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moni-logues · 1 year

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Different Spaces

Pairing: Bangchan x reader

Genre: friends to lovers, smut

Summary: Chan has just returned home from tour and you hope you aren't wrong that something has changed between you. Only one way to find out...

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: one (1) handjob, little bit of cum-eating, that's pretty much ya lot!

AN: YES, she's a MULTI BLOG NOW. And obviously it's Chan. It was always going to be Chan lmaooooo. Anyway, this idea crept into my head last night and then I wrote it today to put off writing something else 😅😅😅 I HOPE YOU ENJOY! It's unbeta'd (except for @minttangerines reading it to make sure it didn't suck lol) so forgive the typos please!!!

ETA: you can now find part two HERE!

*~*~*

It wasn’t weird and it wasn’t uncomfortable. But it was different. It was definitely different this time.

Chan sat in front of you, between your legs, his back against your chest and his head in the soft space between your shoulder and collarbone. You leant against the arm of the sofa with your hands on his stomach-

That was different. You had the hem of his T-shirt between your fingers, toying mindlessly, while your other hand rested on his warm, soft skin beneath it. He had one hand resting over yours, his fingers not exactly entwined with yours, but not exactly not.

You’d held hands before. On occasion. Entirely casually, platonically. Except for the part where you wished it wasn’t casual, wished it wasn’t platonic.

You’d had feelings for Chan for as long as you could remember, since you first set eyes on him. Honestly, you were used to it. Comfortable with it even. You knew you weren’t going to do anything about it and that meant it didn’t worry you. It would be your little secret and you would soak up all the time with him you could, you would enjoy all the friendship privileges he offered you and you would clutch them close to your heart in the absence of any actual body to hold.

It was only before he went away this last time, a couple of months ago, that you felt something change. Something about how clingy he had been the night before he left, a little more tactile than he usually was. He was ants-in-his-pants fidgety and wouldn’t sit still. He was wrestling you into a hug one minute and then pushing you to the other end of the sofa the next. He held you so tightly and for so long when you hugged him goodbye that you had joked it was like he was going off to war. He had laughed only half-heartedly, which, for Chan, might as well have not been laughing at all. He had pulled back and looked at you intensely with his hands still on your waist and you had waited and waited for him to say or do something else but he just kept looking.

“Are you going to like, actually leave?” you had asked.

He snapped out of his trance and ruffled your hair.

“Course I’m going! Why? Trying to get me to stay?”

You weren’t, because you knew he was going to leave, anyway, that he had to go, but he sounded hopeful (or were you imagining it?).

“Yeah. I did consider locking you up for a second, but taking care of one animal is enough; I’m not sure I could cope with having to feed and care for you, too!”

He had done a proper laugh then and you were reassured that whatever had just happened, it was a blip, a glitch, nothing more. He had hugged you one last time, shorter, looser, and then turned to leave with a salute.

Then he was back, hugging you just as hard, fresh off the plane (rather unfresh, actually, and he had the cheek to ask to use your shower!).

And it was the same as it had ever been.

But it was also different. Because he had told you so many times while he was away that he missed you; he had said ‘wish you were here!’ so often that you actually believed it; your gallery was full of ‘found you!’ photos of ugly statues and ‘thought you’d like this’ shots of architecture and souvenirs—souvenirs he’d actually bought and brought home for you. He didn’t usually do that.

And now, there you were, with your hands on his skin and your cheek resting lightly on the top of his head and he was laughing at the film you were watching and taking your hand from the hem of his top, crossing it over his torso and holding it there. He closed his fingers over yours. Holding hands. You flattened your palm over his stomach and stroked sideways, the circle of your arms tighter around him, and you wanted to ask what this meant. Did it mean anything? Had he just been lonely on the road? Did he just want some physical contact? Were you just... there?

You weren’t one to be stuck in indecision. You didn’t have the patience for it. You decided, when you first met, that you weren’t going to act on your feelings because trying to date an idol was an insane thing to do. And you didn’t need the stress.

But you also didn’t need the long, drawn-out stress of a ‘will they? Won't they?’ scenario with one of your closest friends.

And, if you were going to be really honest, you kind of did need a good fuck. And you’d thought about fucking him a lot, one might say too much. And if he was interested, if something had changed and he saw you differently now, well, then the bedroom was calling for you.

“Chan?” you said quietly.

He twisted his head a little.

“Yeah?”

“Can I... touch you?”

You drew your fingers back, softly grazing your nails against his abs. He giggled.

“What do you mean? We already are touching!”

You slipped just the tips of your fingers beneath the waistband of his jogging bottoms and the waistband of his boxers.

“No, I mean... touch you.”

“Oh, sh-… Uh.”

You didn’t move your hand; you felt his heartrate quicken, thumping back against your chest.

“You don’t have to say yes. It’s ok if the answer’s no.”

“Yeah, no,” he said. “I mean, the answer’s yes. It’s ok.”

“Are you sure?” you asked.

He swallowed and nodded and put his hand over yours, carefully encouraging it lower.

“Yes, I’m sure.”

His hand left yours as it disappeared beneath the fabric of his clothes and you couldn't breathe as your fingers ran over the velvet skin of his soft cock, which twitched on contact. As you pushed his trousers and his boxers down, you almost couldn’t look, couldn’t bear the thought of disappointment, after all this waiting, after every fantasy, but you needn’t have worried. Of course, it was fucking perfect. Just like the rest of him. You wrapped your fingers around his semi-hard length and he shifted.

“You don’-” Then he hesitated.

“Don’t what?”

“Uh, you don’t have to be gentle...”

Then he wrapped his fingers around yours, squeezed a little tighter, and your thighs squeezed, too. You chuckled, a little embarrassed, a little shy actually, a little over-awed.

“Channie likes it rough, huh?”

You didn’t need to see his face to know he was blushing; you could feel the heat radiate from his cheeks.

“Um, well, uh-”

He was stammering now and you were amazed that he could be bashful with his cock in your hand, shy even though he was directing you.

“I like it,” you whispered and you felt a shiver go through him.

He kept his hand over yours and you smiled to yourself because you should have expected this. Control freak Chan, perfectionist Chan, Mr ‘I’ll just do it myself’ Bang. It was cute. But you weren’t going to let him get away with it. You let him control you, let him show you how he liked it, let him get himself to the point where his breathing was heavy and his bottom lip was bitten between his teeth and his brows were furrowed.

“Hey,” said, nudging his head with yours. “Who exactly is giving this handjob? You want me to just leave you to it or...?”

He spluttered and stopped and immediately let your hand go.

“Sorry, I-”

“You don’t have to apologise; I know you. But I want to do this for you, y’know?” You turned your head and gently bit the top of his ear before pressing a kiss to it.

“Yeah, got it. All yours.”

“Thank you.”

You had him panting again in seconds, because he had already given you his secrets, and when he tipped his head backwards and whined, it made your cunt pulse.

“Ok, you’re right, you’re right,” he gasped. “This is better. Fuck... Oh shit.”

He was moving like he couldn’t help himself, his hips snapping up, fucking himself in your fist and you could feel his thighs twitching, feel the tension coiling in his body.

It was building in you, too, as you soaked through your underwear. He wasn’t quiet and every moan, every grunt, every gasp of your name made your head spin. You hoped it wouldn’t stop here. After all this time, something was finally happening and you needed it to keep happening, you needed him to feel you, too. A moan fell from your own mouth as you imagined him fucking you, imagined that it wasn’t your hand around his cock but your cunt. That he liked it even rougher when he was inside you. That the deep black intensity he had inside him came out. That he fucked you like he danced, with every inch of his body and every ounce of strength.

“I’m-.. I’m-…"

You didn’t need him to tell you.

“I know, babe. Go on, make a mess. Make a mess for me.”

With a shudder and a cry trapped low in his throat, he came, over your hand, over your fingers, over his stomach and his T-shirt. He was gulping in air with his eyes closed and a hand clenching and unclenching at his side.

“Oh, shit,” you whispered as you swiped a finger through the mess on his skin. “Who’s going to clean all this up?”

You raised your hand and brought it almost to your own mouth, then pretended to think twice before pressing down on his bottom lip. It was a bold move, you knew, but you were feeling emboldened.

Then he opened his mouth and took your cum-sticky fingers in without a second’s hesitation. Would the night’s surprises never end? He licked your fingers clean and ran his tongue over your palm before he swiped his finger through the mess on his stomach and lifted it to your lips. You laughed.

“I can do you one better.”

You shuffled and climbed out from behind him, pushing him down and straddling him. It was the first time you had been face to face; you both blushed when your eyes met and you couldn’t stop the giggle that rose in your throat. He giggled back and you recognised that you were on the verge of hysteria; if you let that giggle become a laugh, it wouldn’t stop until you were both crying. You tried to rein it in, this strange, self-conscious shyness that was gripping you, this wild giddiness that made you want to scream with laughter and cry ‘I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS IS HAPPENING RIGHT NOW!’. You were looking at Chan and you knew he felt it, too; his eyes glittered and then all but disappeared as his smile widened. He bit his lip to try to keep it in, but it was no use.

He snorted and covered his face with his hands as a loud laugh bellowed forth. You never could resist his mirth. You were helpless to it at the best of times. He was curling over, his whole body shaking, and you were climbing off him, flopping to the floor, weak with it, the laughter sapping your strength and overriding any capacity for being serious. It was too absurd. That this had just happened. That one day—one moment—you were friends and the next you were making him come over himself, that he was licking his own cum from your fingers. That you had wanted this for such a long time and sworn off it. That you had no idea it might be something he wanted. That you never even thought to ask! That it could have been this easy? All this time?

Your brain was elsewhere as your breath shuddered and tears streaked your cheeks. You thought you had got yourself under control: your breathing was shaky and your stomach hurt but your eyes were dry and you sat yourself up. Then you looked at Chan, face also tear-streaked, flushed with glee, and you both collapsed again.

“Don’t look at me,” Chan said, his voice thick and wobbly with laugher some minutes later. “Don’t look at me, please, I can’t laugh anymore, but can you get me a fucking tissue or something?”

You shut your eyes, scrunched your face, and pressed your fist to the bridge of your nose; you couldn’t laugh anymore, it would kill you. But you knew that if you turned to look at him, helpless and messy on his back, that another fit would catch you. You crawled to the end table and threw the box of tissues in his direction.

“Thanks.”

You leant back against the edge of the sofa and let your breath resume its normal rhythm, let your heart slow down, let Chan wipe himself up and tuck himself away. You felt him sit up as his knee knocked your shoulder and you turned so you could just see him out of the corner of your eye. He looked down at his cum-stained T-shirt and gingerly pulled it over his head. Then he looked at it, displeased.

“This was clean on like, an hour ago.”

“Oh, shit, sorry, dude. You want me to take the handy back or something?”

He looked alarmed for a second.

“Do you want to take it back?”

“No.”

“Good, neither do I.”

“I would kind of like to know where the fuck it came from though.”

“What are you talking about? You started it! You offered!”

“Chan, you were holding my hand. We don’t hold hands! Look at all this shit you bought me!” You gestured broadly to giftbags and boxes, trinkets and jewellery on the coffee table. “Besides, I’ve always wanted it; you haven’t.”

He stared at you, mute, looking like you’d just asked him a long division question.

“You always wanted it?”

“Yep.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?!”

“Because you didn’t want it!”

“How would you know?! You never asked!”

“Ok, well, did you?”

He looked up; he looked down. He looked thoughtful. He looked a little apologetic.

“I don’t really know,” was his eventual answer.

“Well, there you go. That’s why I didn’t say.”

Silence reigned and you didn’t want this to collapse, to fizzle into awkwardness.

“Do you want it? Now?” you asked.

“Yeah.” At least he sounded sure about that.

“What changed?”

When he looked at you and caught your eyes, there was a look there you hadn’t seen in them before. It was almost painfully soft, tender in a way that pierced your heart. He didn’t say anything for a moment, just looked at you like he was looking at something precious, something sweet. Then he shrugged.

“I’ve never been away from you that long before.”

“And?”

“I didn’t want to be. It made me not want to go at all. And I couldn’t work out why it mattered so much. I’ve been away before. I’ve been here, even, and just been busy and not seen you for a while. But it felt different this time, somehow. I really didn’t want to go. And I talked about it and everyone told me I was like, the world’s biggest idiot. They all apparently thought—or knew?—I had feelings for you already and they all just said ‘tell her! You’ve got to tell her! Go for it!’ and I wanted to. I was going to, the night before I left, but then I realised I’d be confessing all that stuff and then just... fucking off. I didn’t want to do that. So, I... did nothing, I guess.”

“Fair enough.”

“You wanted it all this time? Me, you wanted me?”

That he even had to ask was adorable, broke your heart a little. Who wouldn’t want him? He was everything you could have asked for and more; he ticked every box; he made your sad little heart sing like a songbird. And he still had to ask.

“Since the moment we met.”

“Shit.”

“I had no idea.”

He looked like he meant it, too: a little dazed, a little confused, just a hint of wonder on his face.

“So, what now?” he asked.

You shrugged.

“You mean right now, or general future ‘now’?”

“I guess both?”

“Can I be honest?”

“Yeah.”

“Right now, I would really like to do something about how badly I want to fuck you.”

And he was bashful Chan, again, his eyes wide and the tips of his ears pink, his mouth slightly open with surprise. You watched his Adam’s apple bounce as he swallowed.

“I... am amenable to that.”

“Want to try that again with something even slightly sexy?”

And he blushed bright, covering his face with his hands.

“Fuck, ok, give me a second.”

You laughed and moved from the floor to sit opposite him on the sofa, your knees touching. You waited patiently for a second or two, then tapped his leg.

“I’m flustered, ok!” he cried. “You’ve got me all... flustered. I don’t know... I-.. Agh. I swear I’m not this bad usually. I promise. I just--… this has really taken me off-guard! Fuck, I didn’t know. I-”

You interrupted him to climb into his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. He lifted his face to yours and you kissed him, just a light peck on his petal pink lips.

“How about you let me lead, then?” you asked, your voice soft and low. “Can you do that? Can you let me take control?”

He looked at you pleadingly, his eyes round and wide, and you were worried that it meant no, that he was going to say he didn’t want that.

“Yes, please.”

Fuck.

With your hands on either side of his face, you pulled him closer and kissed him again, deep this time, deep and slow and breathless. He tasted of honey butter chips, which you had never liked before that moment. His tongue rolled with yours, soft and sweet and every bit as good as you had imagined. He whined quietly, just barely, when you pulled back, when you sank your teeth into the plush pink of his lower lip. When you looked at each other, nose-to-nose, his eyes were wide again, sparkling and bright and looking at you like you were the whole world.

It wasn’t weird and it wasn’t uncomfortable and it wasn’t awkward; it didn’t feel like crossing a line or pushing a boundary; it felt like you should have been doing this all along. It was different for the two of you, sure, it was different. But you’d been ready for this change since you learnt his name, since he held his hand out to you and smiled politely. This different was good. This different was everything you’d ever wanted.

#bangchan x reader #chan x reader #bangchan smut #bangchan fic #chan smut #chan fic #skz fic #skz x reader #skz smut

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total-drama-brainrot · 10 months

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Noah is canonically the youngest of eight sibling. Eight.

You don't grow up in a family that large, as the youngest and therefore the favourite victim, and not have a super casual relationship with touch.

