looked at the tattoo curving up the inside of her left underarm; -30- in black ink, flanked by flowers.

Yến had got the tattoo just the year before, while still in college. Her parents had been… displeased, to say the least.

But it had seemed so romantic to her, even important. She had wanted to use the old sign that indicated the end of a submitted article, to inscribe it on her own body as a way of showing her commitment to the values of truth and justice that she shared with the journalists who’d gone before her in the annals of history.

Of course, that was way before she had actually got her first job. Now, after months of reporting on cat exhibitions in Queens, petty conflicts between neighbours in Staten Island, the World’s biggest barbecue in Brooklyn and other odds and ends of community reporting that her colleagues happily pushed over to the youngest and greenest in their newsroom, her commitment to truth and justice looked more than a little ridiculous, even to herself.

This assignment was no exception. Her co-workers had laughed out loud when the letter had arrived. Written by cut-out pieces of text from newspapers and magazines, the message had been carefully taped together into what looked like a ransom letter from the opening scene of a second-rate detective series.

“Important info!” The letter read. “Bryant Park, W 42nd Street. Right lamp at entrance. Brown envelope. 14:00 hrs. Today.”

“Miss Nguyễn Thị Yến,” her editor James had said, with mock formality. “I’ve got a job for you.”

”Are you really going to send her?” Barbara had interjected. “What if it is dangerous?”

“Nah!” James had shaken his head. “It is most likely a marketing trick. Or nothing at all.” To Yến he continued. “But you can make a story about the hunt for it. Take some photos on the way, and describe the scenes for the readers. It will be a light fluff piece. Okay?”

Yến had nodded, of course. But before she left, Barbara had handed her some plastic gloves and a transparent ziplock bag.

“If it looks like a bomb, don’t touch it. And use the gloves, remember the anthrax scare.”

Now, well on her way, Yến felt a sting of concern, what if Barbara was right? But all her other colleagues had thought that it was just a joke, or some business looking for attention. James wouldn’t send her out alone if he had thought it was risky. She decided that she would use the gloves, anyway.

The rhythm of the swaying train, the hissing stops and starts, her early morning start, it all made her feel a bit sleepy. She closed her eyes, just for a moment.

Fun fact

”-30- has been traditionally used by journalists in North America to indicate the end of a story or article that is submitted for editing and typesetting. It is commonly employed when writing on deadline and sending bits of the story at a time, via telegraphy, teletype, electronic transmission, or paper copy, as a necessary way to indicate the end of the article.”

So says Wikipedia, and also adds the fascinating fact that no one knows where the term came from, but that it might have its roots in the American Civil War era.

Tag List Part 1: @cupcakes-and-pain @whump-em @whumpzone @wh-wh-whu @neuro-whump @carnagecardinal @cowboy-anon @whump-me-all-night-long @redwingedwhump @myst-in-the-mirror @haro-whumps @eatyourdamnpears @bloodsweatandpotato @pinkraindropsfell @whumptywhumpdump @theydy-cringeworthy @whump-in-progress @whumpsy-daisy @nicolepascaline @whumpcreations @briars7 @shiningstarofwinter @whumppsychology @alex-ember @miss-kitty-whumptastic @whumpy-writings @in-patient-princess @youtube-fandoms-bands @goblinchildindabog @mazeish @distinctlywhumpthing @inpainandsuffering @canniboylism @icannotweave @incoherent-introspection @kim-poce @broken-typewriter @the-monarch-whumperfly @whumpers-inc @grizzlie70 @lil-whumper @writingbackwards @sunflower1000 @wingedwhump @thecitythatdoesntsleep @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @onlybadendings @rabass @wolfeyedwitch @melancholy-in-the-morning

[og2lit]

LA Task - S.C.

•What is your full name? Santana Isaiah Cross

• Where and when were you born? Chicago, Illinois. 4/10/02

• Who are/were your parents? (Know their names, occupations, personalities, etc.)

Skylar Cross; Gym owner and physical therapist. She's loving, nurturing, passionate, loves hard. A go getter and great business mindset. Financial advisor to her son to protect his assets before he turns pro. Makes 🔥 cakes from scratch.

Cairo Jennings; Recently retired pro sports athlete currently works as a reoccurring analyst with ESPN. Stoic, old school mentality, provider, gym rat. Stubborn and headstrong, manipulative, controlling.

• Do you have any siblings? What are/were they like?

Only child, that he knows

• Where do you live now, and with whom? Describe the place and the person/people.

UCLA campus apartments, by himself. Open space, hypebeast, got some color, tv mounted, surround sound.

• What is your occupation?

Student full time, brand ambassador

• Write a full physical description of yourself. You might want to consider factors such as: height, weight, race, hair and eye color, style of dress, and any tattoos, scars, or distinguishing marks.

6'2, semi muscular, brown skin, tattoos all over his torso and legs, african american, street casual, locs at his shoulder.

• To which social class do you belong?

Middle upper class for now

• Do you have any allergies, diseases, or other physical weaknesses?

Nope

• Are you right- or left-handed?

Right

• What does your voice sound like?

Raspy, Midwest accent, husky

• What words and/or phrases do you use very frequently?

"Mane, Folk, Gang"

• What do you have in your pockets?

Tictac, phone, wallet

• Do you have any quirks, strange mannerisms, annoying habits, or other defining characteristics?

No

PART 2: GROWING UP

•How would you describe your childhood in general?

He had a solid childhood. With the child support hush money his mom received every month from her former lover it was enough to cover the mortgage so the rest of Skylar's money went to the small bills and splurging on her son.

• What is your earliest memory?

5 years old, running in the backyard with a little car. His father Cairo comes out to the backyard with Skylar and hands Santana a mini basketball before leaving. It was the only time he saw his father face to face.

• How much schooling have you had?

He's in college.

• Did you enjoy school?

Enjoys what it offers and how he can capitalize.

• Where did you learn most of your skills and other abilities?

Copying his favorite players moves until he perfected it and created his own. Kobe Bryant and Jamal Crawford.

• While growing up, did you have any role models? If so, describe them.

His mother, she taught him everything.

• While growing up, how did you get along with the other members of your family?

Had cousins that he got from his mother's friends and two blood cousins that he stays in contact with to this day. They used to get in trouble all the time running the streets.

• As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up?

A firefighter

• As a child, what were your favorite activities?

Playing monster trucks and doctor

• As a child, what kinds of personality traits did you display?

Lots of energy, couldn't stay still, OCD

• As a child, were you popular? Who were your friends, and what were they like?

Since he played ball in middle school he was known by a lot of people in the state area.

• When and with whom was your first kiss?

13, Courtney Wright in the closet.

• Are you a virgin? If not, when and with whom did you lose your virginity?

No, 17 Tamia Blake

PART 3: PAST INFLUENCES

•What do you consider the most important event of your life so far?

Overhearing a phone call of his parents fighting over him.

• Who has had the most influence on you?

His mother and Kobe Bryant

• What do you consider your greatest achievement?

Getting his first NIL deal before he graduated high school.

• What is your greatest regret?

Not retiring his mouth when he had the opportunity to do so.

• What is the most evil thing you have ever done?

Cheated on someone

• Do you have a criminal record of any kind?

No

• When was the time you were the most frightened?

Almost got his car stolen in Chicago when he turned 18

• What is the most embarrassing thing ever to happen to you?

Getting my beans caught in my zipper at school

• If you could change one thing from your past, what would it be, and why?

Cairo Jennings

• What is your best memory?

Back to back state championships in high school

• What is your worst memory?

Finding out his mother has breast cancer

[notyour-valentine]

Hello Val! I’d love to send you a request for your 1000 celebration (congrats again! 🥂)

I’d like to go with a blurb for modern!Tommy and the following prompt: “It is a common phenomenon that just the prettiest girls find it so difficult to get a man.”

Thanks ❤️

The Prettiest Girls ~ modern!Tommy Shelby x Reader (Fluff)

[Celebration] [Celebration Masterlist] [Masterlist]

Warning: Mention of sexism in society, patriarchy, some swearing (18/21+). I do not consent to my work being translated, copied or posted elsewhere on this platform or any other.

Words: 1480 words

“Oi!”, she snapped as Tommy reached for the packet of still warm falafels and pulled them towards him without even sparing her a glance. 