This guy is light enough to be literally blown away by a strong breeze; if you think even for a second that his family didn't take turns carrying him around like a briefcase and abducting him from whatever he was doing into a Family Pile™ then you're objectively wrong.

(You also can't convince me that he wasn't spoiled rotten as the baby of the family.)

So frequent platonic touching is pretty normal for him, expected even, and he tends to be more tactile than his personality or demeanour would suggest.

He gives Owen side-hugs and pats on the arm every time the two interact, and wilfully flops himself onto Eva whenever he's overwhelmed and wants the company of someone comparatively quiet (she always uses it as an excuse to carry him to the gym and encourage him to bulk up, though it never works). He tries to tire out Izzy's boundless energy by play-fighting and grappling with her (much to his chagrin) despite him essentially ending up as her glorified chew toy, and often times passes out due to being a stick insect in human form.

It's unexpected, just how casually clingy he is to the people he trusts/likes.

But you know who isn't used to physical contact?

Cody E.J. "my parents forgot my birthday" Anderson

This wet noodle of a boy bigs himself up as a ladies' man and a hot commodity but wouldn't know what to do with himself if someone held his hand. The concept of affection of any kind is so foreign to him, especially positive physical contact- I wouldn't be surprised if he could count the amount of hugs his parents had given him on one hand.

And this is backed by his canonical desperation for acknowledgement! Every time he pursues Gwen, even when he's directly shot down and sometimes harshly rejected, he still tries to win her affections and festers the delusion that she likes him. After all, everyone who's supposed to care about him does the same! His parents, 'friends' or lack thereof, ect.; they all ignore/rebuff him so it must be a sign of endearment.

Additionally, he sleeps with a stuffed emu at the ripe age of 16/17- as stated by Sierra, which he never denies (not that there's anything wrong with that, stuffed animals are top tier imho). You know who else sleeps with stuffed animals? Touch-starved people.

Cody is incredibly attention-starved, touch-starved and, post World Tour, in all likelihood somewhat touch-averse- at least when it comes to other people initiating contact.

To elaborate; Sierra is constantly breaching his personal bubble non-consensually, which would inadvertently condition anyone into being at least a little haphephobic, but Cody himself is more than happy to instigate contact with people he trusts (i.e. hugging Alejandro when he protects Cody from Sierra overnight in Rapa Phooey!).

...See where I'm going with this?

We see these two cuddling twice in canon; once in the Awake-a-thon and again in the Celebrity Manhunt. Once is happenstance, but twice indicates a pattern or coincidence but I'm going to gloss over that for the sake of this post.

Plus, with their consistent proximity during Action, they had plenty of time to form some type of relationship be it friendly or more.

(Wouldn't you want to at the very least get some closure from the guy who kissed you/you kissed for the world to see? It would be awkward to completely ignore each other, and they literally shared a cabin at one point so it's not like they were strangers either. So of course they're at least cordial from Action onwards.)

Then, as Noah becomes more comfortable around Cody, his tactile tendancies come to play.

Cody, predictably, reacts skittishly at the alien phenomenon known as friendly touch and tries to play it off to preserve his cool-guy image. Except Noah's not falling for it. He's observant, if emotionally illiterate, and watching the guy you just backpatted in greeting jump five feet into the air and screech like a falcon is a flashing red alarm for even the most empathetically challenged people.

Eventually, Noah gets Cody to divulge his issues with human contact and offers his assistance to the brunette. If giving his pal a hug every now and then, and letting him in turn initiate whatever he's comfortable with, would help him overcome his rocky relationship with touch then Noah is more than happy to oblige. It's not like it's out of the norm for him, so he doesn't mind at all.

Then, gradually, Cody loses his touch aversion.

But a lifetime of isolation won't be magically cured that easily, and he finds himself craving Noah's embrace more and more. Again, the taller of the two is content to give him what he wants. Their agreement evolves into the duo napping together and feeding into Noah's sleep-hugging habit, or just spending quality time in a heap of pretzeled limbs under a weighted blanket.

(Whether their relationship is platonic or romantic is entirely up to interpretation, though I'm partial to the two being friends who are just Like That since it allows for the funniest potential character interactions. The bromance is real.)

That's as good a place as any to end the post, before I end up writing a whole drabble.

#long post #cody's canonical neglect always has me frothing at the mouth. the angst potential. the headcannons.#he's too relatable. what a slay 💅#been thinking about the noco dynamic a lot lately. it's very scott pilgrim and wallace wells-coded in my mind.#a lot of homosexual undertones in their friendship that they pretend not to notice because of The Incident™.#maybe even something queerplatonic? 😳#it's a grey area. interpret it however you'd like.#total drama #td noah #td cody #noco #silly headcanons #thoughtless posting #ophe rambling #kinda drafty in here (posts from the drafts)

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robsheridan · 5 months

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Very excited to finally tell you what's kept us so busy recently: I’ve had the unique honor of directing/creating the first-ever tour visuals for one of the greatest live rock bands of our generation and a hugely formative part of my Seattle youth: Pearl Jam.

I haven’t worked in tour production/design since NIN 2014, but I always said I would go back to it one day if the right artist and the right creative connection came around. There’s a short list of musicians I’d drop everything and rewire a year of my family’s entire life to make art with, and Eddie Vedder is absolutely one of them.

Ed and I hit it off immediately and discussed an inspiring, experimental approach to creating textural video art inspired by the Dark Matter theme using decidedly tactile and analog methods, with the the album’s light-painted artwork as a jumping off point (I wasn’t involved in the album art / promotions, that was all underway when I came on board). My wife and collaborator Steph, who produced the project, set up a raw studio space here in Tacoma and assembled a lean local camera crew, and we spent two months filming in the experimental, open-ended, DIY style that I like to work. With macro lenses and the 1000fps Ember slow-motion camera (made by fantastic local Washington company Freefly), we followed paths of inspiration through elements and states of matter: Light refractions, chemical reactions, fluid dynamics, incandescent projections (including an old overhead projector that ended up in the show) and other experimental setups tracing the connective tissue of the universe. It was prolific and intense, and wouldn’t have been possible without Steph’s rapid problem-solving and a talented camera, animation, and post-prod team.

A grueling month of editing/programming/rehearsals later, the Dark Matter world tour is out on the road now, with two shows under our belt in Vancouver last weekend.

I’ll have a lot more to say about this production, the unique analog practical VFX we employed, and of course videos to share as more people start to see the shows and I maybe get ten seconds to breathe. For now, I’m off to Portland - show number three is tonight!

#pearl jam #eddie vedder #dark matter #concert visuals #production design #Rob Sheridan productions #rob sheridan

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rockethorse · 5 months

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Calcinidae Bay Lot Tour: Marine Discovery Centre

I finally got around to picking the terrains I wanted to use for Calcinidae Bay's subhoods, so the Bay now officially has a(n as-of-yet unnamed) Downtown! Yay! Let's take a look through the only currently-finished lot there, the Marine Discovery Centre and Aquarium.

First I wanna shout out @dirtfauna for suggesting I build an aquarium and getting me thinking about this in the first place! As I was putting on the finishing touches I was also inspired by seeing @lolabythebaysims's gorgeous lot influenced by the Belle Isle Aquarium.

Before I get into the lot, I need to show the original Sims 4 shell for reference. It's "what the.. shell?" uploaded to the Gallery by simbellaz, and as you'll see, it was both perfect for and wildly impractical as the basis for an aquarium.

I don't normally go for shell challenges that have so many internal walls, but all those little 1-tile-wide hallways were practically SCREAMING to be made into fish tanks! The external "walls" you see added to my TS2 shell are all either actually half-walls, fences, or just windows placed with moveobjects, all of which are allowed within a standard shell challenge. It may seem like a cop-out, but it's more limiting/challenging than you'd think.

But enough preamble. Let's take a look inside!

The entrance is also a small gift shop. It seems like every aquarium I've ever been to has also sold jewellery. Don't ask me about my tiny penguin earrings.

I really wanted a "fish tank tunnel" vibe, and the effect was... almost perfect, lol. Close enough for a shell challenge IMO. I so so badly wanted to break my CC-free rule to place some fish shaders, but I'm glad I stuck to my guns because I think the solution I came up with looks goofy but effective. (Plus you wouldn't see them in build/buy anyway.)

Ooohhhh jellyfish tank ooohhhhhh they're so lifelike and graceful

I have my fun.

That little "airlock" room is a fun pirate-y undersea exhibit that connects to the outside and is probably where school field trips would loop around rather than heading upstairs.

Through the pirate's cabin is a touch pool and tactile play room where kids can inspect rubber anatomical fish models. I like to imagine the TV plays a short looping movie featuring a B-grade celebrity talking to a cartoon bass about the water cycle, fish spawn, and pollution.

The outdoor area is where the field trip groups would probably eat their packed lunches, fill out activity sheets, and take a commemorative photo with the world's worst greenscreen that's supposed to make it look like you're underwater but just ends up eating half your hair and shirt.

If you're not a student and you're just here for the love of fish, you'd probably head upstairs to get a closer look at the fish tunnel, smaller specialty tanks, and the squid/octopus models. (This room is technically considered outdoors thanks to the shell so tbh I'm not sure how lighting/temperature would behave during gameplay.)

The third floor has more tanks, some hands-on displays about aquatic plants and marine ecology, and finally a room with the actual floor-to-ceiling aquarium objects.

I thought this would be an interesting lot to run as an owned business, so I included a small employee area tucked behind the guest toilet block on the ground floor. It also helped to naturalistically answer "how would Sims feed themselves if their outing wouldn't stop complaining they were hungry," a concern I keep in mind whenever I make a lot I think would be a nice place to take a date.

And here's the floorplan! This lot had a pretty severe ugly stage but I'm really really happy with what we ended up with and the vibe I achieved without any CC. Hope you enjoyed reading this far and that it could give you some decorating inspiration!

#the sims 2 #sims 2 maxis match #s2mm #Calcinidae Bay

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hypnoneghoul · 1 year

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When You Feel Safe, When You Feel Warm

WC: 1,4K

Relationship: Swiss/Rain/Dewdrop

Tags: Hurt/comfort (the hurt is just being tired on tour), fluff, very mild pet regression (i generally don't think it should count but tagging just to be safe? ig), kitty dew if you will, they're soooo in love <3

Touring is tiring, and all the exhaustion makes Dewdrop a bit… different? All the cuter, if you ask Rain and Swiss.

Read under the cut or on AO3.

He was exhausted. Again.

They all were, obviously, touring was extremely tiring, but Dewdrop was on a verge and everyone could see that.

It was always the same.

First, he was getting snappy, lashing out at everyone for no reason and feeling bad about it, because they didn’t deserve it. They treated him like a fragile piece of glass, if anything. Most of the time Dewdrop hated it, but when he was already too tired to even let out a snarl after tripping over Swiss’ phone charger, he secretly appreciated it. He wasn’t an asshole on a daily basis, like so many people seemed to be sure of, but it was one of the stages of his exhaustion.

Then there was a shutdown.

Dewdrop’s packmates were lucky if they heard one word from him during this stage. He didn’t have the energy for speaking, or anything else, anymore, he had to save all of the small bits he had left into playing the shows. His mates would have to force him to eat and drink then, too, because the only thing he knew was playing.

Something weird happened after that. First few times everyone thought it was Dewdrop getting better, maybe he slept better, but no, it was the highest possible level of his exhaustion, and they learned it quickly. He would start speaking again, smiling, laughing even, being more active in general, but the way he was doing all that wasn’t exactly how he carried himself normally.

Getting off stage after a ritual Dew would all but glue himself to Swiss, Rain or both of them, nudging their shoulders with his head, trilling quietly. This was a small alert, but an alert nonetheless. He was tactile, yes, but he wasn’t a fan of showing affection so openly in public, as they were, only really doing so during the rituals, claiming it was for the show.

When someone would take off the fire ghoul’s helmet, his own hands feeling borderline useless, he’d start chirping, rubbing his face against them, their arms, chests, necks and faces (if he could reach) and whining if his request for attention wasn’t fulfilled.

In the dressing room, the first thing Dewdrop would do was drag someone, ideally Rain, to the couch, making him lay down as he situated himself between his legs. His face would drop to the ghoul’s belly as he purred, claiming his spot for the next fifteen minutes at least.

No one really knew why that was Dewdrop’s exhaustion response, but no one complained. They hated that he was so tired, yes, but extremely clingy cat-like fire ghoul was something they all did enjoy experiencing. Very much so.

Today everyone knew what version of Dew they’d get after the show. He was still quiet before it, focusing on the preparations, but he noticeably started to switch during the performance already. So then, of course, he ended up doing what had been done by him so many times before.

The fire ghoul rubbed his helmet, instead of his hands which was more usual, all over Rain for the better part of the ritual, whispering and laughing into his ear whenever he could. He didn’t pick up much of it, but even the slivers of Dewdrop’s voice after practically not hearing him at all for the last few days made his heart ache in the best way possible. He stayed glued to the water ghoul’s side during the bows, abandoning his typical spot next to Mountain. His happy chirp when he got placed between Swiss and Rain could be heard by them even over all the still overwhelming noise, making them giggle to each other at the simple yet so adorable display of his love for them.

When they were free to go backstage, Dewdrop wrapped both his arms around Swiss’ own, headbutting his shoulder. Rain stayed close behind the two, not wanting to risk Dew panicking, but also refusing to let them out of his sight for his own selfish reasons.

Before they reached a dressing room Dewdrop started muttering something under his breath and whining, his head rubbing against the multi ghoul more frantically, from time to time getting it tilted back or to the side and shaken. Swiss, with one of his arms effectively trapped, couldn’t do much but Rain was already on it, elegant fingers undoing the laces on the back of Dewdrop’s helmet. He dragged the balaclava down too, and when his mate was free, his glamour slowly wearing off too, he let out a happy sigh, his eyes slipping shut for a moment as he melted against Swiss. He chuckled, reaching to run his fingers through the mess on Dew’s head that they usually called his hair. He gave him a gentle scratch behind his ear, spot they knew the fire ghoul loved, and was rewarded with another pleased trill.

“Let’s get you inside, love,” Rain pushed him forward gently, a few steps and they were in the room. The water ghoul put Dewdrop’s helmet and his own away, taking off as much of his uniform as he managed before his mate started whining again.

Finally, when Rain plopped down onto a radioactive looking couch by the wall, Swiss got freed as Dewdrop launched himself into the water ghoul’s open arms. He crawled on top of him, ending up with his face buried in his chest as Rain gently, as to not tug on the sweaty knots, played with his hair. Swiss managed to change, in the meantime, grinning incessantly at the beautiful background noise that Dewdrop’s loud purring was. He prepared some comfy clothes for Rain and Dew too and packed up some of their stuff.

“Okay, princess, we can get going,” the multi ghoul announced, addressing Rain.

“Pssst, love,” he leaned down to whisper into Dew’s ear, hooking a stubborn strand of golden hair behind it. He moved his head up, resting his chin on Rain’s sternum as he blinked at him sleepily, “we gotta head back to the bus.”

Dewdrop half whined, half grumbled, tightening his arms around his mate’s waist. Swiss giggled above them, crouching down to run his big hands over the fire ghoul’s back, “Come on, I’ll carry you, doll.”

A bit reluctantly Dewdrop peeled himself off of Rain, only to be immediately scooped up into Swiss’ arms. Another trill sounded from Dew, as he shoved his face into the multi ghoul’s neck and let himself be carried through the venue’s seemingly endless corridors.

The next thing Dewdrop knew he was being tossed into a small bunk on their bus. His eyes widened and he let out a small panicked sound when Swiss’ arms left him for a moment.

“Shhh, you’re okay, I’m not going anywhere,” he assured and soon he did crawl into the tight space after his mate and wrapped him up in his arms. Swiss turned them so his back was to the bunk’s wall and Dew’s to his chest.

Before the small ghoul settled fully, though, “Mhm… R- Rainy?”

“He's coming, bug,” Swiss mumbled into the crook of his neck.

True to his word the curtain was peeled back again after a moment and Dewdrop was met with a sideways view of Rain’s smiling face, “Hi, love.”

“Hi,” Dew giggled and he suddenly got hoisted back and turned again by Swiss’ arm across his chest. With how much, or rather how little, space there was in those bunks they had to really work to make it work for them three.

Swiss laid down flat on his back, Rain curled into his side and Dewdrop sprawled out on top of them both, all their tails tangled. He had his face buried in between his mates’, both Rain’s stubble and Swiss’ moustache tickling his cheeks in the best possible way.

At one point Dewdrop's hands drifted down from where they were curled around his mates' necks, one landing over Swiss' soft tummy and the other on Rain's bicep. He moved them up and down for a few moments, as if he was shy to get to what he actually planned on doing.

He did, though. Dew slowly started squeezing his fists and pushing them down, soon fully kneading his ghouls, relaxing all three of them even more.

“Hey, Dew?” the multi ghoul whispered before any of them truly dozed off, nuzzling his nose into Dewdrop’s hair. His mate perked up at that, cocking his head to the side, a quiet ‘mrrp’ sound escaping him, making both Swiss and Rain absolutely melt. “God, you’re so cute. I love you so much.”

“You’re like a little kitten,” Rain mumbled from his spot where he was partially hidden by a curtain of gold, “you know that?”

As if it was supposed to be an answer, Dewdrop chirped happily and let the noise bleed into a steady purr as he rubbed his face against Swiss’ shoulder. Both his mates chuckled and kicked up their own content rumbles, tightening their hold on their sweet little kitten.

When they’d wake up the next day, Dewdrop would still be tired, they all would, but with a prospect of spending all their days like this together, again, they’d survive.

#hypnone writes #the band ghost #nameless ghouls #dewdrop ghoul #rain ghoul #swiss ghoul #fanfiction #fluff #kitty dew

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thehotpilot · 13 days

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bucktommy time! 💖 when you receive this message 💌 you must share at least one (1) headcanon about bucktommy being domestic! 🏳️‍🌈🥰

hii!! ok setting the scene - it’s a common headcanon that buck is a bit of a tactile person right, and so he likes keeping his hands busy because it calms his mind and helps him focus..AND so as many of us are, i am a big fan of tommy in reading glasses (trust, this will be important).

so at this point their relationship, buck has been staying over at tommy’s house more often than not and tommy has slowly been making more and more space for him (in his kitchen, in his bedroom, in his PANTS) and its only natural for them to start sharing clothes, right, and given the hints of bucks closet we’ve seen this season it looks like their styles and closets are starting to merge. Well last season we saw a few of tommy’s outfits (the harbor tour, the daddy issues dinner) included over shirts/shirt jackets with buttons running down the front.

so my headcanon is that buck starts wearing tommy’s jackets more and more because they’re bigger and warmer and they smell like his boyfriend, but he’s always been a tactile person and he likes to play with the buttons to center himself, but after a while they start to come loose or wobbly, and when tommy gets them back he’ll notice a button coming loose and maybe he thinks it happened in the wash, but he’s a man of many talents right? he knows how to fix a button obviously so he whips out his reading glasses and his little box of sewing supplies and he settles in for a bit of mending (sustainable king!) and while he’s at it he might as well fix the hole in the ear of jee-yun’s stuffy that he found behind the couch cushion from that time they watched her while chim and maddie had a well deserved date night, and also the tie on bucks apron that came loose after tommy found buck in the kitchen with nothing else on underneath!! (actually he has a little pile of clothes to be mended bc he’s cute like that)

and at some point buck comes home and sees his big beefy boyfriend who flies helicopters and fixes cars and does muay thai using those big strong capable fingers to delicately and meticulously mend his jacket and the glasses are slipping down the strong nose that buck loves so much (and maybe he’s wearing some loose sweats and a white tank that does insane things for his arms) and he loves that tommy cares so much about something so delicate that he has to jump his bones about it (and when tommy goes to take the glasses off buck gets a little shy and pushes them back up his nose while tommy’s fingers are playing with him NOT so delicately)!!

#and maybe he starts loudly complaining about all of his loose buttons and tommys like well could you be any more obvious about it evan #buck has a competence kink alright #i don’t make the rules #sorry i got a bit carried away #tevan #kinley #evan buckley #bucktommy #tommy kinard #ask box

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lemonhemlock · 20 days

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ok so hear me out fic writers: helaegon but they're touring the country in a van during the summer break. they have to share a crowded space. it's hot outside but they have great views. it's evocative and angsty and messy. sightseeing (they have a list), domestic chores (meal planning bc their fridge is small) and cutthroat talks about their family at the most inappropriate of times. tactile. epicurean. delirious.

#helaegon #hotd fic #i see it as a fluffy romantic DDDE if that makes any sense #it makes sense in my head! for me! :):):)

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margueritelarochelaise · 2 years

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Tactile Tour à La Rochelle

Le “Tactile Tour” de l’Association Valentin Haüy s’invite à La Rochelle du 3 février au 1er mars 2023 à la Médiathèque Michel Crépeau. Tactile Tour Valentin Haüy © Tous droits réservés “Tactile Tour“, une exposition à toucher. L’accès à la culture et à l’art pour les personnes aveugles ou malvoyantes est au cœur des actions de l’association Valentin Haüy depuis sa création il y a 130 ans. De…

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#art #artiste #arts visuels #aveugles #charente maritime #clin d&039;art #déficients visuels #exposition #La Rochelle #les yeux bandés #Malvoyants #médiathèque michel crepeau #permis de toucher #tactile tour #Valentin Hauy

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pjisskullourful · 8 months

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𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓮𝓭 𝓼𝓱𝓮𝓮𝓽𝓼

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

🌼Damiano × reader

part 26 [parts 1-25]

NSFW 🔥 filthy playtime for nasty kittens only

° Damiano David/female reader insert

° “Did you know that I love you?” He leaned in, whispering into your ear. “And that’s why I’m going to blindfold you and push you around and play with you until your brain absolutely melts.” - theres a new toy damiano has been dying to share with you

wordcount::: 9,851

° powered along by a request for extra praise from sweetheart @vittoriaisfuckingpathetic 💋 [requests are open!] [commissions are priority, secure the 2nd spot in my cue here!]

“Kitten, the house looks so good. I think this is cleaner than some of the hotels I’ve been staying in, for real.” Damiano said, coming back into the living room. “Honestly, I’m impressed.”

You looked up from the screen of your mobile phone. “What, were you expecting to come home to find muddy pig tracks through the whole apartment or something?”

“No, no, no. I would definitely have a lot of questions if that were the case. No, I know that you’re not a slob who was gonna wreck the place up.” He clarified. “I’m just really noticing it, in every room that I’m in. And I appreciate it, all this work must have taken a lot of time.”

“It wasn’t so bad. You were gone for such a long time that I could stretch it out and do it in little bursts.” You said.

He didn’t return to sitting on the sofa with you, placing his hands into the pockets of his baggy pants as he remained standing. “Surely you could find something more fun to do while I’m gone.”

You shrugged. “I guess. But I know how a clear house helps you keep a clear head and that’s what I wanted for you when you got home. It’s also a little selfish on my part because I’m working to get rid of any distractions. It’s all a play to hoard more of your time for myself.”

Maybe there would be a time when him leaving for tour didn’t feel so significant. It must be coming, the moment when this became normal, not something to adjust to.

But that time was not right now. This leg of the Rush world tour had seen you at a loss of how to be without him, as if you had forgotten how to do it, as if it were a brand new challenge. Some of the days had dragged by at snail speed with you feeling truly lonely.

Cleaning the apartment had been a way to fill the slow hours. At the same time, doing a task that you knew would earn you praise like ‘good girl’ had helped you feel closer to him - in some strange way.

It had been good to have something tactile to do when your jealousy over his globe-trotting days had begun to get to you. He had always kept you up to date, wanting to share his excitement with you. You never wanted to meet his enthusiasm with bitterness, even if there were times when it made you homesick for a life you hadn’t truly experienced. You couldn’t show him this jealousy, you couldn’t do anything with it. It was an unpleasant taste that you had to swallow down, hoping to wait it out.

It was better when you were together, that way all of his fun included you.

“And it’s not just how clean everything is that’s got me so impressed, babygirl.” He said and you noticed something different in the way he was looking at you - or was it just a trick of the lighting? “That package for me got delivered over a week ago and you just put it on my bedside table and left it alone. The packaging is still perfect, you clearly didn’t try to get into it once. You’re so well-behaved, even when I’m not here and I appreciate that so much.”

“It’s no big deal. It was addressed to you so it’s not mine to open.” You said.

“But didn’t you really wanna know what’s in there, under all of that packaging?” He asked.

“Sure. But I wasn’t gonna invade your privacy like that.” You said.

“Well, it seems like curiosity isn’t gonna kill this kitty, huh?” He said. “Maybe we should open it together ‘cause it was addressed to me but it’s really for both of us.”

He offered a hand out to you and you put your hand in his without hesitation. You left your phone on the couch, keen to discover what this secret package was. You had succeeded in fighting back the urge to rip it open, but that didn’t mean you weren’t deeply intrigued, drawn back into looking at it and wondering semi-regularly.

The long rectangular box was entirely concealed by the opaque mailing satchel. And the satchel itself hadn’t provided the answers that you needed. It showed you the sender’s address, but clarity hadn’t come with this. LTWS wasn’t a familiar brand name to you and typing it into Google had been no help, a few pages of results, contradicting one another with no obvious official website. It was easier to give it up, making the decision to spare yourself more frustrations. Patience wasn’t your strong suit, but you had willed yourself to tap into some, knowing it would please him - a delayed reward.

You stood up, smiling as you reached his eye level. But he remained still, not leading you to the bedroom where the box was located, as you had expected.

“Actually, how about you be a good kitty for me and take your clothes off right now?” He said.

Some sort of sex toy, I should have known, you thought as your first sense of reaction was to do exactly as you were told. “Underwear too?” You asked as you pushed the pants down from your thighs.

“Uh-huh, you’re not gonna need them and I don’t need them slowing me down.” He said and so you unhooked the clasps of your bra. “Do you have any idea how sexy your obedience is? God, I’ve missed it.”

You smiled, maintaining eye contact as you took your underwear down, able to step out of it. “Well I’ll have to keep it up so that you can get your fill.”

Of course you wanted him to be equally as naked. But in the absence of that, you still had plenty to enjoy, you could just focus on the way that he was looking at you. His eyes were making thorough work of getting reacquainted with your nude form. You were pleased rather than feeling the need to cover any part of your body. His gaze was a nice reminder of how much he wanted to admire you, during your time apart he hadn’t developed any radical differences in his tastes that would keep him from enjoying your body. It gave you the feeling that you could settle because everything was right (blissful, in fact) in your world.

Holding his hand, you went in the direction of the bedroom. You noticed the package missing from his nightstand. But before you could start to locate the mystery item, he was distracting you with kisses. His hands were on either side of your face, drawing you in and you didn’t resist.

You didn’t try to guess at what he had planned. You gave him your trust by sinking fully into this moment, positively savouring all of this closeness.

“I kinda don’t want to just show you the thing that I bought…” He quietly told you, his forehead resting against yours as his thumb stroked your cheeks. “It’s more than something you simply look at, so I think it would be better if you experienced it. That’s a better introduction than you looking at it, don’t you think?”

You hesitated, but this extra thinking time didn’t yield the result of the perfect thing to say. “Um, I would love to agree with you. But, Daddy- I don’t think I know what you’re talking about.”

“Right.” He said with a smile. “It’s all so clear in my head ‘cause I know exactly what’s going on, but you don’t… okay, new approach: how do you feel about being blindfolded, or is that not what you’re in the mood for today?”

You gently took one of his hands off of your face so that you could apply a kiss to the palm. “I’m in the mood for whatever you’re in the mood to do…”

His smile grew and you felt that rush of happiness over finding the right thing to say, the two of you confirmed to be on the same page.

“Did you know that I love you?” He asked and it would have been easy to get bashful. He leaned in, whispering into your ear. “And that’s why I’m going to blindfold you and push you around and play with you until your brain absolutely melts.” Now you were feeling bashful, a blush filling your cheeks. “Are you ready for that?”

You licked your lips. “Yes Master, I am.”

He gave you a kiss on the cheek before leaving his spot directly in front of you. “I’m glad that you said yes to this, because maybe I had already started to put things aside.”

“You’re a man with a plan, huh?” You asked.

He had crouched down, reaching for items that you hadn’t seen him placing under the bed. “Well once I started thinking, ideas just naturally grouped themselves together in my head.” He had more than the sash-style blindfold in his hands now.

“The kitty mask goes over the blindfold.” He told you, seeing your uncertainty.

“Is that, like, a safeguard to keep me from taking it off? 'Cause that's not necessary, Daddy. If you tell me to keep the blindfold on, then I will. I'm not secretly waiting for an opportunity to brat.” You said.

“No. I just really like how you look in this and it's been a while since I've seen you in it. And maybe you'll find out why it's appropriate attire…” He said. He held the blindfold in both hands. “May I?”

You made a face, feigning indecisiveness. “I don't even get to see you naked first? It's been so long.”

“Okay, settle down, you know you're not gonna be left waiting for nudity from me.” He said. That wasn't anything you could argue against - it was a running joke amongst your friends that they couldn't show up to your apartment unannounced, they had to give you a heads-up so you could make sure Damiano wasn't having his regular bout of time walking around naked.

He stepped closer and started placing the sash over your eyes. “You just show me how patient you can be. And I promise you will be seeing my naked body soon enough, we've got a lot of catching up to do.”

The soft material covered your vision and you shut your eyes. “Yes, we do.” He wrapped it around then tied the ends at the back of your head. In the darkness, you waited, trying to picture what he was up to.

The next thing you felt was the sash being pushed more firmly against your skin as he fixed the leather mask onto your face. It rested over the bridge of your nose, covering your forehead, with the triangular ears protruding from the top. He got the straps into place and tied them in a knot, also at the back of your head.

“It looks good, kitty. But does it feel good, not too tight?” He asked, his fingers playing with your hair.

“No, it feels fine.” You said.

“Come with me.” He said, taking your hand while putting his other to the nape of your neck, gently guiding you.

You took smaller steps than usual, ready to stop in the exact second that your toes touched something. But that moment didn't come. He got you over to the bed, instructing you to put one of your knees forward, onto the mattress. Once both your knees were on the mattress he got you to move a little further forward, then it was time for you to lie down, your bare chest meeting the sheets.

You listened carefully to the sounds of him moving around the bedroom. You wondered about what he was doing, your mind working to fill in these blanks as the minutes seemed to stretch out. You reflected on the clues he had given you, why was he so fixated on seeing you in the cat mask?