“Those are mine!”, she hissed, snatching them right back.  For that, she had to get up and lean all over the polished black chrome table.

His head shot up and he glared at her with nothing but annoyance and impatience - as if she had insulted him.

“Seriously?”, he hissed, “You drink and eat here for free, the least you can do is give some of me own fucking food!”

“It’s not your food!”, Ada reminded him. “Its from that new vegan place around the corner.”

“We’ve got vegan food!”, Arthur argued, always quick to defend his establishment. “Chips and sweet potato chips and salad, I think?”

“If I eat nothing but chips all the time, I will break out worse than a freshers flu!”, she argued, dipping another one of her deliciously crispy fried falafels into the hummus. 

This was becoming a weekly thing, actually it was becoming almost normalcy. Ever since the Shelbys had moved into London too, it was more than convenient for her and Ada to spend their evenings here. Groceries was expensive and here they could practically drink them dry and even if they ordered food more to their taste, they could put it on Arthur’s tab. 

He didn’t mind in the slightest, not when it came to his sister and their childhood friend. 

Usually it was actually quite fun, with John in town too and Tommy actually having time to join them for a change, or so they had thought. 

But instead of a few rounds and some fun stories for old times sake, he was sitting in the corner of the private room, hacking away at his phone with such ferocity, she could have sworn he must’ve drilled holes into it by now. 

Always busy. Always occupied. 

As if that wasn’t enough, he cleared his throat and swiped. 

“Yes?”, he demanded to know, bringing his phone to his ear. “Is he for real now?”, Ada demanded to know as Tommy began to have a full on conversation with no regard to them and their talk. 

“Oi, at least put it on speaker!”, she offered with a chuckle. 

He threw daggers at her and got up, but on his way out, he swiped the bag with the remaining four falafels from the table. 

“Hey!”, she argued, but the door only fell shut, separating her from the rest of her dinner.

“Arrogant git.”, she hissed. 

“Don’t be harsh on him, love!”, Arthur insisted. “He’s busy with the business.”

She only shrugged. 

It was bothering her more than it should. She had left Birmingham to go to college, and had moved in with Ada so that they could share the costs. Then, before long, Tommy had bought them not only a house but a car, not that they needed it in central London, but it was nice to have.

She had thought him buying a house would mean he was around a bit more, but no. 

Only once had she passed him in the hall when he had been on his way out, and he had greeted her with a small smile and a meaningless “All good?”, but he was already on the run.

She missed Birmingham, she missed them all, but with Tommy it felt like the only place she yet held in his life was on a list of expenses - and that stung. 

But what was there to be done?

Tommy was his own man and she was her own woman. Besides, she was his little sister’s friend, hardly anyone of much importance in the busy life of Mr. Thomas Shelby. 

She still had Ada, and Arthur and John, so she needn’t mourn too much. 

Ada of course, had decided to enrol in the same university as she had, taking on Sociology, Politics and Gender Studies all in one go.

She was well suited for it and burned to share her knowledge with her, and now her brothers too. 

While (Y/N) could only contribute anecdotal evidence, they were certainly in agreement of many things. Especially in regards to the differences between men and women in society. 

And before long they were on a roll, with John blushing and Arthur paling with every word. The door behind her clicked open again, as Tommy returned - without her falafels. 

Jackass. 

But that didn’t stop her from making her point.

“Women constantly get underestimated and reduced to their looks.”, she insisted, throwing her hands in the air. “It is just so exhausting!”

Ada nodded ceremoniously, impatient to get her own point in. 

 “Did you know Marilyn Monroe was actually really smart?”, she asked.

“If she was so smart why did she stand over that subway vent and have them take pictures up her skirt?”, John asked. 

“That was for a movie!”, Ada hissed, glaring at her brother. 

“Speaking of movie stars - everytime you turn on music in your car, that’s due to Hedy Lamar - the one with the stars.”, she insisted, waving around the back of her head. “She invented Bluetooth, or rather the technology behind it.”

“So far more than looks- but history remembers them as pretty!”

Ada said the word as if it was a slur, or at least a taint. 

“Anyway, back to the original problem. Women get reduced due to their looks so much that it impacts every aspects of their lives!”

“But isn’t that also a good thing?”, John asked. “I mean, there is pretty privilege, right?”

That made her stomach coil. 

“Wanting to sleep with someone isn’t the same as listening or valuing them!”, she snarled, considering if she should try to aim for his shin under the table. 

“Besides,”, Ada added, “most men are intimidated by both attractive and intellectual women. Combine the two and 99% of men run to the hills.”

She leaned back and sighed in dramatic fashion, giving her a lamenting look. “It is a common phenomenon that just the prettiest girls find it so difficult to get a man, one who is not intimidated or even fells insulted.”

“My words exactly!”, she added with a nod. 

Across the table, Tommy scoffed. 

“You got something to say?”, Ada hissed, as always ready for a fight, especially with her favourite sparring partner. 

She loved to argue, but arguing with Tommy was the rarest and most favoured pastimes for her. 

And he didn’t care to back down from a fight and so met his sister’s gaze with that barely-there knowing smirk of his, as if the universe had laid bare all the secrets it contained in front of him and him alone. 

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?”, Ada asked, “Go on then.”

He shrugged in dismissal once more.

“I think you’re making things too complicated.”

“We? We are making things too complicated?”

Ada’s cheeks began to flush and she could practically see the speech beginning to form. 

“Yes. I’m not exactly saying that society’s perfect but it’s not the cause of everyone’s problems.”

“It kind of is, though!”, Arthur argued.

Tommy shot him a dark glare, all playfulness he had in his eyes when he had faced Ada gone at the sight of his brother’s betrayal. 

“If (Y/N) can’t find a man, it’s hardly the patriarchy’s fault. Perhaps she’s just looking in the wrong places.”

She choked on her drink, feeling the liquid climb up to her nose as she coughed, barely managing to cover her mouth with a napkin as Arthur hit her back. 

“Wait what?”, Ada asked, staring at her brother in utter disbelief.

“When did this discussion become about me?”, (Y/N) managed to croak out, her eyes burning. 

“Yeah, what are you on about, Tommy?”, John demanded to know, before his face split into a wide grin. “Hang on-”

“Shut up!”, Tommy hissed, as his ears began to turn red. “I must’ve misheard, alright. Nothing to get stuck up on.”

He fidgeted with his cufflinks. 

John threw his head back in laughter and even Ada giggled.

“Did he just call me pretty?”, (Y/N) asked, bracing her elbows on the table as she leaned forward, having recovered from her drink mishap. 

“Pretty and intellectual!”, Arthur added for formalities sake, earning more throaty chuckles and giggles, as Tommy’s ears turned the shade of ripe tomatoes. One could even see the colour sneak up his neck. 

“What do you want me to say?”, Tommy hissed, “You’re not ugly, are you?”

His anger only made her giggle more as she leaned back. “I should put that on a t-shirt.”, she suggested with a smirk. 

“We could start a clothing line, make it Shelby Company Limited official and Tommy can write off a bit of tax, that would be nice, wouldn’t it, Tom?”, Ada teased, giving her brother a playful shove. He was hacking away at his phone again, pretending he didn’t hear, while his ears seemed to glow so brightly they couldn’t have lit the entire room on their own.

End.

Thank you so much @flyingjosephine-blog for requesting and participating in my celebration and for requesting modern!Tommy - I had such fun with this and I hope you like it!

Thank you everyone for reading and as always, I hope you enjoyed and would love to hear your thoughts!

If you want to participate in my celebration, click here!

Taglist

Overall

@lilyrachelcassidy @jyessaminereads @chlorrox @watercolorskyy @books-livre @quarterpastmidnight  @lilyevanswhore  @polishcrazyone  @zablife  @just-a-harmless-patato  @stevie75 @flyingjosephine-blog @runnning-outof-time @babayaga67 @butterfly-skinnylegend @cillmequick

Tommy

@knowledgefulbutterfly  @signorellisantichrist @lespendy @geeksareunique @look-at-the-soul

[dancemachinetrait]

September 19th, 1910- Letter extract, Daisy Gillespie to Clem Gillespie

Mother and Mrs Yates are telling everyone the two of you have gone to take up a secretarial course. I know you’d be amused that they’ve finally found common cause. It’s certainly the first time I’ve ever seen them co-operate.

Things are strange here. I think Mama suspects I know where you are, but she won’t ask me- at least, not directly. That’s a relief as I’d find it hard to tell her a direct untruth. 

The most important news is that Jem was accepted into Brindleton College on a full scholarship! Mama has told everyone in the village a dozen times over and took him into Greater Windenburg to have his uniform fitted, even though he doesn’t start for almost a year. Papa has been telling him he mustn’t grow another inch, and Jem has resolved to give up his bedtime glass of milk ‘in order that I shan’t grow any more’ (although I think this is only an excuse as you know he hates milk).

Mama made Jem walk up and down the parlour in his uniform to show us all. Biddy fell about laughing and got sent upstairs and Papa hummed Burlington Bertie, which made me think of you. I couldn’t help but think of what you would have said. It does seem silly to make a ten-year-old boy wear a top hat, but then I suppose I don’t know anything about being a gentleman.

I’m glad there is a little while until Jem leaves. It will be strange when it’s just me and Biddy. I know she’ll miss Jem, too- the two of them are thick as thieves. Of course she will be starting at the village school next year as well. That will be a relief really. She was always headstrong, but since you left lately she’s become a bit of a terror. She got a tin of molasses out of the larder and by the time Mother found her half of it was in her hair and wouldn’t come out! You’ve never heard such ructions. In the end Mother had to cut her hair quite short and she cried bitterly at first, but I showed her some fashion plates of little girls with shingled hair from one of my magazines and told her none of the village girls had anything a bit like it, and that perked her up in no time. It really does look pretty on her, but then she always was the prettiest of us. I suppose you won’t mind me saying that, now that you…well, you know. 

Perhaps showing her the magazines worked a little too well. This afternoon I caught her walking up and down the pasture wall with a book on her head, and when I asked her what she was doing she said she was practising to be a mannequin for the House of Worth.

The village is much the same as ever. Paul Farber and Sybil Copeland were married last Sunday. Myrtle was head bridesmaid and looked like thunder. I suspect she’s chafing that Sybil is married before her, and her not even engaged. I think she and Justice Bowlinger have had a lover’s quarrel; she hasn’t been boasting about him nearly as much lately.

Eli has been teaching me songs in Yiddish (his mother’s language) and Ladino (his father’s). I’d never heard either before. I’m sure I make an awful mess of them, but he’d never say so. He’s begun calling me Margeritke, which means daisy, after one of the songs. Daisy is such a prosaic name, the sort of name you give to cows, but Margeritke seems quite different.

He laughed a good deal when I showed him your picture, but he swore he wasn’t making fun. He said you looked more natural in men’s clothes than you ever did in skirts.

I must go to bed now; I have to be up early to milk Betsy. Oh! and I enclose a portrait of Jem in his uniform. Mama had so many copies made, I don’t think she’ll miss one.

Your loving sister,

Daisy

previous | next | beginning

[satansapostle6]

fire and ice | james cook

Cook’s interest is piqued when an old childhood friend moves in across the street.

Warning: Mature themes/language. Drug use. Sexual content.

part one. those girls.

Cook was in need of something to get his day going when he left the house that morning. He had just woken up and was completely sober, no alcohol, and no spliff. Yet. He was about to be on his way to school, before he saw her.

New neighbors had moved in across the street a few days before, but James Cook hadn’t really seen any of them, until this very moment. The new neighbors, it seemed, had a daughter. Most likely his age. Cook was stunned for a moment, forgetting where he was as he stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, just looking at her.

There was something so strongly familiar about this girl, as if he’d seen her before, as if he knew her. But he thought it couldn’t have been; she’d only just moved in. Cook studied her features eagerly as he took in her appearance.

Her white T-shirt sporting the logo of a popular beer, he was delighted to find, had no undergarments beneath it. Her jeans, he thought as he slowly scanned her tall form, were fitted, at least in the right place. She had long dark hair, with bangs that hid eyes that, even from a far, were quite alluring.

Already having made his decision, he ran straight across the street as he saw her walking in the same direction he was meant to head in. He had to shag this girl, he knew.

As he ran up behind the girl, he was frustrated by the fact that she wasn’t particularly alerted in any way by his presence. He’d assumed that since he’d ran up to her, she’d at least look to see who was just behind her, but she didn’t really seem to notice any as she kept walking.

“Got some sort of death wish, do you?” Cook asked her as she finally turned her head.

“No more than anybody else,” she responded.

He smiled, appreciating her devil-may-care sort of nonchalance.

“What’s your name, death wish?” he asked her.

“Why don’t you tell me yours?” she challenged softly.

Cook grinned, enjoying whatever game she was playing. “I asked you first,” he pointed out with a foolish expression on his face.

“I already answered your first question,” she pointed out patiently.

“Alright. Fair enough,” he conceded. “I’m Cook.”

He saw as the girl paused for a moment, thinking before she finally spoke.

“You wouldn’t happen to be… James Cook, would you?” she said finally.

“Why, have we shagged before?” he asked eagerly. “If so, that’s nothing to me, I’ll do it again.”

“Absolutely not,” the girl scoffed, crossing her arms. “We were ‘best mates’. In primary school. Remember?” she teased.

Cook froze, petrified as he traced his memory as far back as he could, trying to place this girl’s face.

“Wait, wait…” he trailed off in awe, slowly able to place her brown hair and green eyes, “Wheeler?! Bollocks, Tiffany Wheeler?!”

”That’s me,” she nodded, watching with satisfaction as he lost his mind over the fact.

“Fucking hell! No way that’s really you!” he cackled in disbelief. “I remember you used to let me copy off you in second year!”

“You said it made us best mates,” Tiffany nodded, watching him as he reminisced.

“I did. We were best mates,” Cook insisted. “You were the only one who didn’t laugh at me cuz I didn’t know my letters.”

“You still seem like you don’t,” she pointed out.

He just laughed, jumping up in excitement as he lazily threw an arm around her.

“We’re still best mates!” he jeered, playfully tousling her hair as she laughed.

Cook was just as she remembered from when they were small, loud, rambunctious, and excitable. He looked how she would’ve imagined even before, disheveled and reckless with his short, messy hair and collar half sticking up.

“Okay, Wheeler,” he beamed, still following her more so than walking alongside her. “We go to the same college?” he wondered.

“Probably,” she deduced.

“So… Since we’re, you know, best mates, and classmates, and neighbors, and such,” Cook trailed off, somehow sounding as if he were speaking with a mouthful, “Come to my place later? Like… you know. Come?” he grinned.

“Fuck no, Cookie,” Tiffany said firmly, much to his disappointment. “I’ve already heard enough about you.”

“Really?” he demanded. “From who?!”

“Friends.”

“You’ve got friends already?” he realized.

“Yeah,” she nodded, intentionally giving him nothing.

“Like who?” he questioned skeptically.

“Effy. And Katie. And Karen,” she said pointedly.

“You’re friends with them?” Cook asked skeptically.

“I mean… I don’t really have friends,” she said with disdain, not a particularly social person. “But if I did, they’d be Effy and Karen. And Katie, I guess. I met Effy and Katie at a pub. Then we saw Freddie, and he spotted Karen. She told me she liked my top.”

”Fucking hell,” he remarked. “You’re one of those girls, eh?”

“‘Those’ girls meaning?” she interjected.

“You know,” he responded playfully. “The kind you mostly just have to wank to… They show you enough, but they’re usually too good to give it up to you.”

“…If that’s how you want to see it,” she said indifferently.

“You know, Wheeler,” Cook thought as he lingered behind her, “You certainly grew up nice…” he smirked, only for her to nearly shove him into the street.

*****

Cook was seated in English beside Freddie and JJ, his closest friend since childhood. There was an empty seat next to Cook, and he knew exactly what he wanted with it once he saw Tiffany Wheeler come through the door. All eyes were on her when she walked in; most of the people in the room had never seen her before, and she was certainly worth looking at.

Cook watched as even some of the people he knew were taken with her. JJ was the first to spot her, giggling awkwardly and avoiding eye contact as he realized a pretty girl had entered the room. Freddie noticed her too, but went back to pining over Effy once he realized that she was pretty, but not Effy.