You felt the mattress dip under his weight as he sat, or kneeled, on your left side. Then you felt something soft, and seemingly light, brushing against your shoulder. You assumed that this was whatever had come in the package because you couldn't immediately link what you were feeling to something you had experienced before. It was a small touch but it grabbed all of your attention anyway. There wasn't any pressure, just the beginnings of the sensation of being tickled.

Goosebumps raised on your skin as he started to drag the mysterious object down, the fuzzy tip moving towards the centre of your back. He moved it to your spine, gradually stroking it up-and-down, causing you to squirm a little.

“Am I supposed to be guessing what it is?” You asked, turning your head only to find more darkness.

“No, we're not playing that game. You're just supposed to be enjoying it.” He said.

“I am.” You said as he started to move the mystery item in swirls.

Your imagination and memory worked together, trying to piece together an image to match what you were feeling. Was it a pom-pom, attached to what? Had he bought a feather tickler?

You couldn't help squirming as he focused it on the small of your back. The fuzzy object moved in slow, light swipes that had your toes flicking, giggles bubbling up in your throat. You wondered how this view was appealing to him.

He started to trace it down one of your thighs, aiming for the inner portion and your muscle tensed in anticipation.

Then you were feeling more of the fuzziness, more than just a tip. This thin object reached down almost the length of your thigh, adding extra dimensions to what you were trying to imagine.

You were starting to envision a strip of plush fabric, maybe the tie of a cosy dressing gown. It felt light enough to be this, but what did this have to do with your cat mask? Why couldn’t you just look at a new robe? He transferred it to your other thigh and you realised you were no closer to a definitive answer, so you gave it up to just enjoy the feeling.

Suddenly there was a jolt through your body and before you could register what had happened, you were kicking both of your feet up. Your muscles clenched and your toes were twitching - he had passed the fuzzy item over the sole of your foot. Your stomach was gripped and you were laughing before you could help yourself.

“Oh, are you ticklish there, pet?” He asked as you were tentatively lowering your feet.

You got your laughter under control, still smiling as you responded. “Yes, everybody is ticklish on the bottom of their feet. I'm sure you would flinch if I did the same to you.”

“Hm, possibly. Too bad we'll never find out.” He said before springing the object onto your foot again.

“Ung…” You flailed your legs as you began laughing again. There was tension in your muscles as you waited for him to tickle you further. You grabbed for the sheets as you laughed loudly.

Your chest was tight and you had barely lowered your legs back down before he brushed it on your foot. Your laughter got louder and you rolled onto your side a little. Your whole diaphragm was vibrating with laughter and you set it free, letting your sounds fill the room.

“Sttt-sto-ah-ah…” Your word was mangled by the laughter, which was more than you could control as he kept the object with your foot, no matter how much you moved it. “You've got-gotta stttt-op!”

“How can you expect me to want to stop when you're making the cutest noises?” He teased, continuing to tickle you.

“Puh-please.” You said through the enduring laughter. “Ah, ha ha.” You rolled further away from him. You placed a hand over your mouth, trying to muffle the laughs as you attempted to get yourself under control again.

You felt the toy move away from you altogether, and the next thing to touch you was his hand. He grabbed for your hip, pushing you towards him again. “Okay, okay, please don't roll yourself right off the bed. We don't need you getting a bloody nose when you hit the ground or anything like that.”

“Oh, shit.” You said, going with his guidance to move back to your spot. “Will you stop?”

“Yes, kitten. I promise you.”

You had managed to kill off your laughter, taking in regular breaths again. “So that’s what you had delivered, some kind of tickling wand?”

“A tickling wand?” He repeated, sounding so uncertain it was as if he was pronouncing these words for the first time. “No, that’s not even close to what it is. You’re lucky I didn’t make this a guessing game because you just lost.

“It’s not designed to tickle, that’s just an added bonus because I like playing with you so much. Here, I’ll show you what it can do besides just tickling you.” He said.

You thought you heard the closeby click of a button being pushed, which offered limited clarity to your confused state. This was followed by the fuzzy material being brushed against your back again. Beginning at your shoulder, he laid it down in a diagonal line, reaching to one of your hips.

Once the object was resting against your body, you were able to identify a new sensation. The strip of plush fabric was buzzing, vibrating on a low intensity. This served to confuse you further, even through the pleasant feeling it gave you.

Before you could begin using this information for a new mental image, you were distracted by the sound of a draw on the nightstand rolling open. It quickly shut again. Then you heard what could have been a tube of lubricant being uncapped.

“How’s your ass?” He asked, sounding somewhat nonchalant.

But you were bewildered. “How is my-...? What kind of question is that?”

“What?”

“No, I’m the one saying what right now, Damiano.” You said.

“It’s a genuine question, I’m asking it with genuine concern because I need to know if anal should be off the table right now for any reason.”

“Oh.”

“So, how is your ass?”

“Um, would it be weird if I said it’s open for business?”

He chuckled. “If that’s the answer you want to give.”

“It’s all I can think of.” You said, blushing against the pillowcase. “I wanted to be witty or funny.”

“Well, you made me laugh.” He said and you noticed the teasing in his tone. “You just let me know if you change your mind on anal.”

“Mm-hmm.” You didn’t add anything extra this time around, not wasting time on finding the perfect thing to say.

The lube clearly held some sort of significance, but you didn’t know how to add it to the puzzle already in your head. The fluffy object continued its mild vibrating on your back, almost entirely overshadowed by the feeling of his slippery fingers between your buttcheeks. You drew in one deep breath after another as he started massaging the lube onto your hole. Slowly, tenderly, he progressed to applying it inside as well. You could feel the heat of your blushing still in your cheeks.

“Feels so good.” You wanted to reassure him of your willingness, but you couldn’t get your voice above a whisper.

“That’s great, babygirl.” He said, no longer making fun of you.

He tested at how relaxed you were by gradually sinking one of his fingers into your ass. He didn’t push in any deeper than the first knuckle, giving you the chance to adjust.

Momentarily you forgot about the blindfold as you lifted your head, turning it in his direction, only to be faced with the enduring darkness. “Maybe I should ask you the question now.”

“Hm?”

“How is my ass, Daddy?” You asked.

“Right, the question.” He said with a brief chuckle. “Your ass is adorable, sexy, perfect, addictive to play with, the best pillow anyone could hope for. And, I would say, adequately lubricated, what do you think?”

“Yeah, it feels like it.” You responded, lying your head down again.

“Good.” He said and you felt his hand leaving your butt.

You heard another subtle click as he took the furry item off of your back. Nothing seemed to happen after this and you waited. You still didn't know what his new purchase was - a tickling wand had been your best guess. Now you were stumped as to how the mystery item related to your hole needing to be lubed.

Was the lube now being applied to his cock? Or was this another incorrect guess from you? You worked at keeping impatience at bay, making yourself focus on getting comfortable.

“Are you ready, kitty?” He asked, resting what felt like a dry hand on your lower back.

“Uh–huh.” You replied, even though you still didn’t know what you were agreeing to. You maintained your trust in him, certain he would make it something that you would like.

You felt the mattress shifting and you anticipated to begin feeling his body on yours. But this didn’t come. Instead the next thing you felt was a fleeting brush from the furry material.

Then he was sliding something firm in between your buttcheeks. You felt the item’s tapered end easing towards your asshole and you took a deep breath. For the moment you had quit trying to fill in the blanks.

“Just stay relaxed for me, okay kitty?” He asked, his tone wonderfully warm and reassuring.

“Uh-huh.”

He worked slowly at fitting the lubricant plug into your asshole. You tried your best to remain still, but you didn’t think relaxed was a fitting descriptor for how you were feeling. You licked your lips, your chest tightening with excitement. Heat was rushing into your crotch with this area being lit up with tingles.

“You’re almost there. I know you can do it, babygirl.” He said. “Just a little… there you go, is that okay?”

“Yep, I’m happy with it.” You said, feeling another brush from the furry material, this time it was on the back of one of your legs. But you still weren’t interested in giving it much attention.

“Do you truly not know what’s going on? Or are you just playing along to let me live out my little fantasy of surprising you?” He asked.

“Truly, I don’t know what came in that package, or what it has to do with a plug, or what the plug has to do with what I genuinely thought was some sort of tickler. I know very little right now.” You said before silencing yourself, holding back from requesting the details you were hungry for.

“Well I guess now is a good time to stop with the blindfold.” He said and you lifted your head from the pillow. “I’ll let you see what’s going on for yourself.”

“Really?” You asked as you started to sit up, putting a little more caution into the action than you normally would.

“Yes, come here.”

You braced yourself by placing your knees on the bed, making a mental note of how you were still feeling the non-tickler brushing against different parts of your legs. But its importance continued to evade you.

He reached around your head, loosening the ties. You got your vision back, instantly regaining your bearings too.

You started to look over your shoulder, eager to get the full picture. You saw the fluffy cause of your tickling - a long and plush snake-esque object, lying limply behind your butt. It looked as soft as it felt. It was mostly made of black fur, with some pink stripes, almost like highlights in hair. But what made it vibrate, and why? And what required it to be associated with the plug filling your ass?

He wasn’t saying anything so you twisted your neck a little further, looking down to your butt. There was no separation between your ass and the furry thing, now you saw that. It wasn’t a snake.

You opened your mouth to share your realisation. But any words were replaced by a gasp for air when the toy in your body started to vibrate. It radiated out, affecting more than just your ass. Your eyes were wide as you looked at him, finding his phone in his hand, you assumed this was the controller of the new sensation.

“You see, not a tickling wand.” He said. “I don’t know if that kind of thing exists.”

“You got me a tail?” You asked, you tentatively reached for its end, unsure of how it should be handled.

“I sure did.” He said. “But this isn’t just any tail.”

“It’s a tail and a plug.”

“Right and it’s one of a kind, completely custom and made just for you, and your ass.” He said.

“What, really? I can’t believe you would do that for me, Daddy.” You said, your heart swelling.

“Why can’t you believe it? You deserve the best, and you should know that I will always get the best for you.”

You put your hands to either side of his face so that you could draw him in for a kiss. “Thank you, I love it.” You kissed him again, but pulled back far less to speak. “And I love being your kitty.”

He initiated the next kiss, brushing some strands of your hair away from your forehead. His other hand drifted slowly down your back, a light touch that could prompt delighted shivers.

“I'm so glad to finally see you wearing it. So many times when I was away it would pop into my mind and I would get this close to telling you to open the package and put it in because I really didn't know if I could wait. But being here to see it in person the first time, it's for sure the best way it could have happened.” He said.

“Custom?” You repeated, wanting to spend some more time on that concept.

“Yeah. I searched the entire internet and everything that I was finding was almost perfect. Like, the tail would be super pretty but the plug was metal. Or the plug would be perfect but it was attached to a bunny tail.” He said. “I got you a thirty inch tail and I got it in your favourite colours, instead of just getting one colour, how boring. I needed the plug to vibrate, which can be controlled on my phone…” He showed you the screen of his phone, it was a simple looking outlay. “And I knew you would like it better if it was silicone. I would rather you not have a tail at all, than have one that isn't absolutely perfect.”

“That's so sweet and thoughtful.” You said. “I literally don't think I could even imagine a better tail.”

He extended his phone to you. “Do you want to play with the vibrations?”

“Thank you, Master.” You said with a smile.

You pressed the plus symbol a few times, your gut tightening. You exhaled shakily and he began kissing your cheek, his lips lingering on your skin. You tapped a different button, one marked with a simple swirl. This brought up a handful of smaller buttons, which were numbered one to five. You looked to him for an explanation of what they did, but he just smiled at you and started to give your neck some kisses.

You tapped one and felt the vibrations change, they got more subtle, then gradually built up in intensity. You squirmed as it cycled through from low to high, your cunt feeling hot and tight. Number two worked in quicker bursts of stronger intensity, less build up and cool down. He sucked on your neck a little as you pressed three, experiencing a different pattern of the pulsations.

He had the bottom of the tail in hand, lifting the tip up to your face and playing it against the end of your nose. You giggled, screwing your nose up but not moving away. You tried out the other two modes of pre-set patterns, enjoying the surprises each of them held. He used the tip of the tail to draw a line along your jaw, then caressed it up-and-down on your neck, getting you feeling true shivers now.

You returned to the main screen, keeping the vibrations consistent. Your eyes started to flutter shut but before they could entirely close, they saw something of interest. His dick was standing stiff under the material of his pants.

“You're really enjoying how I look in it, huh?” You asked, placing your hand on his knee.

“Fuck yeah, I am. My sexy little kitty.”

You returned his phone to him, taking something out of his other hand. You held the cat mask up to your face again, reaching around your head. “Meow…”

He helped you in the task of tying it into a knot, then he was covering your mouth in eager kisses. All of your giddy desires were coiling in your gut.

“Do you wanna show it off for me?” He asked, stealing more kisses before you had the chance to answer.

“Uh-huh.” You said. You were going to get up, but you couldn't help kissing him another time first.

The tail dragged along the ground as you walked to the available space at the foot of the bed. The plush fur was so soft when it brushed against the backs of your thighs. You couldn’t help looking back over your shoulder at it, admiring the bushiness of this tail. You had done some online window-shopping and none of the sleek tails had appealed to you, even though their price tags were more realistic. But this tail was luxurious and it didn’t leave you wanting more.

You turned your back to him, assuming this was the view he wanted. Before you could get your feet firmly planted in position, your attention was brought back to the plug and your knees shook in response to the vibrations unexpected increase. Your breath hitched for a moment.

Then you concentrated yourself again. You arched your back and tensed your leg muscles. Slowly you moved your ass from one side to the other, with the tail moving according to this momentum. You could feel the heat rising in your body, this excitement needing somewhere to land.

You didn't keep your back to him for long, you were too eager to see his reaction. His eyes slowly lifted up to your face and he licked his lips.

You picked up the tail about halfway down its length, you swung the end gently in the air, picking up speed until you could complete a circle. Then another, and another. He smiled as he watched you play. You swayed your hips from one side to the other as you kept the tail in motion.

His eyes briefly left your body so that he could look at his phone. He moved his finger into place but you noticed that it didn't make contact with the screen, hovering instead. His eyes were fixed on your face when he did press it and you were feeling the effects instantly, but only quickly.

The vibrations changed to a less intense mode, not dominating your focus. But then a powerful jolt came again, with no build up - just sudden and relentless. You flinched and before you were given the chance to adjust, it was gone. A smile was developing on his mouth.

“Are you having fun with your new toy, kitty?” He asked.

You opened your mouth to respond but another surge of vibrations caught you off guard, your throat momentarily clenching around any possible words. You felt it wearing at your composure, before promptly switching off. “Ye-yeah I am, I just…” You had gotten distracted from twirling the tail. “That mode feels different from when I was pressing it. Or am I just imagining it?”

“This isn't one of the patterns you were playing with. This is the burst mode.” He said and he tapped the screen, giving you a demonstration.

That was exactly what it felt like, and exactly what it made you want to do. Your heart was racing and you had begun to clench your fists as he activated the mode a few more times.

“Do you like it?” He asked, leaning forward and wearing an eager smile.

“Yeah, it’s a…” You shifted your weight from side-to-side, feeling quite unsettled as he clearly made moves to undermine your control. “It’s definitely a lot… uh, a lot of fun.”

“So much fun that you forgot to show it off to me, huh?” He pointed out, it was a gentle way of refocusing you.

“You’re right.” You said, pushing your shoulders back as you adjusted how you held the furry tail. “How would you like me to model it for you, Master?”