Naomi spotted her, but just rolled her eyes upon seeing all the boys in the room glancing in the same direction. Emily Fitch looked at her for just a moment, while her identical twin, Katie Fitch, excitedly waved her over, pointing to an empty seat next to her.

“Hey, Tiff!” Katie called.

Effy Stonem’s cold blue eyes were trained on Tiffany, as if finally recognizing an equal.

Effy watched with great interest as Tiffany saw Katie, and smiled politely, before spotting Cook, who was now grinning and looking to the empty chair next to him. Effy allowed herself a little smirk as Tiffany knowingly walked past and sat down next to Cook, who turned to greet her pleasantly.

“How you doing, Tiff?” he asked her.

“Alright,” she shrugged.

The two of them both faced forward, separate smiles plastered on their faces.

-

part two.

[schrijverr]

Holly's Letter

Years after she last saw her brother and sister, Holly sees the book A Collection of Queer Photography in the stores. It gives her the courage to reach out to them again. This is her letter.

On AO3.

Ships: byler & jargancy, Holly has a husband

Warnings: mentions of past homophobia (vaguely)

~~~~~~~~

Dear Nancy and Mike,

I have started this letter a hundred times already now, because I have so much to tell you and yet I don’t know what to say to you at all. It feels odd to introduce myself, but I almost feel like I have to, since I haven’t seen either of you since I was 9 years old. So, hi, I’m Holly, your little sister. My last name is Richardson now and I am married with two kids.

I am writing you both after reading your book. I try to keep an eye out for such things ever since my eldest, Lisa, came out to me, and I hope you can imagine the shock of seeing your faces after so many years. There, right on the cover, were the two of you, just like I remember from my childhood. Thinking back, I must have stood in that book shop for 30 minutes just staring, before a sales associate asked me if I needed any help. Of course I bought the book.

When I came home, I read it completely and I cried. Truly, I did. It is a weird feeling and I hope I can explain it right. It is weird, because you two left and never turned back and I hated you for a long time over it and now I had answers. Suddenly I knew why you left. And it makes so much sense that you would go and while I am angry and sad at how you left, I am so so glad that you two are happy now. That you found a better family.

Mom and dad divorced in in 1991. They tried to keep it together for my sake, but my mom blamed him for you two leaving and dad- well, dad was just dad. It didn’t work out. I lived with mom and barely talk to dad anymore. It seemed like life fell apart when you two left.

Before now, I never put work into finding either of you. The lack of the internet made it harder, but it was more that I thought you wouldn’t want me there. Like mom, I blamed myself for you leaving, I didn’t understand. Now I do.

I showed mom the book too, she never gave it back, so I bought another copy for myself. I think she has spend days already flipping through the pages and lingering on your faces. I can’t say I blame her, me and my eldest have gone through it together and I told her about her aunt and uncle. All the little things I can still remember from when you still came home. We laughed and we cried and she hugged me. It was a thankful hug and I don’t think I can ever forget it again.

It is probably odd how much I feel like I still relate to you after 28 years, but I do. One of my earliest memories is sitting on the couch with Steve when he was still together with Nancy. I remember the games Mike and the others played in the basement. I remember the fight when you wanted to spend Christmas with the Byers. Little flashes of you, before you were just ghosts haunting family albums and strained conversations with mom or dad.

But it is more than that for me. I never realized how much I am still intertwined with you, even throughout these years without contact. Like, I never realized that the Will Byers, who made my favorite paintings, is the same Will Byers that my older brother was friends with. And I never realized that the article that got mom better pay in 1993 was written by you, Nancy. As a college student I ate at Argyle’s diner with friends after getting drunk. I still braid my hair like Steve taught me. I voted for Erica without making the connection. I also work in education. My husband loves Corroded Coffin. All these little things have bound me to the family you made and that makes me feel connected to you in ways I haven’t in years.

In your book you said you hoped I was okay and that I grew up kind. I hope I am too. I know I grew up okay, I am happy where I am. And I try to be kind, I try to do better. I don’t know if that is enough, but I’m trying. I would love to meet you and your partners. I’d love to catch up with you and hear about everything, even the small things that didn’t make it into the book. And I’d love to tell you about myself and my family too.

Of course, I can understand if you would not want to see me, or if you would, but you’d like not to talk to mom again. I can stand here and tell you how she has changed, how she accepts her granddaughter and treasures the two of you more than her old bigotry, but I don’t think that is my decision to make. So, I’ll leave that to you.

I do hope that you want to see me, that we can catch up and I can get to know your partners more personally, as well as relearn who you two are now. And I hope I can tell you about my husband, Marvin, who is a lawyer, and our two beautiful kids. I’ve already mentioned Lisa, my eldest. She is fifteen now and so smart. She is part of the debate team at her high school and helps run the GSA. Her favorite subject is Math and I’m glad, because I never know how to help Ellie, my youngest, with her Math homework, so her older sister helps her. Ellie is eleven now, already getting way too big for my comfort haha. She’s a little ball of sunshine, always full of energy and smiles. She loves drawing and is so creative. The two are adorable together.

We live in a suburb in a small town near Indiana. I myself work as a preschool teacher nearby, but I only work part time and spend most time looking after the kids while Marvin is at work. We’ve been married for sixteen years now and still going strong. It was so nice to see you also still together with your partners and happy.

I must admit how odd it was to see you grown up. In my mind you two are still the people from ‘89, a young woman and a kid, who just reached into adulthood. Now both of you are fully fledged professionals with families and a career. Just like me.

I know you haven’t been frozen in time, but it felts like it for so long. It is weird to think that you have lived whole lives, had so many experiences, grown so much, and I wasn’t there to see it. Logically, I know the same must be true for you in regards to me, but I can’t help but let it boggle my mind. But I’m glad I got my mind boggled by you looking so happy.

I honestly don’t know if anything in this letter is making sense. No matter how much time has passed since I first picked up your book, my thoughts can’t seem to order themselves. At least not coherently on a piece of paper. However, I do want to reach out and I hope that I’ll get a reply and it will make it easier to place it all.

I also hope that this letter doesn’t come off as accusatory. I admit that I have been bitter in the past, but I have put that behind me. And I completely understand why you did what you did. I think this book has given me the closure I needed to pack away that last inkling that came from not knowing why. Even if this letter gets lost or I never hear back from you, I want to thank you for that.

Rationally, I know I have a thousand more things to tell you, but I’ve also completely blanked on what to say further. So, I’m just going to wrap it up and send it, before I can think about too much and scrap the whole thing again, like I’ve already done so many times.

Much love and kisses,

Holly Richardson

[nimdreams]

This is my long history with dogs and as a dog. I have always called myself strongly dog-hearted even when I didn't call myself a dog therian. After switching between hearted and therian, I have decided to call my dog identity a vaguetype. My identity as a dog is hearted with a sprinkle of therianthropy. This post was originally 1,743 words and took on average 13.4 minutes to read, but has been edited slightly for my tumblr.

Written March 26, 2023 and edited on October 4, 2023.

My connection to dogs started at a very early age. My first word was the name of my babysitter's dog. My parents believe I never bonded with my babysitter, but I was completely focused on her little Maltese. As a young child growing up, I asked all my neighbors to walk their dogs and I asked for a dog or any pet every birthday. I started reading the dog books in the library.

When I was 7 we got our first family dog, a Flat-Coated Retriever. He was my little brother and a good friend. I remember learning so much from him, copying his behavior and acting more and more like a dog myself. I remember when he was a little older, we went to a Flat-Coated day and I was standing with my dog plushie surrounded by Flat-Coats and I just wished I was a dog amongst them. I wanted them to recognize me as one of them, play with them as a dog. This is the first memory I have of wanting to be a dog physically.

When I was around 9 years old is when I came across the Elfquest comics. This is when I awakened as an elf, an identity I no longer hold and is now an anteatype. The only reason why I identified as an elf is because these elves were half wolves, they had wolfblood and wolves recognized them as one of their own, the way I wanted to be recognized by dogs. I had a big collection of plushies, but the ones most dear to me and that I mostly played with were dog plushies. I could act like I was a dog too with them, or could pretend the plushies were my puppies. Even though I acted like a dog, wanted to be recognized as a dog, and considered dogs my kin, I didn't consciously identify as/with one.

As time went on, I kept asking for my own dog. I had finished all the library books on dogs. When I was 14 I finally got my wish and we rehomed another Flat-Coated Retriever. She was supposed to be mine, but she never got over her first family abandoning her. Though she was like a sister, she always kept herself apart from our family. I remember trying to act like a dog and get her to like me. Show her I was of her kind and that she could befriend me. It hurt me a lot to be rejected by her. This is also around the age where I was supposed to be getting older and play acting like a dog wasn't okay anymore so I stopped acting as a dog, even though I only ever did privately.

Then I was 18, going to turn 19 and moving away from home to go to college. I just couldn't do it without a dog as companion and since I didn't want to disrupt the life of my Flat-Coat, I decided to get a puppy of a small breed. This is when my first dogson, a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel, came into my life. He was my everything. I was fully responsible for him by myself and raised him and mothered him. I fully felt like a dogmom, like I was a dog too and he was my own. He and I had the most special and deep bond. He was only with me for 8 years. For his breed is known as the most sick breed, if they survive as a puppy they usually die at a young age of heart failure. This breed is seriously the most kind and soft hearted breed you will ever find. They don't deserve the suffering they go through. My Cavalier was my world, my life, my everything. During the hardest times of my life he was there to encourage me to keep going. His love taught me what true love is.

I don't know why I kept switching between therian and hearted. Calling myself a dog therian felt good and like I was more myself. I knew that if I left the community, my dogness would remain and my connection to dogs would remain. My history with dogs, what they have always meant to me and how I feel partly like one of them. That is a true part of myself. I guess part of me didn't really feel bothered with the label, /because/ of what dogs mean to me in my life. A label doesn't matter or change that. I now feel happy labeling it a vaguetype. I finally feel like I won't keep switching around anymore.

Skip forward to me joining the community in April, 2018. My first dogson had already passed away. I was questioning my theriotype and possible kintype, but as soon as I learned about hearted, I called myself dog-hearted. It was super clear to me that I had such a bond with dogs. Sometimes I'd question if it was my theriotype, but I always dismissed it as I "didn't see myself as a dog". Even though I had the experiences of a dog therian, like wanting to interact with dogs as a dog or wanting my own litter of puppies instead of human offspring.

28 January 2020 I confirmed being a Chinese Crested dog therian. I had been questioning if I was a dog therian and looking at different breeds and the Crestie just "clicked" for me. After a while I went back to dog-hearted and would go back and forth between that and Crestie therian. Until 7 October 2021, when I had my first strong and clear envisage shift of what I looked like as a dog. I could not find a breed matching it however so from this moment on whenever I called myself a dog therian I was flip-flopping between a Chinese Crested and trying to find the breed matching this envisage shift. As time went on and I got more shifts, I felt more and more that the way I looked in that envisage shift is who I truly am and that I was not a Crestie.

Monday 20 March 2023, on this day I was looking at breeds again. Trying to find a match for my envisage shift, my appearance as a dog. At this point I thought I was a mutt or mixed breeds as I just couldn't find dogs that looked like me, but then I found the Silken Windsprite and it fit me perfectly. A red fawn colored Silken Windsprite is what I saw myself as. It was different from the "click" I had with Chinese Crested dogs. I was already in my 30s when I first had a good clear idea of what I look like as a dog, though I did always have that click with dogs with blond fur. After identifying as a Windsprite I went back to dog-hearted and eventually settled with Golden Retriever, because of those same plushies I loved since I was a child. My main puppy plushie was a golden and I have heavily imprinted on golden puppies as being what I would have as my own. You can read more about this in my post on breeds. I am of the belief that it's completely okay to figure yourself out along the way. Crestie is what I understood at first, but with time I learned more.

Sorry this was such a long one, I didn't plan anything for this post; I just wrote what came to mind as I went along. If you read this whole thing, thank you so much and I hope it was of interest or help to you!

Six years ago, my husband (then boyfriend) and I, after losing my first dogson, were looking to be a new home for an adult dog. This is when my second dogson came into my life. He is a Bolonka Zwetna, a small breed. Though he is my son, I miss having had him as a puppy when I could've really been a dogmom and have a space for my motherhood feelings. I love him deeply and dearly, though our connection is not like my first dogson. It doesn't have to be, he is his own little person and we have our own bond.

My health isn't as bad as it was a few years ago. My husband had to take care of me for a long time, and having a dog was in reality a little bit too much for us. I am doing a lot better now and am able to walk our dogson. Our love for our him leads us to push ourselves to give him the best care and life.

[brunchable]

Mini Story Moodboard + Preview

"Look at you all grown up. It's so lovely to have you here darling. How's your mother?"

The 13-year-old girl shrugged, her cheeks cupped in between her grandmother's palms, "Annoying but she's doing well."

Her grandmother smiled as she admired the carbon copy of her daughter when she was a child, "The similarity between you is so uncanny."

The young girl scowled at the older woman's comment, making her grandma laugh, "So where will I be sleeping?"

"Your Mother's old room. I've cleaned it but I left everything back to where it is—she doesn't like it when people touch her things."

"Huh." Sasha chuckled. How ironic. She thought.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

"Make yourself feel at home. I'll call you down when dinner’s ready." Her grandmother smiled and shuts the door. Sasha plops her bags on the floor and allowed herself to fall backwards on her mother's old bed.

This is going to be one boring summer. She sighed and rolled to her side, now facing a white wooden study desk with books neatly stacked on the side. Her eyes pan towards the shelving above, the stem of the A5 books had 365 written on it—all pastel colored. Journals.

She got up abruply and swiped what she assumed was the first volume of her mother's diaries. The front had a warning—which was written in her mother's hand writing—it said: Private! DO NOT READ!

"Pft. What are you going to do Mom? Ground me?" She chuckled and proceeded to open the journal.

June 13 1999

I finally persuaded Mom and Dad that I will be studying art in college however, they won't be paying for it since they don't consider it as a real career—It’s ironic since they love going to art museums? It just doesn't make sense! But whatever, I got a job at the local florist anyway. Either I'll save money or I would have to work hard on creating art and get a scholarship.

It's also been a week since the new neighbors moved in, a family of five, they call themselves Strange—no literally, that's their names. Eugene and Beverly, the parents and then there's Stephen, Donna and Victor. Donna's very lovely and the same age as me, we instantly clicked when we met, we share the same interest and aspirations—maybe we could even go to college together.

Her older brother Stephen though, he's kind of intimidating, the third time Donna invited me for dinner. . . he kept staring at me—or maybe I'm just imagining it. According to Dad, he looks like trouble and though Dad thinks his parents are nice people, he's already given me a warning to steer clear from him. . . but we don't even talk. . .so. . . Yeah. . . But I won't judge a book by its cover. . . Okay, maybe I think he's a little, very attractive—but there's nothing wrong with admiring right?

[kikis-writing-world]

Books and Their Covers

Summary: Eddie Munson has been one thing for the months that you’ve known him, and that thing is unpredictable. Just when you think you understand him, he looks at you like that...

Pairing: Eddie Munson x F!Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Rating/Warnigs: Not edited/betaed, light sexual tension, partial nudity. Controlling parents. Unreliable narrator doesn’t see that Eddie likes her.

A/N: Eddie Munson has taken over my brain. Whether I’ve wanted to or not, my brain has been plotting all the ways to love up on him. I convinced myself to write this “drabble” (that got a little out of hand) as a way to test out writing him. If you like it, let me know! I’m always nervous dipping into a new character.

You waved at your dad as the family station wagon pulled off of school property. It took everything in you to turn and walk calmly into the school instead of running in. You appreciated that your father drove you to school in the mornings, especially since you didn’t have your own car -  yet, you reminded yourself - but over the last few months, you’ve really started to feel stifled by your parents.