For the moment, he was leaving the buttons alone. “How about you get down on all fours? You can get a bit more into your kitten character, can’t you- for me?”

“Of course.” You said, lowering yourself to the ground before finishing your answer.

Even though the plug was inactive inside you, your heart was fluttering. Your knees rested on the carpet and you draped the tail behind yourself before beginning to lean forward. The way that he was looking at you (what you saw in his dark eyes) had you feeling a tremble in your thighs.

When he didn’t give you any direction, you moved as you wanted. You began to crawl toward him, where there was plenty of room for you between his legs.

“You should probably go back the other way if you want to really show me the tail.” He said, gesturing away from himself.

You didn't hesitate, reaching one of your arms out to the side and redirecting yourself. You crawled towards the wall, feeling the tail sway against your ass as you went.

You got as close as you could to the wall, stopping and looking back over your shoulder, needing more guidance from him.

“It's a perfect view, babygirl.” He said, eyes moving all over your body with great interest. “You're really great at this crawling around like a kitty thing, maybe you should stay on the floor for a bit longer. Being a fantastic kitty is fun, hm? You're just so great at it.”

“Thank you.”

“Show me how well you can crawl to me.” He said.

You did this at once. You kept your eyes on him, seeing how focused his gaze was. But there were moments when you broke eye contact, curiously looking at the protrusion in his pants and letting your mind race. There were so many things you could, and wanted to, do for him.

“Just like that, yes.” He said as you drew closer.

You were aching for his touch as you reached the end of the bed, placing yourself between his feet. You lifted your hands from the ground but remained beneath him, on your knees. You looked up at him, finding he had placed his phone aside for the moment. His hands went to your cheeks, yours went to his thighs, your nails pressing against the material of his pants.

You began to move your hands, going for the zipper. He did nothing to discourage you, instead somewhat foreshadowing your plan by giving you his thumb to suck on. You wrapped your lips around it as you got to your task.

“I hope you're not getting distracted again.” He said before you could get the button undone. “I'm not done watching you model this tail. I haven't had my fill of kitten's adventures around the floor.”

You took your hands away from him at once, perfectly happy to keep playing this game - because you knew how sensational the final destination would be.

“Show me from the side. Be a good girl and crawl along the side of the bed here.” He instructed.

“Okay.”

You gave his still-concealed dick one last look before you repositioned. You flicked the tail over to one side and returned your hands to the ground. As you started to crawl around the bottom corner of the bed, he turned around to keep track of you, not missing a second of your progress.

“Does Daddy like this view?” You asked.

He remained just as close as before, perched at the edge of the mattress. “Very, very much. Like might be an understatement.” He watched you get about halfway to the head of the bed. “Hang on, can you wait there for the moment?”

You stopped without question. You anticipated more from the plug, trying to prepare yourself for the effects of another burst. You kept your eyes on the bedside table that you were approaching. You were feeling eager, but you could still maintain your patience.

“Oh.” He said, his voice coming from behind you. “Well, you are definitely having fun with your new toy.”

A more powerful heat came into your face as you instantly realised he was referring to how wet your cunt appeared. And there was no way for you to hide it. You were totally exposed to him, every dirty need, all of your unspoken desires - it was his to use as he pleased.

“Being a good kitten really turns you on, huh?” He asked, you didn't have to be looking at him to know that he was smiling. “It turns me on, too. But you know what- I don't need you on the floor anymore.” You looked over your shoulder. “Climb up on the bed for me.”

You got up from the floor and saw that he was taking his clothes off, finally. You sat where you were, waiting for the next instruction as you watched him.

“How do you want me?” You asked.

“I was thinking face down, ass up.” He posed it as a suggestion. “I've got my fill of seeing you on the floor, but there's still more admiring of that tail I need to do.”

“Of course, Master.” You said, beginning to lay down. But you didn't rush, wanting to see more of his undressing process. He didn't correct this behaviour, moving in closer to kiss you. You took the chance to run your hands down his bare chest, your mind full of ideas.

You continued to enjoy the taste of him on your lips even after you had parted. You got into the required position, your nerves on edge as you were more than eager to experience what came next. You rested the side of your face on the pillow and separated your knees as you set them on the bed. You could feel the tail draped over one side of your elevated ass.

“Is the plug getting to be too much?” He asked as he moved in to fill the space behind you.

“Well it’s a lot, but in a good way.” You said.

“I know you’ll tell me if you need a break from it.” He said, his fingers massaging at the small of your back. “You’re always a good girl with stuff like that- my smart, responsible, capable babygirl. Is that what you are?”

“Yeah.” You said a little shyly.

“Here…” He said, placing his unlocked phone on the pillow next to your face. “You can have a play and see which modes you like best while I’m getting into position here.”

You picked it up, your eyes going to the button that activated the intense bursts, but you didn’t feel brave enough to touch it. “I think they’re all gonna feel like the best right now, I’m horny as fuck- you already know this.”

He snickered and you felt his legs pressed against yours - the distance between your bodies thankfully becoming a thing of the past. “Yeah. I know it and I love it.”

You tapped the plus symbol, driving the consistent buzzes to a greater strength. You opened up the options for different modes and selected one without overthinking it. You enjoyed the rise-and-fall in intensity, making the eagerness swell up like a tangible presence in your gut. More blood was pumping into your pussy.

You were hyper-aware of the movements he made as he began to spread your cunt open with his dick. Your eyes fluttered shut and you stopped caring about trying out the vibrator's other modes, what you currently had felt perfect to you. He leaned more of his weight into you.

“Good girl…” He said with a moan as he pushed in deeper. “You're loving having two holes filled like this, aren't you?”

“Yes.” You said, short on breath.

You shut your eyes, feeling into your body differently than before and a moment was needed to adjust. This new level was so promising.

Your walls fluttered around him as you sank into this feeling, marvelling at how the pressure in your cunt could make you pay more attention to what the plug was doing in your ass. All the while, your clitoris was throbbing and you started into that ache for release, now knowing you could fully attach yourself to it.

“Oh, my perfect fucktoy.” He praised as he moved to that spot where he could mostly fill your cunt.

Butterflies swarmed into your tummy and you were soon smiling as you released the need to think about a single thing. Instead of thinking, you were just witnessing, paying attention to the little details.

You felt his hand grab for your hip, his fingers digging into this squishy spot. Then more of his body was pressing into yours, more skin-on-skin, making you feel so ready to melt into him. The air around you was perfectly still as you waited on the knife’s edge, aroused energy rushing through your veins.

There was a hint of separation with him rocking back on his knees. Thankfully, this was promptly fixed by him thrusting forward, your cunt swallowing his length again.

His tip massaged along your sensitive walls as he indulged in some more plunges back-and-forth. You weren’t trying to match him, instead arching your back and keeping yourself steady, giving him a set, reliable target to land his pumps on.

As you were beginning to adjust to these increased threats to your composure, you opened your eyes. You found that his phone wasn’t in the spot where you had left it, it didn’t appear to be anywhere within your grasp. You didn’t get too hung up on this, your attention was driven to more important things.

You started to meet his thrusts, working your hips to match his movements and it was immediately rewarding. The pleasure greatly accelerated through your body and you felt how easy it would be to go wild - but you hadn’t been invited to do so yet. You gulped in a large breath and tried to steel yourself, one of your hands curling into a fist around the corner of the pillow.

It seemed like you were getting on the same pacing as him, truly harnessing what your body could do in this position. Then you were stunned by another use of the burst function. You froze, shoved into a state of disbelief as sparks shot through your brain, very tangible to you in this moment.

You didn’t feel the whine as it moved out of your throat. You only became aware of it when you heard it. You buried your hot face into the pillow, taking a pause to just be overwhelmed.

“Can you handle it?” He asked, his words strained to betray how his throat was clenching.

You gave a wordless cry. “Mn, it feels so good.”

“That’s not what I asked.” He said. “I wanna know if you can handle it.”

You strengthened your legs again, grinding back into him. “Yea-yeah, I can take it, I wan’... I fucking want it.”

“You’re gonna get it, because you’re such a good girl.” He told you.

There weren’t any words that followed this, the sounds that came next were made by your bodies colliding as he set into a luscious rhythm. More of your body opened up to him in response to his continued pumping.

He seemed to work himself into you with more power than before, an excited whine coming from him - the authenticity and unrestrained quality of it made it sound just as explicit as any curse words he might want to share. “I hope you’re in the mood to get it rough, because there’s no chance of me holding back when you look like-... you have no idea how good you look right now, kitten. It’s beyond, it really is. The tail looks amazing, it’s a little unbelievable how much it suits you. It’s just…”

You lifted your face from the pillow and turned your head, partially bringing him into view. “Does it make me look owned?”

You weren’t expecting the pause before his response. “Owned- uh-huh.” He let out a short chuckle. “Yeah, you’re definitely looking owned.”

That was an answer worth waiting for, tantalising you as you let it sink in. You immediately strived to commit it to memory. It was like a photo taken on a special occasion, from time-to-time you would want to pull it up and look at it to remember the moment as clearly as possible.

“Yes.” You said, keeping your impassioned rocking in time with him. “Own me, Master.”

His hips began snapping into yours faster. It pumped more excitement into your veins and you didn’t wish for more time to catch your breath, happily riding this escalation.

His dick fucking into you somehow harmonised perfectly with the sensations stirred up by the butt plug, which remained set on the same reliable level. It was all building a delicious tension inside of you, the vibrations keeping you elevated and always anticipating his next jerk. And when those jerks came, they sent spectacular sparks shooting through your whole system, holding the potential to disorientate you.

Your clitoral hood felt swollen, so much so that your focus kept getting pulled back to it. The nerves in that concentrated area were very reactive and there was blood so consistently pumping through it, making it ache. The hood was just one of the many parts of your body that made up the choir that was screaming for your ultimate release.

When his next plunge forward delivered his tip to your g-spot, your eyes momentarily rolled back. You wanted to melt more than before, a stunning wave rushing through you. At the same time, your cunt clenched onto him, as if this was the key to keeping him in this spot.

“Oh fuck, fuckfuck…” He gasped, rocking back with a quiver.

You were greedy, leaning back for more contact. His tip stroked against your sensitive walls, making you more aware of that tension inside of you.

He didn't leave you waiting for long, mercifully. He rutted firmly into you, skin slapping against skin and you were soon gripping to the pillow as he reclaimed his momentum.

It was just as impactful, but his movements didn't come in as consistently. His energy was a little less predictable and you couldn't match yourself perfectly to him. But there was still plenty to enjoy, you didn't find yourself short on stimulation. You lived for the friction between your bodies. You just kept snapping your hips back into him, knowing that you were on the right path to an orgasm.

He had both of his hands on your hips, the phone lost from the scene presently, but the plug kept vibrating.

“Oh, oh…” He moaned, sounding a little surprised. “I’m close, already. Oh, holy…”

His body made quick, repeated smacks into you. As you poised yourself to feel his cum shooting into you, you held the knowledge that his focus was being compromised by his excitement. On some thrusts he could collide with your sweet spot, but he wasn’t specifically aiming for this. In the pursuit of his climax, his goal was just to maintain motion and you worked to stick with him, not wanting to let him down at this final point.

“Ah, kitty, fuck, I’m fuckin’ gun-ah…” His strokes got shorter, coming in rapidly.

He surrendered to the release, swinging deep to unload into you. There was no rocking back, he stayed where he was, letting his conclusion play out. You felt the cum drenching your receptive walls, which were fluttering and keenly gripping to him.

“Oh, holy fuck.” He sighed, starting to slowly lean back. “That was-... I didn’t know I was gonna come that quick.” He let out a breathless laugh. “You just felt too damn good.”

You lifted your head, glancing back at him. “Thank you for that compliment.”

“I’m just gonna…” He said, leaving your cunt. “Are you happy to keep that plug in?”

You wiggled your butt in the air, still filled with so much eager energy. “Mmn, more than happy.”

He stroked his hand up-and-down your back. “You’ve been such a good girl, a really, really good girl. Now I’m gonna take care of you, okay?”

“Yep.”

You were glad when you felt him move in closer again. He didn’t penetrate you, but it was lovely to feel the warmth of his body some more as he wrapped an arm around your middle. He was leaning into you, without pushing all of his body weight into you. He rested the palm of his hand against your pubic mound, while his other hand was seemingly missing in action.

You quickly realised where his other hand was when the toy gave a powerful burst. Your breath got stuck in your throat as you were completely taken by surprise. The excitement swelled up, desire ready to take the lead.

As the intense sensation started to play out, he placed his hand directly to your pussy, one of his fingers going to your pulsing clit. The muscles in your body clenched. You were feeling everything on such a deep level, the core of your being ready to respond.

Before you could adjust to this new level of stimulation, he was giving you another burst. And it took you a little longer to recover from this.

It felt like there was fire coursing through your veins when he began to work his finger on your clitoris. He slowly dragged his finger up-and-down against it, prompting you to see stars behind your eyelids.

He set into an easy pacing with how he rubbed your clit, steadily adding to the ecstatic arousal. You started to match his motion, rocking your hips back-and-forth. This allowed you to secure more pressure on your clitoral hood, a perfect crescendo that signified the end of each swing. He didn’t tell you to stop, seemingly finding nothing about your current movements to correct and you took this as permission to concentrate on your continued effort.

The vibrations changed, but he wasn’t unleashing more bursts upon you. This time he had activated one of the patterns, the strength of the pulsations rose-and-fell in a way that felt very gentle after so many jolts from the burst option. It didn’t urge you into a rushed new pace, you could still enjoy each rock of your hips.

He worked your clit with continuous circles, inviting in more hot excitement. Was he applying more pressure, or were you just getting more, irreparably sensitive?

“Have I mentioned that I fucking love my tail, Daddy?” You said, your words somewhat muffled as you kept your face buried in the pillow.

“Aw, I’m really happy to hear that.” He said. “You’ve more than earned this gift.”

He increased the plug’s strength, making the programmed peaks feel all the more significant. There wasn’t any chance of you successfully hiding your neediness from him. Your thrusts lost their smoothness as more of your composure trickled away. You just wanted more, more of that enticing tension.

You let out a happy whine as you felt yourself reaching the spectacular edge. There were more stars in your vision now. You jutted your hips forward faster as the vibrators pulsations encouraged you deeper into the pleasure, which was getting to fever pitch.

“Uh, uh, unf…” Your whimpers accompanied your reckless rutting as you started to get lost in these truly overwhelming sensations.

His rubbing on your clitoris became vigorous, making sure you didn’t know even a fraction of a second of peace. “Come for Daddy, come for your Daddy, right now.”

“Yea-yes…” You rasped as you twitched and trembled through your next series of thrusts.

“Come for Daddy.”

His words seemed to echo in your head as you surrendered into the intense rush. The tension snapped and you disappeared into your climax.

You thought it was the ideal time to quit and find your way back to calm. But you soon realised that he had different plans.

He didn’t extract the toy from your hole as you began lying down in a more natural position. He turned the neverending pattern off, but this was swiftly followed by an activation of the burst mode. You gave a little cry, but beyond that you were unable to respond - you certainly didn’t have any words to share.

He wasn’t speaking either. But you attempted to stay mentally aware of where he was - trying to predict moves he may not have decided on yet.

More bursts came from the plug, shooting intimidating aftershocks through you. You didn’t know how much time passed between them. You remained constantly startled by them, you were positioned on very shaky ground, he had expertly weakened you.