They were good people and great parents. They only wanted the best for you, but they had a very specific view of what the best looked like. Music lessons, Spanish tutor, volunteering in the community. For years they ran your schedule, setting you up with an excellent transcript for college applications. You were thankful for their help, but they hadn’t left you any room to find yourself. You were supposed to graduate this year and you had no idea what you wanted to do. Your father wanted you to take secretarial classes at the local community college. After a few years working in an office, you’d meet some nice businessman to marry and have babies with, just as your parents had. Your mother wanted you to go to teacher’s college and become an English teacher. She always cited that you had loved reading as a child, making it a perfect career. Her pushing, however, had taken the love out of it. Instead of reading for fun, you were assigned a monthly essay. On top of all your other school work, you couldn’t bear to pick up a book for leisure. Your old, worn copy of The Hobbit stayed in your backpack for emergencies, but you couldn’t remember the last time you actually cracked it open. At least, that was how it was until two months ago. Two months ago, during third period, when you met Eddie Munson.

You knew of Eddie, of course. Hawkins wasn’t a big town and anyone out of the ordinary stood out. It wasn’t hard to have noticed Eddie in the hallways or the school cafeteria, his gang of other oddballs in tow as he led them like the pied piper. Everyone knew he sold drugs and yet he never seemed to get caught for it. He listened to heavy metal and wore satanic imagery in his clothes and jewelry. He was everything your parents had warned you away from, and yet he was nothing like it at all.

The front desk of the main office was empty, the secretary having left a “be back soon” sign propped up instead. You glanced around for her but she wasn’t anywhere in the immediate vicinity. Your teacher had asked you to bring down the attendance, but you didn’t know what to do if the secretary was missing. You considered leaving it on her desk, but at the last minute decided to wait.

You turned to the row of chairs that lined the wall next to the door, nearly jumping when you realized they weren’t empty. Eddie Munson sat in the farthest chair from the entrance, leaning back with his long legs out in front of him. He paid you no mind, picking at a frayed seam of his trademark jean vest. You took one of the chairs, leaving an empty one between the two of you.

As you sat, his gaze shifted to watch you out of the corner of his eye. You smiled nervously under his watch, muttering a cordial “good morning.”

Eddie turned to fully take you in, his eyes giving you a curious once over before he spoke.

“Do you wish me a good morning,” he asked dramatically, as if he was in the middle of a Shakespearean soliloquy. “Or mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not, or that you feel good this morning, or-”

Your eyes were wide with surprise as you cut him off, finishing the quote before he had a chance. “Or that it is a morning to be good on?”

Eddie seemed to freeze in his chair, except for his head that whipped in your direction. His hair bounced with the movement, making the large coif look almost alive. It reminded you a bit of that big monster muppet on The Muppet Show.

“You know Tolkien?” He questioned, intrigued.

“You know Tolkien?” You countered with your own amused grin.

The two of you stared at each other for a moment, clearly sizing the other up. Eddie had shattered your expectations of who he was, and you were sure you had just shattered his in return.

“Which is your favorite?” Eddie broke the silence, his brown eyes sparkling with excitement.

“The Hobbit.” You answered easily, thinking of that worn paperback in your locker. “You?”

“Return of the King, obviously.” He groused, rolling his eyes while keeping his friendly grin.

“Acceptable.” You nodded, impressed.

“Acceptable,” he mocked you with a scoff, leaning over the empty chair between you. “Of course it’s acceptable, it’s the right answer.”

“It’s a good book, but The Hobbit-”

“Is an excellent second choice.”

“Bite your tongue.” You spat playfully.

The companionable silence stretched for a moment, neither of you willing to back down from your opinions. Even so, it wasn’t a heated debate or disagreement. It was lighthearted and good natured. Eddie cocked his head to the side, keeping those big brown eyes on you. You wondered if his eyes had always been so expressive. Had you never gotten close enough to notice? You had to bite your lip to keep from giggling at the back and forth the two of you had fallen so easily into. It was refreshing and so different from your usual friends.

“How-”

You were cut off by the principal’s door opening, making you jump and sit up straight in your chair. You hadn’t even noticed how much you had leaned towards Eddie until you felt like you were caught doing something you shouldn’t. You cleared your throat as you focused back on the folder in your lap as a freshman shuffled out of Ms. Murphy’s office. Their scuffed shoes dragged against the brown and orange carpet as you kept your eyes downcast.

Eddie took his time leaning back in his chair. When he finally did, you could feel his presence leave. The chair beneath him groaned with the movement as his leather jacket squeaked.

Ms. Murphy called your name, capturing your attention. “Did you need something?”

“Uh, no… Um, Mrs. McGregor asked me to bring down the attendance.” You stuttered, lifting the folder from your lap.

“Just go ahead and leave it on the desk, dear.” She instructed kindly before turning to Eddie. “Mr. Munson,” her tone had dropped as she gestured for him to enter her office.

You stood at the same time as Eddie did, pulling himself sluggishly to stand. You whispered a quiet “goodbye” under your breath, ready to scurry back to class.

Eddie kept his attention towards you as he started to stumble backwards towards the principal’s office. He swept his hand out dramatically, keeping one hand to his chest as if he was overacting on stage. “Farewell,” he called far too loudly for the small office. “And may the blessing of Elves and Men and all Free Folk go with you.”

“Mr. Munson.” Ms. Murphy repeated, her voice laden with warning as she stared him down.

You had to bite your lip once more to stop yourself from laughing, not wanting to encourage his tomfoolery, no matter how refreshing it was.

He smiled knowingly, like he could see right through your attempted composure, and bowed theatrically. You shook your head, dropping the folder on the desk and leaving the office.

Two days later there was a note in your locker, scribbled on the back of a messy page of chemistry notes. It was addressed to you, in the same messy handwriting.

“Friday after school. Drama Room. If you like Tolkien, this will blow your mind.”

It was signed with a stylized “HB” but no name. You stared for a moment, knowing without a doubt that the note was from Eddie, but didn’t know why he would sign it in such a way.

As if he anticipated your hesitation, below the signature there was one final line:

“The world is not in your books and maps, it’s out there.”

You grinned at the quote. It was one that had always spoken to you. You let yourself live in the fantasy for a moment, thinking of Eddie as the Gandalf that was going to show you the world outside the Shire-

Gandalf.

Looking back at the signature, you realized they weren't stylized letters. They were runes. Eddie Munson signed the note to you in Elvish Runes. It made you feel giddy, even if you couldn’t fully explain why.

When you tucked the note into your bag, you told yourself it was to take home and see if you could decipher the runes, and if you decided to go to the drama room Friday after school, it was only to return the chemistry notes. Surely, he’d need them.

Two months later and you are a full-fledged member of Hellfire Club, not that your parents had any idea about that. As far as they were concerned, Fridays after school was Debate Club. Your mother was ecstatic when you told her, going on and on about how much schools would appreciate debate club as an extracurricular. It almost made you feel guilty enough to call it all off. Almost.

You walked the familiar path through the school, past the cafeteria and the gym, to the wing with the shop classes. The hallway was almost always deserted at this time of the morning. First period shop students were notorious for being late, let alone early for class. The single-stall washroom at the end of the hallway was the perfect secret spot.

You knocked on the door lightly, rapping out the beat to Holy Diver, a song you’ve heard repeatedly thanks to Eddie.

The door opened as soon as you finished the code. Eddie stuck his face out of the cracked door, not letting you into the room.

“Speak, friend, and enter.” He challenged with a signature grin.

You couldn’t have stopped your own grin if you tried, answering the riddle with the Elvish word for friend. He stepped aside to let you in, closing the door behind you.

You turned around once inside only to have Eddie throwing a t-shirt at you. It hit you in the face, startling you. You caught it with your forearms against your chest, glaring at Eddie as the shirt cleared your vision. He simply chuckled and shrugged, teasing you about working on your reflexes. 

You looked down at the shirt, taking a moment to admire it. The snarling demon across the front of the shirt was unlike anything else in your wardrobe, but that just made it one of the most treasured items you owned. You’d had to make it yourself, as all the other members had. The first day you’d worn it, you finally felt like you’d been properly accepted into the group. Your mother would faint if she ever caught you wearing something so… vulgar. That was why she was never going to see you in it.

You shook your head clear and turned your back to Eddie to change. You were used to changing in front of Eddie now, although you couldn’t say why he stayed. Strangely enough, it didn’t bother you having him in the room. He had never made you uncomfortable before, plus you knew the bra you were wearing was just as covering as any bathing suit.

You trapped the t-shirt between your knees before pulling your blouse over your head. You took a moment to fold it, making sure it would look neat enough when you put it back on at the end of the day. Bending over, you tucked it into your backpack. As you stood, you caught sight of Eddie in the mirror. Eddie, staring at you as you stood. You froze like a deer in the headlights as you watched his eyes leave your ass to trail over your bare back. You felt overheated under his gaze, your stomach flipping not unpleasantly, like being spun upside down on a fair ride. His eyes seemed even darker in the dim lighting of the unused washroom as they continued up your back. You watched his eyes move from your back to your shoulder, and finally rising enough to meet yours in the reflection.

He sucked in a deep, startled breath but didn’t look away. The two of you were stuck, staring at each other as the air in the room seemed to disappear. Your mouth felt dry as you wondered if Eddie had ever looked at you like that before. Was this the first time, or just your first time catching him? Why did you kind of like it?

Eddie’s cheeks were glowing pink now, a color you don’t remember seeing on him before. Somehow, it made his big, puppy eyes all the more captivating.

“I, uh-” Eddie broke the silence, breaking the spell that you had been caught under. You took your shirt in your shaking hands, holding it in front of you. You weren’t quite hiding from Eddie - you liked how you felt under his gaze too much to hide - but you had no idea what to do next either.

Eddie cleared his throat as he tried once more to speak. “I-I’ll just… wait outside for you.”

You nodded meekly, a weak “okay” leaving your lips, but the door was already closing in his wake.

You took a deep breath, trying to collect yourself as you pulled the shirt over your head. You looked in the mirror to check your hair after changing, steadfastly ignoring the flush across your cheeks. Not wanting to dwell on it, you swung your backpack over your shoulder and opened the bathroom door, resolving to not bring it up unless Eddie did.

General Taglist: @generalfoolish @harriedandharassed @vonschweetz​

Eddie Munson Taglist: @fangirling-and-lovin-it​

[sprite-real]

Been thinking about this for a good while, but I was thinking of writing out my own horror + romance kind of thing at some point but I don’t got any programming skills or any of that jazz, so I’ll just have to stick with writing 💔

Basically, I have some characters, Lucas Buford being the main love interest. More about him:

He is a half-vampire, his father left before he was born and his mother raised him all on her own. Due to the time period they lived in she was berated by the people around her and Lucas couldn’t make any friends so it left them both in isolation, but for Lucas at the time, it was okay because all he needed was his mother. Then her unfortunate passing came and Lucas would become a hermit, he was depressed and lonely, and it stuck that way for a century, until current date, he had met a trans man called Eli.

After Eli ended up storming out of his home due to a family issues, he soon came across Lucas who was having a depressive episode, disassociated at the time as he was sitting on a cut-down tree in the middle of the woods. Eli plopped down next to him, greeted him with a simple, “Hey, you down too?” And after days of Eli coming to pester and talk to him, the two eventually bonded and became friends.

Lucas ended up growing very attached and Eli got his new best buddy. Lucas got to learn what was happening with the modern world, educated on just about everything, and soon came to realize he was bi. Soon Eli moved out of his parents house and became roommates with his older brother after they patched things up, and Lucas was dragged into living with them too since Lucas’s old childhood home was deemed unlivable by Eli. And after that Lucas started attending college with Eli, and due to him being pretty fuckin’ smart and being able to pick up things easily, he ended up being Eli’s tutor.

And that’s the story so far, as how he met the MC (or you in this case) would probably be through college. But I’ll work on it more, but I did have a plot in mind initially that I’ll also post (warning it’s older writing and I’m just copying and pasting from a discord chat.):

So, I’ve had this idea now… I kinda really wanna do make my own Yandere man game at some point, getting hella inspired, so here’s something.

You were packing to leave your old dad’s house, (you can choose whether you’re adopted or not) and he comes in and says, “You don’t really have to go, you could always stay with your old man!”

After a heart-felt goodbye you leave to enter a new city, you’ve got roommates. You already got a job, you’re going to college, etc. and well, even after everything seems ‘perfect’, it’s really not. Somebody’s become obsessed, and they’re watching your every move. You are not alone.

Fate is uncertain.

Now more about the dad, so he is your very supportive father that has raised you since you were a wee lad, he has been a good influence. So, cool and laidback, takes you out fishing, endorses your hobbies, when you get too stressed he’ll do what he can to help, a very accepting father, overall just a good father figure, made to be a likable dad. He’s also pretty tech savvy.

Alright thats it for now! Please do not steal my characters, my work or repost on other sites! Thank you.

For now here are some drawings I did, I’ll work more on other characters such as Eli’s older brother. Last two are the father character. If you’ve got any questions I will answer.

[mimixis]

The White Knight: Part 0:03

Nothin' to say

And everything gets in the way

Papa and Daddy bought her a studio apartment in Oxford.

It had a high ceiling and huge windows. They chose the furniture and decorations. Mischa felt at home. The only thing missing were her belongings, which now stood in boxes in the entryway.

Papa took out the purchased kitchen utensils, cutlery, and dishes. He took over the entire kitchen. Daddy arranged textiles in the closet, made her bed, and hung her clothes on hangers in the dressing room. Chiyoh took care of arranging books and ornaments on the shelves. Mischa organized documents in the dresser, her electronic equipment, notebooks, and textbooks needed for college. When she was done, she went to replace her daddy so he could go take care of something else.

She didn't want him to see something a parent should never know about their child.

When they sat down at the table, they ate—to her papa's despair—fish and French fries bought at the nearest restaurant. Mischa and Papa's fingers were grease-stained. They grinned at each other.

Two days later, they left. Chiyoh went to Japan, and her parents went to France, where they had just moved. Mischa escorted them to a cab and hugged one more tightly than the others.

That same evening, she painted the ceiling of the studio apartment to be a faithful copy of the one in her bedroom in Japan. A week later, she began her studies.

♦♦♦♦

Mischa met Daniel in the library.

She was taking notes for class with headphones in her ears. She was swinging her leg under the table to the rhythm of a song when she felt someone patting her on the shoulder. She turned around and raised her eyes. She pulled out her left earpiece and waited for the boy to speak.

He smiled sassily and asked if she was using the book she happened to have open. She raised both eyebrows in a dismissive gesture. He laughed and sat down next to her without asking. He was a tall brunet with a handsome face and a chatterbox. He told her about his studies—he studied veterinary medicine—for half an hour before they introduced themselves to each other.

Mischa didn't finish her studies until she returned home late that evening. She spent hours with Daniel in a coffee shop, discussing their lives. They met once, twice, six times. Eventually, Daniel asked her out. Three months later, she met his friends, and another two months later, she met his parents.

A year had passed since she moved to Oxford. Mischa didn't visit her parents during a single break, using her studies as an excuse, so they finally visited her themselves.

It was summer.

Rare rays of sunshine streamed into the apartment. Mischa was drawing an original character for someone's fanfiction. Lucifer was napping in her lap, and Daniel was reading a book on the couch. It was a quiet afternoon.

Until the doorbell rang.

Mischa exchanged a glance with Daniel. They weren't expecting anyone.

"You go," she said before he could speak. "I have a cat on my lap."

Daniel groaned but rolled off the bed. He opened the door.

"Who are you?" she heard a growl.

She immediately sprang from her chair and rushed to the door. On the way, she almost slipped on the freshly polished floor. She stood before her parents with greasy hair, red cheeks, and an old tracksuit.

"Papa, daddy," she wheezed out. "I didn't know you would be in the neighborhood."

How could she possibly know? They lived in France!

"We wanted to surprise you," Daddy said, still glaring at Daniel. "We got the report you sent us. We are very proud."

Papa smiled, and together with Daddy, they went inside as if they were at home. Theoretically, it was their apartment, considering that they were the ones who paid for it. However, the papers had her name on them.

"Where do you keep the vase?" asked Papa, putting down the groceries on the kitchen counter; in his other hand, he held the flowers.

Mischa felt like laughing. They hadn't seen each other in so long, and the first thing Papa says to her is to ask about the vase. She handed it to him and watched as Papa poured water into it. He placed the arrangement of yellow tulips, roses, and sunflowers on a table covered with a white tablecloth.

"Go help Papa cook, pup," instructed her daddy. "I'll have a talk with your friend."

Daddy led Daniel to the farthest corner of the room from the kitchen. Mischa turned toward Papa and watched as he rolled up his shirt cuffs. He pulled off his jacket and vest earlier; he hung them on a chair. Mischa began to take the ingredients out of the bag. She arranged everything just as Papa had taught her over the years. She cut the vegetables just as Papa had taught her over the years. She scooped out the pomegranate seeds just as Papa had taught her over the years. She did everything on autopilot.

"You didn't mention that you had a boyfriend," he said, rubbing the meat with spices. "You talked about university, classes, and friends, but you never mentioned that you were in a relationship."