“Good girl.” He said in the warmest of tones.

You got some much needed air back into your lungs. As you were taking more deep breaths, you recognised that you had been in a noticeable break from the exciting bursts. With coherent thoughts coming together now, you started to wonder if he had stopped playing with the app. You kept just taking in deep breaths for the moment.

Feeling a fraction of your strength returning, you began by opening your eyes. You slowly lifted your head, seeing that he was at your side, close enough to easily touch. You checked his hands, relieved to find a lack of phone in his grasp.

Now it was time to quit.

Your body felt very tender (as if you had just pushed through a yoga class too advanced for you). You savoured lying still. You let your eyes shut, feeling the occasional twitch and tremble in each of your holes - but you were getting closer to calm.

“How do you feel?” He asked, giving you a respectful amount of space as you moved into recovery.

“You mean: how’s my ass?” You responded, winning a smile from him.

“Amongst other things, yes.” He said. “Would it be okay if I took the plug out, or are you feeling too sensitive to have it touched?”

“Could you take it out?” You requested.

“Of course. Keep taking deep breaths for me, babygirl.” He said, easing in closer to you. “While I’m doing that, you can take a look at your menu.”

“I don’t need it.” You said before he could reach for the homemade pamphlet. “I already know what I want.”

“Oh, well please tell me all about it.”

He worked as carefully as possible, but your overly-sensitive hole was aware of each slight movement. You bit into your lower lip as a keen heat remained below your waist.

“I want cuddles.” You said. “And more words of praise.” You let out a shaky breath as all of the pressure finally left your hole.

“I’ll give you hours of praise.” He said.

“And could we watch TV? I’ve been saving up the new episodes of Futurama to watch with you.” You said, looking at him from your lower, reclined position.

“Cartoons and cuddling with the best girl in the whole world- that’s a reward for me, too.” He said. “Just let me put this aside in the bathroom. I’ll get to cleaning it, later.”

He had the tail in hand as he got up, leaving the room. You didn’t have the energy to rush into a new position, taking each movement one at a time. As you laid on your back, you gave a slight adjustment to how the kitten mask was resting against your face. You weren’t willing to take it off yourself.

He took a little longer coming back into the room than you had expected. You got the television turned on, the right episode queued up.

“I wanted juice.” He said as he returned. “So I got you a glass, too.”

“Thanks.” You said, sitting up straighter.

He placed both cups down as he joined you on the bed. “You don’t have to keep the mask on. If you want to, but I won’t make you.”

“Okay.” You said reaching for the knot at the back of your head.

Seemingly he forgot about his thirst, watching you with interest in your every move. There was a smile on his face, making you wonder what he was thinking.

“You really just thrived in that scene, huh?” He asked. “You totally got into character and you did it more perfectly than I could have imagined. And I’m not just saying this because you asked for praise. I’m saying this because you amaze me. You’re so fantastic at being a submissive and you make it so much fun to play, it makes me wanna play with you more, so much fucking more.” His tone changed, perhaps in response to what he saw on your face. “But not right now. We’re gonna rest right now.”

You accepted the cup that he handed you, “How come you hesitated?”

He furrowed his brow. “I hesitated?”

“Yeah, earlier. I asked if I looked owned and you didn’t answer straight away. You answered and I liked the answer, but… did you not like the question? We don’t have to use that term…”

He smiled, tucking his legs in under the blanket. “No, I have no issues with saying you’re owned. I had to hesitate because I had heard you wrong, and I thought…” He trailed off, needing a moment to just laugh. “I thought you had said pwned.”

“Pwned?” You repeated, doing your best to not mangle the old-school term. He nodded, unable to speak because he had resumed laughing. “Why the fuck would I say pwned?”

He shrugged, his laughter not completely under control. “I have no idea. That’s why I hesitated because I was trying to figure it out, trying and failing.”

You smiled as you shook your head. “But seriously, why would I ever say that?”

“I don’t know, I was very confused.” He said.

“Am I a chronically online gamer from the late 2000’s?” You asked.

“You can’t blame me for being confused, all of my blood was going to my dick, not my brain.”

You let out an overdramatic groan. “Ugh, that’s your excuse for everything.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

🍑 taglist: @gr8rainbowpunk - @idyllicbutterfly - @maneskindiva - @maneslut - @saschenkaaa - @slavicgoddess13 - @elvirabelle - @maneskintifoso - @thegeminisgirl - @ha-la-ansia - @butkutee - @ursulalurks - @itsmaneskinbitch - @icarodamiano - @floral-recs - @crwnnjules - @paralianeyes - @fand0mskullfa1ry - @lizzylynch1 - @kammerstx - @myleftsock - @tellmesomething01 - @adoredamianos - @vittoriaisfuckingpathetic - @gay-for-victoria-de-angelis - @shinshans - @lonnybunnys - @lyricalliz - @lifeofa-fangirl [join here!]

#its not foreplay its fiveplay!#maneskin x reader #maneskin fanfiction #maneskin smut #maneskin fic #manesmut #damiano david fic #dom dami corruption fic

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iwritefandomimagines · 1 year

Text

SECRET’S OUT

masterlist

→ pairing: graham dunne x reader

→ description: you and graham have been secretly dating for months now, having decided it was better to keep things between you guys for now. one moonlit night and a love song were all about to change that.

→ warnings: a little swearing, fluffiness galore

Graham had been nervous all day — leg tapping constantly, all short sentences and quiet hums in response to every word that anyone had to say.

You’d have been concerned, if not for the fact that Billy had mentioned something about him wanting to show the band a song he’d written.

He seemed to spend a lot of time writing songs since he’d met you — but he never showed anyone. Not even you.

But this song he was particularly proud of.

You had been secretly dating for months now, and a matter of days ago you had made a moonlit confession of just how deeply you had fallen in love with him in that time.

Of course, he was head over heels for you too. Hearing you say it first, though, was something he didn’t think he would ever get over. You, Y/N Y/L/N, loved him, Graham Dunne. He wouldn’t ever get tired of thinking of the moment you first said it.

The days since had been blissful, but had made it all the more difficult to keep things between you a secret from all of your best friends.

You weren’t sure how nobody had noticed what was going on between you anyway, given how tactile you were with Graham and how much time you spent together. But the whole band were so wrapped up in their own shit that you sort of understood.

The night you told him you loved him — leaned against the tour bus with the glimmer of the moon in your eyes and your windswept hair blowing in the evening wind, he’d waited until you fell asleep (flush against his chest on the bus couches, meaning he had to carry you to bed as he so loved doing) and put pen to paper to immortalise an evening he’d never forget.

And now he’d marched into rehearsal determined to show off the song, without a single thought for the consequences of sharing what was so blatantly a love song about a partner nobody knew he had.

“Dude, that was fucking awesome,” Warren gawped, standing up from where he’d been perched to slap Graham across the shoulder as he finished the song.

But Graham was only looking at you — trying to gauge your reaction to the lyrics that were so clearly laced with every feeling he’d felt for you throughout your relationship.

You were silent, crimson-cheeked and grinning from ear to ear as you caught his intense gaze. God, you were so fucking in love with that man.

“It was, but are we going to talk about who the fuck it’s about?” Eddie interjected, crossing his arms, “You don’t even get laid, and now you’re writing like you’ve met the love of your life or some shit?”

It was then that you heard Karen scoff, “Because he has, dipshit.”

The whole room turned to look at her confusedly, you and Graham included, as she chuckled to herself and locked eyes with you.

It was like a switch flipped, and you practically flew to your feet towards your boyfriend.

Your hands tangled themselves in his curls as you pulled his face towards you, kissing him with such passion that for a moment he was too taken aback to respond.

But within no time he swung his guitar on its strap to sit behind his back instead, his hands cupping your cheeks as he kissed you back.

“What the hell?”

“Y/N?”

“Niceeee.”

“Look, I know there’s been a lot going on. But if you haven’t seen — or heard — him and Y/N then you must be crazy,” Karen laughed, paying no mind to you making out, “I know they think they’ve been super secretive, but it’s clear as day how they feel.”

Everyone else buzzed with excitement and confusion as they pondered how the hell they didn’t notice.

“Alright, alright,” Eddie called over to you after a short while, “We get it, you do get laid.”

Karen bit her tongue, though she really wanted to make a comment about the very clear crush Eddie had on you that was to blame for the bitterness lacing his words.

“How long has this been going on?” Billy asked, a warm smile on his face at the notion that his brother had found happiness with someone he really trusted not to break his heart.

You pulled back, resting your hands on Graham’s shoulder and then perching your chin atop them as you looked around.

“A few months now,” you beamed, “We wanted to keep it a secret to start with but… Well, I don’t think I could do that much longer anyway.”

Graham dipped his head to kiss your forehead softly, “So you can keep your eyes to yourself now, yeah Eddie?”

Eddie rolled his eyes, lifting his hands in defeat, “Ouch, man.”

You lightly nudged your boyfriend, flushing red again at them addressing Eddie’s crush on you.

“Anyway, if that song isn’t on the album I’m going to be furious,” you hummed, moving the conversation away, “Genuinely furious.”

“Don’t worry, babe,” Graham singsonged, confident with the reaction he’d gotten, “I think it’ll be on the album.”

You leaned up with a smile, whispering a small “I love you,” in his ear. He tightened his grip on your waist as you pressed a kiss to his temple in appreciation.

“I love you too,” he kissed your jaw, pulling back with a smile as he saw Eddie fake gag out of the corner of his eye.

“Jesus Christ.”

“I’m going to get out of your hair now,” you giggled, pulling away from Graham’s grip and twirling towards the door, “Let you guys get on with it. I’ll see you all later.”

Graham fake pouted, following you out of the door for a moment to say goodbye and ignoring Warren’s teasing comment about him being obsessed.

“Thank you, Graham,” you practically sung as he took you in his arms again, leaning you against the hallway wall, “It’s… The song was beautiful. I love it. And I’m glad everything’s out in the open. Secret’s out!”

Graham nodded, kissing your forehead, then your lips, “I love you. And me too, even if Eddie’s jealous as fuck and the others don’t like the public displays of affection.”

With a laugh, you pulled out of his grip again. You kissed him once more as you leaned away, “Maybe we will have to tone that down.”

“I’ve had to pretend you’re not mine for months,” he shook his head, “No way am I hiding it now.”

He captured your waist with both hands and pressed his lips to yours one actual final time, turning to head back to the studio.

“Yeah, you’re right,” you grinned, “They’ll get over it.”

———

this was requested so i hope it lives up to what you wanted !! i’m not super happy with it but i got major writers block part way through but refused to give up !

feel free to request more, the more ideas i get the less i struggle to write :-) in the meantime here is my masterlist

#graham dunne imagine #graham dunne #graham dunne x reader #graham dunne x you #graham dunne fluff #daisy jones #daisy jones and the six #daisy jones imagines #djats #eddie roundtree #eddie loving

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ficsilike-reblogged · 2 years

Text

Snow Over Hawkins

A/N: Another holiday fic? From me, after not posting in months? Who would've thought. I hope you all have a wonderful holiday or simply a peaceful winter! Thank you for reading! This jumps between 1996 and 1986 (the events of S4). Reader does celebrate Christmas in this and there is a lot of Christmas imagery. Also, I make Eddie a rockstar. Because it is what he deserves. :)

Pairing: Eddie Munson/F!Reader

Rating: PG-A soft little, melodramatic thing

Word Count: 10.4k

Summary: Perhaps coming to your ten year high school reunion was a mistake. But, as a blizzard rolls in just in time for the holidays, you may have to confront a specter from your past: Eddie Munson.

**1996**

Oh no.

There were too many people. Maybe if you just…turned right around and left, no one would know you had even come and-

A shout of your name quickly quashed that plan but your shoulders fell a fraction from around your ears as you spotted Robin weaving her way through the crowd to get to you. She was quick to throw her arms around you in a tight hug as if she hadn’t just seen you when she dropped you off at the hotel an hour ago and you two didn’t have a standing agreement to get together every two weeks at the little café down the street from your apartment in New York.

“God. Why did we come here?” She mumbled into your hair before pulling back.

“You were the one who said we should rub it in everyone’s faces that we are rich and successful and they peaked in high school.”

Robin groaned. “Must you remember everything I said?”

“I must.” You sighed and glanced over her shoulder at the milling crowd. The gigantic Christmas trees were bleeding green and red lights all over the large space. The event center for the reunion was an abject holiday wonderland, complete with fake flickering candles and artificial snow. Christmas songs were playing over the speakers, muted beneath the conversation between old classmates. Even the sign that read, “Welcome back, Tigers! Class of ‘86!” was made of red and green paper. “Nancy said she and Jonathan would be here, too. Have you seen them? Their flight left before ours.”

“Not yet. But you know who I have seen?” There was a conspiratorial gleam in her eye that had you frowning.

Before she could answer, someone darted by you with a squealed, “oh my god, I can’t believe it! I thought they were on tour!”

Your heart dropped to your feet. “Robin-”

“Nothing has to happen. He just happens to be in the same room as you for the first time in over ten years and-”

“And it changes nothing. He’s still…” The words trailed off as you dropped your chin to your chest. Robin rubbed a hand on your arm with a hum, she was always tactile with you, knowing when you most needed a friendly touch. “Pathetic, right? Ten years and thousands of miles and he still makes me feel like a little girl with an unreciprocated crush.”

“It has always been more than that.”

You winced. “That doesn’t help, Robs.”

She linked her arm with yours and started tugging you toward the table set up with hot chocolate and all the fixings, dodging a hulking pair of men in ill-fitting suits who you were sure never went to Hawkins High. Someone had been “kind” enough to leave little bottles of alcohol in a messy pile, too, so anyone could spike their own drink if wanted.

A glance back at the crowd nearly had your heart stuttering, already bruised. A headful of dark curls and warm eyes immediately caught your attention and suddenly you were a teenager again. Turning your head away felt like a herculean effort and you reached for one of the small bottles of whiskey and dumped it into your cup.

**1986**

Your head was spinning. There were monsters in Hawkins. …or not in Hawkins, but in a different dimension that you were currently trapped in. Running the school paper with Nancy was supposed to be a safe extracurricular activity—something to bolster your applications to your dream university. But after watching Fred fucking

levitate

and hearing his bones snap under the power of something unseen, you were sure it was one of the worst decisions you’d ever made. And now you were here after jumping out of the boat, your hand in Nancy’s. At least now you know why Robin and Steve had been extra cagey about the mall fire over the summer.

“You’re bleeding a bit,” Eddie said, crouching near you as you huddled beneath Skull Rock.

“What?” Your voice was hoarse from all the screaming you’d just done, arms aching from beating the damn bat creatures with a broken oar.

Eddie said nothing as he tore at his shirt and then pressed it to your temple, wincing alongside you. “Sorry, sorry. Just didn’t think you’d want a bleeding head wound in a place like this.”

You almost snorted. And it was probably the head wound and the adrenaline coursing through your system but your tongue didn’t tangle as it so often did around Eddie. “Oh? You come here often?”

Eddie’s cheeks bloomed with color, visible even under the grime. “Oh, c’mon. Can’t have a pretty girl bleeding.”

**1996**

“Gimme a sip of that,” Nancy said instead of a greeting as she stormed to your side. She took a hearty swig of your spiked hot chocolate and nearly spat it out. “What did you put in that?”