"It's quite a fresh issue," she lied. "I preferred to wait for the moment when I was sure of our relationship and that I wasn't wasting your time."

"It would not be wasting our time," he said with a straight face. "We want to know what's going on with you, no matter what it is."

Mischa took a deep breath and begged her brain not to be fooled. This wasn't the first time Papa had said things that would make the girl feel safe with him again, and she squieked it all out.

She loved her papa; she really did. She had simply managed to get to know him very well over the past couple of years.

"You didn't like the last boy who spent time with me," she defended herself.

"We liked Chishiya," he replied while putting the meat in the preheated oven. "We didn't like the fact that he was indecisive. In addition, Chishiya and you were never a couple."

Papa was right. She said nothing more; she seasoned the vegetables, which joined the meat sometime later.

They sat down at the table. Daddy congratulated her again and gave her a gift. Later, he drew Papa into a conversation about how she had managed to rearrange her apartment over the course of a year.

Mischa felt like a child again.

♥♥♥♥

Mischa breathed heavily as Daniel caressed her breasts.

It was Saturday, early in the morning. They didn't have to go anywhere; they weren't in a hurry.

Daniel pulled off the T-shirt she slept in and began kissing her collarbones and her cleavage. He paused longer at her nipples, sucking them slowly. His lips traveled lower and lower until he finally reached her clitoris.

He licked it for a long time. She blushed all over. Her cheeks, her neck, her cleavage. It felt so good for her.

Daniel entered her slowly. He kissed her neck, her jaw, and her lips. She felt herself on his tongue. She tasted salty.

He came a moment later. She didn't. He tied the condom up and threw it in the trash.

Three months later, he hit her for the first time.

♠♠♠♠

It started innocently enough.

He asked if he could borrow her phone, as his was dead. Mischa agreed. Daniel later took her phone without asking. He knew the password, although she never gave it to him. Sometimes he watched as he browsed her Instagram or admired the photos in her photo gallery. Sometimes, out of the corner of her eye, she saw him watching what she was writing back to her friends. More often, she ignored it.

She went out with friends from the study group for a beer after finishing a project. One of them took a photo, put it on Instagram, and tagged her in it. When she returned to the apartment an hour later, Daniel was sitting by the window in the dark. Mischa turned on the light and put her keys on the cabinet by the door. She only had time to say hello and hang up her coat in the closet. A moment later, she was holding her cheek and listening to her boyfriend call her a bitch and a whore. When he saw that she didn't react in any way, he began to apologize and beg for forgiveness.

Mischa wondered if this was the only love she deserved.

After a few weeks, the situation repeated itself. Someone tagged her in a photo; she didn't tell him she was going out somewhere. This time, he punched her in the stomach. Again, he begged for forgiveness and hugged her.

Mischa wondered if Daniel was her punishment for eating pigs.

Her boyfriend always waited for the old bruise to heal before creating a new one. He also learned to hit the places Mischa would be able to cover well. Stomach, shoulders, back, and legs. Mischa stopped going to the pool and started running so that no one would notice the bruised marks of hands and belt.

Mischa had her limits, like any human being.

Therefore, when he left for class, Mischa followed him out with a box of his belongings. Earlier, she had snagged the keys to her apartment and stashed them in her bag. The locksmith would stop by in three hours to change the locks anyway; she had time.

Mischa entered Daniel's apartment and put the box down on the bed in the bedroom. She went into the bathroom and found instructions from the doctor on how to take medication for hypokalemia. Earlier in the week, he had been examined by a doctor and had just picked up the appropriate medication. He hadn't yet had time to remember what to do, when to do it, and how to do it. She took out a pen and notebook from her bag, where the last sheet of paper remained. She stared for a moment at how the doctor wrapped and joined the letters together. She forged the note and replaced it with the original one. She did this with gloves on so that her fingerprints wouldn't be on it. Forewarned is forearmed.

(She threw the original, along with the cardboard part of the notebook and the pen, a day later, into the trash under the university library.)

She returned to her apartment and watched as the locks on her door were replaced. She wrote to her friends that she and Daniel had broken up after a long conversation. They stated that she still had plans for medical school, followed by a residency in the States, and he wanted to start thinking about a life together. They were not compatible. When the locksmith left, she called Daniel, repeating the same speech as to her friends. Without letting him get to the point, she said she had pictures of all the bruises he had done to her—it's a bluff, she doesn't—and would tell her parents about everything if he didn't let her go and tell everyone that they broke up precisely because of the things she said. When there was silence on the other end of the phone, Mischa added that she would stop by tomorrow to pick up her things and hung up.

She left the apartment and went to the arranged meeting place with Chizu and Mito. Chizu had a birthday a couple of weeks ago, and Mischa, as a gift, designed and paid for a tattoo from the birthday girl's favorite artist. She made an appointment for herself with an artist who works with him. To her, she also gave her design.

(Lucifer, of course. Though the rest of her friends expected an orca.)

When Mito talked about her relationship with Takeru, Mischa listened intently, as she always did, as if nothing was happening.

When they arrived at the apartment and turned on the series on Netflix, Daniel was sitting on the corner of the bathtub in his apartment, reading the instructions from the doctor. He measured the dose given and injected it himself.

As the girls gorged themselves on pizza, Daniel's circulation suddenly stopped.

When Daniel's friends approached Mischa and asked if she had seen him today, she said she hadn't and that she was supposed to go see him after class.

As Mischa was throwing away things in the trash outside the library, the pathologist determined the cause of death.

Heart attack.

Mischa never recovered her belongings from Daniel's apartment, but that was nothing. She was able to replace it all with better models.

(Like father, like daughter.)

♣♣♣♣

Mischa was halfway through her first year of medical school when she saw Chishiya again.

It was the International Conference on Infectious Diseases and the girl didn't expect to see him here. Tokyo University, though, cared about its students and provided a variety of activities, apparently.

He was slightly taller than in high school, but still shorter than her. Hair still long, eyes still catlike. She smiled. She wondered if he had also thought of her during their separation. Mischa drew him in the form of a cat a couple of times, then stopped fooling herself and drew his portrait from memory.

He was still a pretty boy.

She excused herself and moved away from the conversation partners. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Papa talking to the experts in the field. He was watching her and knew where she was going and what she intended to do. She fully turned her head toward him and smiled broadly, as if to say And what are you going to do about it?

She stood aside and waited for Chishiya to finish the conversation. One of the people he was standing with pointed at her with a motion of her head, and Chishiya turned around. She waved at him. He waved back. She waited.

When he approached her, Mischa began to lead him to the exit of the auditorium. They sat down on a bench under a tree. It was cold, and they did not take coats.

"You have changed," he remarked. "You move differently, look differently."

"People close to me did terrible things to me," she admitted. "If blood ties and love mean nothing, then what meaning does life have?"

Chishiya hummed under his breath. He stared at a point in front of him and said nothing. Mischa satisfied his curiosity.

"And what does it mean that I move differently? How do I look differently? How did I used to speak compared to how I speak now?"

Chishiya looked at her. Intensively. Mischa wondered if he always did or if she was blind. It seemed to her as if he could see every part of her. Like she was standing naked in front of him, and he was disassembling and reassembling her. Or maybe he had changed, too. Maybe he was no longer just an intelligent boy who wanted to understand the hearts of others. Maybe he was an intelligent man who had acquired the necessary tools to do so.

"You are confident, and it shows in your every step and can be heard in your every word," he replied. He furrowed his eyebrows for a second. "Why? What made you become what you were always meant to be?"

Mischa didn't think this was her final form. She thought that, like Chishiya, she was still on a path of self-discovery. That didn't change the fact that she really wanted to tell him. She very much wanted him to see her whole. She very much wanted to see the look on his face when he found out what she had done.

She did not comment on his words. She only smiled slightly.

"You are still wearing it," he said, pointing to her wrist. She nodded her head.

She had the feeling that she was losing to Chishiya in everything, even in who had the last word.

When she returned to the apartment, she once again regretted that she had gone for psychiatry and not marine biology.

As it was

You know it's not the same as it was

(Harry Styles – As it was)