“Whiskey.”

“Jesus!” She wiped at her mouth, eyes watering.

Jonathan was a few paces behind her, wrapping his arms around you in a quick hug before doing the same to Robin. “Seems to be quite the turnout even with the storm rolling in.”

“Imagine if we all get snowed in. Trapped with all these people,�� Robin said, dread dripping from every syllable.

“I’ll walk back to my parents’ house in the snow. I don’t care,” Nancy said, only relaxing when Jonathan stepped to her back and wrapped an arm over her shoulders.

“Tough day?”

“My editor called and said he wanted a rewrite by midnight for this article-”

“You got it done,” Jonathan quietly murmured.

“But I shouldn’t’ve had to do it at all! No one else’s articles get that kind of treatment. Goddamn Greg can write a puff piece about when to watch the cherry blossoms in each borough and use the wrong ‘there’ but he doesn’t even get a sternly worded email.”

You and Robin wore matching winces and hid behind your hot chocolate. “Didn’t you say The Economist was trying to poach you after your big editorial about that governor?”

Nancy nodded and sunk a little further into Jonathan’s grip. Her engagement ring sparkled in the twinkling lights. Their long-awaited engagement party just a few blocks from your apartment had been hosted a handful of months ago where you’d readily accepted Nancy’s invitation to be a bridesmaid. It certainly took them long enough. “And I’m considering it. But we’d have to move to London.”

Another twittering laugh drew all of your attentions and you saw Eddie stand and wrap and arm around someone you vaguely recognized as someone from the debate team as another person took a picture, the flash of their disposable camera nearly blinding even across the room.

Nancy’s blue eyes quickly zeroed in on you. “Have you talked to him?”

“No. He’s surrounded. Has been all night. I don’t want to be…that girl, anyway. Probably doesn’t even remember me.”

**1986**

“Look, I’m all for you, like, actually telling Eddie how you feel but maybe you could think of a more romantic setting for all this?” Robin nearly hissed as you continued on through the rotted forest of the Upside Down.

“What are you talking about?”

“You are making googly eyes at him—and he’s reciprocating! That guy hasn’t taken his eyes off you once since you beat that bat to death.”

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s what really gets him going, Robs. Sure. Keep your voice down!” You grumbled in return, trying to ignore the heat in your chest.

You’d had a crush on Eddie since last year when you were paired up in History for your final project. Your sessions in the school library had become the highlight of your week pretty quickly after you realized how kind and funny he was, how brown his eyes were, and how they really sparkled whenever he spoke of something he was passionate about (which was never history, but you would let it slide because you loved his smile). You didn’t even mind that he gently teased you about your favorite song, Flaco’s “Rock Me Amadeus” and promised to “teach you about real music.” After passing the final project with flying colors, Eddie had gifted you a mixtape with a shy smile and pink cheeks “Just to say ‘thanks,’ you know, for helping me pass. I might not graduate this year, but I don’t have to repeat this class again and that was all because of you. But here’s your first lesson on real music, Amadeus.” Before you could say anything, he kissed your cheek and turned away, letting you get swallowed by the moving bodies of the hallway. And Robin, who you’d befriended while working at the mall over the summer (you worked at the lingerie store right next to Scoops Ahoy) had been your first confidante about your feelings. Steve, bless him, had guessed correctly after you came into the ice cream shop moping one Wednesday after you’d watched Eddie flirt with the bartender (again) at The Hideout during a Corroded Coffin gig. And then he was offering his “advice,” too, and telling you that your secret was safe with him, even if he didn’t really understand your feelings for “The Freak.” At all.

The feelings that hadn’t faded for over a year.

Steve and Robin hadn’t judged you, as so many others would, and you had earned Robin’s secret in return, an easy friendship blossoming right before the mall burnt down. As your senior year started and you once again found yourself at Eddie’s side more often than not in the hallways and shared classes and your easy comradery with the three-peat senior developed into inside jokes and more mixtapes disguised as ‘lessons,’ Robin and Steve had always encouraged you to at least try. And you never did. You’d rather have him as a friend than nothing at all. And he was…he was your friend. A good friend who always smiled at you from the stage at The Hideout, who seemed to actually do his homework when you jokingly said you wouldn’t hug him anymore, who always made you smile when you had a shit day. Confiding in each other about your shitty parents (his were felons, yours were drug addicts) and then being raised by others had been another thing that bonded you. You had your aging grandparents and Eddie had Wayne but you both knew that it was different. Always. He’d hold your hand when you cried about feeling like you were missing something and you always told he’d amount to more than his parents when he struggled, too. You were there for each other in ways your other friends couldn’t understand. And that almost made it worse.

“All I’m saying is that he is obviously into you. Like a lot. But maybe wait until we aren’t in the sixth circle of hell to act on it.”

“This isn’t the sixth circle…this would be, like, the tenth. I think.”

Robin smacked the back of her hand into your arm with a pointed look “You’re avoiding the topic.”

“I’m avoiding nothing except these stupid vines!”

Eddie jogged to your side with a tired smile. “Hey, think we’re getting close to the Wheeler house?”

You nodded and glanced ahead where Nancy was leading the way, ignoring how Robin pinched at your side. A quiet shout of Robin’s name had you all turning and Steve was waving her back to his side and she darted away, leaving you alone with Eddie. Heat bloomed in your chest as he smiled at you, as it always did. A comforting warmth like settling in front of a roaring fireplace on a cold winter’s night.

Eddie knocked his shoulder into yours as you all continued on, another smile on his face. Only Eddie would be able to smile in a place like this. “You know, I’m glad you’re here with me in all of this.”

And now you had to smile, too, despite everything. “In the Upside Down?”

He blushed and stuttered something unintelligible before knocking his shoulder into yours again, pulling a quiet laugh from you. “Yeah, next time we have to fight monsters, I’ll make sure we’re at Enzo’s.”

“It’s a date.” As soon as the words left your mouth, you wanted to shove them back down your throat. Dammit. “I mean, you know, not a date, but yeah, we can keep fighting monsters together.” You winced at your messy jumble of words. Great. “I’m…For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re here with me, too.”

**1996**

“What do you mean you didn’t listen to any of their music?” Robin asked, taking your hot chocolate away from you.

“I tried! But then he started singing about this person’s pretty eyes and wanting them to leave lipstick stains on his throat and I turned it off.” You sounded like a petulant child but you couldn’t help it. Hearing about how Eddie wanted something like that with someone who obviously wasn’t you hurt. It ached like a dull knife twisting between your ribs. The years hadn’t lessened the pain at all.

Robin and Nancy looked at each other, some silent communication that had you gritting your teeth. And then Jonathan patted your shoulder like you were some sort of idiot. “You really should have listened to it.”

“It wouldn’t change anything,” you muttered. “It has been ten years. Look at him.” Waving a hand at the ever growing crowd around Eddie, you tried to ignore the burn of tears at the back of your eyes. “He is a rock star. How many Grammy’s does he have?” (You knew he had two.)

Despite avoiding listening to any of his music, you had watched his meteoric rise to fame with a bittersweet happiness. It was what he deserved after everything. Being accused and then cleared of murder actually seemed to bolster his image as a rock god and helped Corroded Coffin land their first record deal. There was always a quip about it in every magazine or gossip rag that interviewed him or ran an article with his face at the center. It was part of his “mystique” as one journalist called it.

And the town that had always hated him now celebrated his success as their own. There were former football players and cheerleaders waiting their turn to get his autograph or take a picture with him, arm slung over his shoulder as if they were old friends. As if they hadn’t tried to hunt him down after Jason fucking Carver branded him a vessel for Satan. The lights caught on his hair, shining and soft, and a little shorter than it had been in school. Red then green then red again. Still so handsome. Even more so now, with a bit of stubble lining his jaw. He’d always be handsome, wouldn’t he?

Just as Bing Crosby started to croon, a woman with an orange tan stepped onto the small stage and tapped the microphone. “Hi everyone! My name is Tina-”

“We’d never forget you, Tina!” Someone shouted from the middle of the crowd.

She laughed and the microphone protested, screeching with feedback for a moment. “Well, as head of the Hawkins Alumni association, I welcome you all back to Hawkins. Can you believe it’s been ten years?”

As she prattled on, you and your friends grabbed seats at a table toward the back. She started to go through a slideshow of pictures from your senior year, taking an overly dramatic pause “in remembrance” for “Jason’s” victims and everyone else who died or was injured during the earthquake. Nancy’s foot knocked into yours beneath the table and you both rolled your eyes as Tina wiped a tear from her eye. Then, to your horror, she clicked onto the next slide that was a picture of you, holding Eddie’s leather jacket, exiting the hospital covered in bruises and blood and the grime of the Upside Down and patched up like a terrible pantomime of healthcare.

“But we have always been a class of survivors!” She continued on, speaking about the “tragedies” that befell Hawkins as if she knew anything about them. It was all a dull roar in your ears as she clicked through a few more pictures of the town being rebuilt. She’d just glossed over one of the worst days of your life as if it was nothing. Just another picture for her welcome speech.

“I need some air.”

Nancy squeezed your arm as you stood, slipping out of the room without a look back.

**1986**

You handed Dustin his nail-riddled shield and watched him and Eddie pretend to block invisible enemies, laughing with each other. You wanted to join in. Wanted to laugh and revel in being alive a little longer but the sinking feeling in your gut kept you from doing anything other than continuing to batter nails in through a trashcan lid and hope it would be enough.

Would it be enough?

Even if you all lived through this, would the alibi you and Nancy cooked up to cover for Eddie be enough? It was already set in motion when the police had questioned you after Fred’s death and you made no mention of Eddie, but would they believe you?

“Hey.”

You looked up, fingers curled painfully around the hammer, to see Eddie standing in front of you. The dying sunlight framed him, casting an ethereal glow around him and piercing your chest. Beautiful.

He moved to sit on the carton beside you, knee bumping yours as he swiveled toward you. “Gonna tell me what’s going on in that beautiful brain of yours, Amadeus, or should I guess?”

Despite everything, you felt your lips curling up the slightest bit at the sound of the ridiculous nickname. “Guess.”

He hummed, stroking his chin with a dramatic flair. “You’re wondering if I have any weed on me and the answer is yes.” Then he pulled a (decidedly damp) baggie from the pocket of his jacket and dropped it onto your lap. “I wouldn’t smoke that though. I’m not entirely sure what lake water and…those spore things have done to it.”

You tossed the bag back to him and he almost caught it. “Try again.”

And so, he tried again and again, his guesses getting more ridiculous as the time passed until you were giggling, heart a little lighter and the final shield finished.

“Would the fair maiden take pity on her poor jester and tell him what made her so sad?” He asked, his warm hand curling over your knee and squeezing twice.

Tears stung your eyes as you shook your head. “Just worried, ‘s all. Worried about Max. Worried about Robin. Worried about Nancy. Worried about Dustin. Worried about Lucas. Worried about Steve. The only person I’m not worried about is Erica—she’s going to rule the world one day, I know it.”

“Worried about me?”

And that just about broke you. “’Course I’m worried about you, Eddie. I’m always worried about you. Even without Jason and Vecna looming over everything, of course I worry about you.”

He squeezed at your knee again until you looked at him and then he was reaching out to cup your face, thumbs gently swiping against the slope of your cheeks. “Always, huh?” His grip didn’t falter even as you nodded. “Well, it sounds like you have enough to worry about, don’t need to add me to your list.”

“Eddie-”

“Hey.” Gently, he angled your face up so he could look at you properly, dark eyes staring into yours. “I promise you, I’m going to be fine. And you are, too. All of us are getting out of this.”

“Promise?” You whispered, the syllables cracking in your throat as your shaking hand covered his.

Eddie leaned forward to press his forehead to yours, your eyes fluttering shut. “I promise.”

**1996**

One look out the window let you know that this snowstorm was probably one for the history books. Giant white flakes were falling in a rush from the dark sky, already sticking to the sidewalks and hazing the light of the lampposts. The outdoor Christmas trees just a few feet outside the window were nearly covered, too, the snow making their lights glow like candles. It was pretty. Sure, you’d grown accustomed to the holidays in New York, but snow in Hawkins during the holidays? Almost nothing could beat it.

Nat King Cole’s voice echoed down the hall, providing a soft melody to the quiet moment, and nearly had your wounded heart calming. Nearly.

The door opening behind you pulled a sigh from your throat, expecting to hear one of your friends call out to you. Instead you heard a loud giggle and the tapping of heels against the linoleum tiles, steps unsteady and uneven. Nancy knew how to sprint in heels and Robin didn’t own anything other than sneakers and brightly colored flats so it wasn’t them-

“-can’t believe how she just got up and left!”

“I know! So rude!”

While obviously drunk, the women who probably called you names in high school for being a little socially awkward and not having the newest clothes, were not high on your list of potential “catch-ups.”

God. Why did you even come here? All the people you wanted to keep in touch with from high school, you already did. You had a small group of them in New York and you had scheduled phone calls with Steve and the kids, too. You didn’t need to come here. You definitely should not have.

But it didn’t matter now anyway. As the voices grew louder, you skittered further down the hall and wrenched open the nearest door and all but threw yourself inside, leaving the door open just enough to let a bit of light in, waiting to hear the women pass. You nearly stepped onto a tangle garland as you slunk into the shadows. The closet was filled with extra decorations. Stockings, wreaths, and tangled bundles of lights lined the shelves and had you flinching as something snapped beneath your shoe.

“Oh, but did you see Eddie?” One of the women asked. You immediately hated her tone. It sounded like something you’d accidentally come across late at night, when a few of the channels played more risqué films.

“How could I miss him?” There was a strange noise, it almost sounded like groan. Was it supposed to be a moan? “If I had known he’d be a rock star and looked like that, I wouldn’t have called him a freak in high school.”

“Oh, shut up Carol, yes you would’ve! Probably just not to his face!”

Their answering cackles echoed down the hall and you grimaced behind the door—the one small victory was that they seemed to be walking away from you, rather than toward. Still, you didn’t understand how people could still be so needlessly cruel. Eddie had always been handsome. Always. And he’d never been a freak. He just liked his roleplaying game and making his music. Sure, he was outspoken and a little abrasive to some…but he was a good man. He had always been a good man.

And those women obviously learned nothing from how they’d treated him in high school.

Your forehead knocked against the door as you continued to hold it barely open, and you tried to suck in a steadying breath. You never should have come. Even without talking to him, Eddie was still looming like some sort of Ghost of Christmas Past.

You sounded pathetic, didn’t you? It had been ten years since you’d parted ways and lived separate lives. You were one of the curators up at the Met in New York; your dream job in a vibrant city. You were paid well and had an ironclad support system with your friends. But Eddie still ached, a pain with a beautiful face. Wasn’t it time you moved on?

Yes. It had to be. (But how many times had you told yourself that?)

Straightening your shoulders, you moved to open the door only to have the knob ripped out of your hand as the door was thrown open and then you were all but shoved into a stack of wreaths and the door shut with a sharp snap.

“Jesus!” You nearly shouted, scrambling to stay upright in the dark and only mildly succeeding, your palm slapping against a shelf and toppling a neat stack of ribbons.

“Oh shit. Sorry!” A familiar voice answered and your heart leapt.

In the dim light of the closet, you recognized the curls and the soft cut of his jaw. “Eddie?”

**1986**

“Don’t try to be cute.” Steve’s warning only made you roll your eyes, pushing at him to rejoin Nancy and Robin.

“You’re the one who managed to accessorize before going into battle, Harrington. You’re cute enough for the both of us.”

Steve huffed and tugged at your wrist to press a hard kiss to your forehead. “Take care of Dustin, okay? Take care of both of them.”

“I will. Take care of my girls, too.”

“Hey, Steve?” You both turned at the sound of Eddie’s voice to see him take a few steps forward, mouth set in a firm line. “Make him pay.”

Steve nodded, intentions clear. But, just before he turned back toward Nancy and Robin, he reached for you again. “Tell him. Tell him and fight like hell so you can actually do something about it.”

And god…you wanted to scoff, tell him that now as definitely not the time for confessions of any kind. You were trying to stay alive! But you couldn’t scoff. Couldn’t roll your eyes. All you could do was tap at his chest with a grimace you hoped looked like a smile. “Stay safe, Steve. Come back. All of you. We’ll see you on the other side.”

Then, he was jogging back to the others while you turned to see Eddie and Dustin waiting for you. And their hopeful smiles were a knife between your ribs. “Let’s get this started, okay?” You said, clapping your hands together. As you busied yourself with trying to fortify the Upside Down version of the Munson trailer, you tried to tell yourself that this was going to be fine. Everything was going to be fine. In a few hours, you could walk into the police station, clear Eddie’s name and no one would realize how close you all came to apocalypse.

But it didn’t feel right. Didn’t feel…safe.

“Hey…”

You nearly jumped out of your skin when a warm hand closed over yours, halting your attempt to screw in a bit of sheet metal over a window. Your next breath wheezed out of you as you looked into Eddie’s molten brown eyes. “Eddie.”

“You okay?”

“I’m, yeah, I’m fine. As fine as we can be, about to provide an absolutely insane distraction so our friends can kill an interdimensional super villain. Yeah. Fine.”

Eddie stepped a bit closer, gentle hands sliding up your arms to cup around the back of your neck, pulling you closer to rest his forehead against yours again. “I made you a promise, didn’t I? We are going to be fine.”

You could tell him right now. Just open your mouth and say it. But the words turned to molasses at the back of your throat and you could only nod, tugging at the bottom of his vest and zipping it up properly.

“C’mon, sweetheart. We’ve got a concert to play.”

**1996**

“What’re you doing in a closet?”

“What are you doing in a closet?” You quickly retorted, embarrassed heat starting to curl around your throat.

“If I had to take one more picture with someone who called me a freak in high school, I might actually set something on fire.”

You laughed, clapping your hands over your mouth before the noise could truly escape. “Jesus, sorry. I thought you…were doing well.”

“I just needed a break.” You could hear the exhaustion dripping from each letter. “Gimme a crowded stadium any day over that.”

Before you could do anything else, you were nearly knocked onto your ass by Eddie abruptly turning and throwing his arms out, fingers dragging against the wall in search of something. “What’re you doing?”

“I need a light. I want to talk to you in the light—need to see your face.”

Oh, the heat was nearly suffocating now. He could still make you feel like a teenager. When it seemed he wouldn’t be finding the switch, you went to open the door and then felt your heart drop to your toes. “Eddie.”

“What, Amadeus?”

Despite the smile you felt pressing at your lips, muscle memory and Eddie’s ineffable charm slotting between your ribs like a missing piece of a puzzle, dread pricked at the back of your mind. For good reason. “I think we’re locked in.”

Eddie was quiet for a moment before his warm, guitar-string-roughened hand closed over yours as it continued to jiggle the door knob and then he tried, too. “Shit.”

“Shit,” you agreed.

“J-just hang on.” He stepped back and you heard him rummaging blindly in the dark before twinkling white light nearly blinded you. Somehow, he’d found a strand of Christmas lights and an outlet, illuminating the cramped closet in their butter yellow light. “There we go,” Eddie said, sounding more than a little pleased with himself. He stood straight, still holding the bundle of lights like something precious. His dark brown eyes reflected the soft light, almost making them sparkle.

And your poor heart could scarcely handle it.

“God, Amadeus. It’s been too long.” He moved forward like he wanted to do something else, maybe hug you, but stopped short.

Your smile faded as you glanced down to the cluttered floor beneath your shoes. “Yeah, um, ten years or so. B-but you’ve done well for yourself, Mister Rock Star.”

Eddie’s cheeks bloomed with color but he did not look away. “You listened to my music?”

If the world could open up and swallow you whole, you would appreciate it. But apparently Hawkins had had enough of earthquakes and you were forced to tell Eddie the truth, your feet on solid ground, in a small closet filled with Christmas light. “I…I couldn’t.”

His smile wavered. “Oh.”

“I-it isn’t that I think you make bad music. I actually quite like it! It…it is just…” God. Stupid. So stupid.

“You still prefer your pop nonsense, yeah?” Eddie drawled, dropping the bundle of lights onto a shelf.

“I mean, yeah, but tha-that isn’t what I’m trying to say!” You turned away from him, trying not to hate yourself more. You missed the days when you could talk to him easily. You missed the early days after everything blew over and the gates were finally closed and you’d talk for hours on the phone after you settled at NYU, trying to keep each other up-to-date on the happenings in your lives. They’d been a highlight of your week, dashing to the phone in your dorm at exactly six o’clock to make sure you’d never miss the call. But the calls had dwindled after Corroded Coffin’s first single topped the charts. You tried not to feel rejected when he missed more and more calls. But the nail in the metaphorical coffin had been when Wayne, good and sweet Wayne, had picked up the phone and told you, gently, that Eddie was going on tour and wouldn’t be back again. You received a postcard here and there after you graduated from university, from different cities around the globe where Corroded Coffin was touring. The ink would be smudged and faded by the time it got to you, but you kept all of them just the same. Pressing your fingers against the messy handwriting, stilted letters saying he missed you, as if that would be enough. And it never was. And then those stopped, too. He’d left you behind.

“You just have it all, Eddie. And I don’t know how you ever...” The words trailed off and you shook your head. None of this mattered now. He’d moved on. You were a ghost to him, too. Fruitlessly, you tried to open the door again with the same result: you were still locked in. And then the closet was too small, too warm all at once. The handle jiggled uselessly in your grasp. Were the walls inching closer? Had the lights caught fire? “Can you open this lock?”

“Just because I can hotwire a car, doesn’t mean I can pick a lock, Amadeus.” There was almost a hint of a tease in his tone. Almost. “Must’ve missed that lesson.”

You nodded, eyes trained on the unopened door. “Right. Sorry.” You needed to be let out. Needed to run far, far away before you made a complete ass of yourself.

“Good to know what you think of me.”

You turned abruptly, nearly falling—again—as you reached for him with uncoordinated fingers. “That isn’t what I’m saying, Eddie! I…” The words were sticky toffee at the back of your tongue. Unmovable and hard. “I…”

“Why didn’t you listen to my music?”

**1986**

Everything had gone wrong in a matter of moments. You had watched, heart in your throat, as Eddie played his heart out—you recognized the song. It had been on the tape he’d given you just last week.

Lesson 17

was scrawled across the shell’s spine alongside a smudged demon. Eddie had been glorious and every inch a rock star and the plan had worked and it still all went to shit.

The bats were coming too fast. There were too many of them. You and Eddie all but shoved Dustin up the knotted rope and then Eddie made sure you went up next. But then he had the stupid, beautiful, tragic idea that he needed to be a hero. He was already a hero. Had always been a hero. But he still cut the rope as you and Dustin yelled and pleaded for him to stop.

He didn’t.

Then you were dragging the small table near the door under the gate and leaping leaping leaping until you could grab at the edge and haul yourself up and through. The world swam in front of your eyes as your skull bounced on the dirty floor but you still got to your feet and rushed out with a scream of Eddie’s name. Bats swarmed in the distance, too preoccupied with something else in the distance—and you knew exactly what it was…or who.

The first bat nearly took you off your feet with a screech, tail looping around your ankle. But you pushed forward, even as another tore at your neck and another burrowed between your jacket and your shirt and ripped through the fabric like a red-hot knife through butter. But you only saw Eddie. You continued to push through until you could fling yourself over his prone form. The serrated teeth of the demobats continued to try to devour you both as you tucked Eddie’s face into your neck and hope it was enough. Even in your scrambled state, you tried to keep the important parts covered.

And you hoped.

Because that was all you could do aside from scream.

Blood coated the back of your throat, either from the force of your screams or from the blow to the face you’d taken earlier. But it didn’t matter when you heard the bats suddenly go silent before falling to the ground in a terrible downpour. The last one hit the ground with a splat and you were surging to your knees to look Eddie over.

“C-can you stand for me?” You asked as you knelt beside him, already shoving your hands beneath his shoulders.

Eddie struggled for a moment, blood-caked teeth gritting, before falling back to the ground. “Just…give me a minute.”

This was not good. Not good. Even if the bats dying meant that the plan might’ve worked, Eddie was still… You shifted, putting his head in your lap as you pressed down against the larger of the bites on his chest, feeling his blood soak your skin immediately. “Take all the time you need, okay? I’m not…I’m not leaving without you.”

Eddie made a noise. It almost sounded like a laugh. “Was just trying to buy more time.” Each word had his chest heaving.

“You were trying to be a hero, Eddie,” you almost scolded. “You didn’t need to do that. Y-you were already a hero. You already helped.” Tears started to blur your vision but you blinked them back, trying to keep him in your sight even as the strange spores, the bastardized Upside Down version of snow, started to coat you both. You wouldn’t take your eyes away from him. Not now. “Silly boy.” You pulled him a little closer, trying to ignore how slick your hands felt, pressing tighter against whatever you could reach. “You made me a promise, Eddie,” you whispered. “You promised.”

“I know.” The words were garbled. Wet. Teeth stained red. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

The tears stung and burned but you didn’t have the energy to will them away this time. He could feel it, too. “Dust-Dustin’s on his way. He can help. And Steve an-and Nancy and Robin. They’ll be here soon, too.”

Eddie nodded and you could feel his next breath stutter and stall beneath your hands. “I’m…I’m glad it’s you with me.”

“Eddie. Don’t. Don’t talk like that,” you pleaded, voice cracking. Your vision blurred even as you pressed tighter, crimson bleeding across white. You just needed him to hold on a little longer. Just a little longer. You could help him get better if you just had a little more time. “You’re going to be fine. You have to flip off Higgins, remember?”

“Y-yeah, Amadeus. I remember.” He sighed and his dark eyes found yours through your tears. “But at the end of the world? I’m glad I get to see it with you.”

“We can see everything together. Okay? Anything you want, we can go see it together.”

He nodded and then a shaking, bloody finger reached up to barely graze against your neck before falling back down to the ground. “You’re hurt.”

The adrenaline was keeping most of it at bay, you were sure. The bats had done a number on you. But right now? Right now it didn’t matter. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.” Eddie’s mouth opened, some retort on his tongue but all that came out was a wet wheeze and you felt his heartbeat stutter beneath your palm. “Eddie, no, Eddie, no, no, no. You gotta stay with me, okay? Stay with me!” You pressed harder at his chest and looked out to the grey horizon, hoping to see your friends, hoping to see some sort of salvation. “Help me,” you screamed. “Help!”

But all you saw was the strange snow.

**1996**

It was a simple enough question, wasn’t it? Why didn’t you listen to his music? Maybe now really was the time to move on. Your hand slipped from the doorknob and you crossed your arms over your chest as if that would protect you or offer comfort. Bing Crosby was singing now, muffled behind the door.

“You are a rock star, Eddie. I always knew you’d make it. Always. You were destined to be one of the good ones, one of the greats. Do you remember me bribing the guy at The Hideout just to let me in because I was underage? I just wanted to listen to you play. I wanted to see you the happiest I’ve ever seen you. I sang every song. I studied every mixtape you gave me like my life depended on it. And then you…made it. You made it, Eddie. And you left me behind.”

Eddie’s face fell, all traces of anger draining away in a second. He murmured your name.

But you weren’t done. “And I told myself that it was okay. It was okay because I just wanted you to be happy. And I thought I could, I don’t know, move on or something. I got my dream job. I live in the best city in the world. I have good friends and my grandparents finally got out of this shitty town and are living it up in Albuquerque.” You hadn’t even realized you were crying until Eddie reached out to you, gentle yet roughened fingers pressing at your cheeks to catch your tears. And your poor heart stuttered at the simple touch. How long had it been since he’d touched you like that? “And I heard about your adventures through Jonathan or Steve. Nancy even did an editorial on your band the first time you headlined at Madison Square Garden, remember that? But you never asked for me. Never reached out.”

“That’s not fair,” he said, still holding you close. His voice was low but strained, like he wanted to pull away but couldn’t force himself to do so, as if his fingertips had seared themselves to you. “You could’ve asked any of them for my number, my address, anything-”

“You were the one who stopped taking my calls, Eddie.” The simple sentence was ripped from your throat between sobs, over a decade finally cracking open. “And then you were singing about girls leaving lipstick stains on your throat and it would never be me. Never me no matter how much I loved you.”

Eddie’s face twisted and something you didn’t understand flittered across his face, something almost like heartbreak. Something almost like betrayal. Something almost like self-loathing. “You think I don’t-”

And then the door opened.

**1986**

Hawkins had been ripped open. While Vecna had been killed by Nancy and Eleven, he’d made one last ditch effort to bring the Upside Down to your world and had cracked open three gates; earthquakes shattering the small town.

Max’s knee was broken and she’d need physical therapy to walk normally again.

Lucas had a concussion from his showdown with Jason.

Steve needed a skin graft.

You were finally able to pull the three dozen stitches out of your skin after a few weeks but the doctor’s harried voice had echoed cruelly in your mind, “if that cut had been any deeper, you would’ve been dead in seconds.” Comforting. You’d been all but shoved onto a hospital bed and rubbed down with alcohol pads before dozens of stitches were sewn through your skin and you were told to leave to make room for others. The hospital had been a mad house when you’d stepped out into the hall, filled to bursting with people needing attention, battered and bruised and bleeding.

But it had been okay. It had been okay because your little ragtag team of friends had won and Eddie was alive and he gave you a slow, sleepy smile as you slipped into his room. “Hey, Amadeus.” He didn’t seem to care about the handcuff chaining him to the bed.

It didn’t last long, anyway. Your and Nancy’s alibi, Jason’s mysterious disappearance, his goons’ ramblings about seeing Max lift into the air, coupled with the well-timed reappearance of Chief Hopper helped the town begrudgingly accept that Eddie was innocent. There were still whispers, of course. Some thought that Eddie used his “satanic powers” to possess Jason into killing Chrissy, Fred, and Patrick, but you made it no mind after the cuff around his wrist was removed and you sat in his room, waiting for him to wake up between surgeries. You passed the time by doing the take home work your teachers had given you with the promise that if it was completed, it would take the place of any final exams and you’d graduate with no problems. Then, when that was finished, you did Eddie’s stack, too. You met his Uncle Wayne and he gave you a small smile when you introduced yourself, like he knew something you didn’t. He had been the one to give you Eddie’s jacket, saying he knew you’d keep it safe, on the first night at the hospital.

“He’s gonna be mad when he learns you did all that for ‘im.”

You shrugged and took the proffered hot chocolate he got for you at the hospital cafeteria. “He can be mad at me all the way across the graduation stage.”

“He did say you were a stubborn, sweet thing.”

The pencil nearly fell from between your fingers and you gaped up at Wayne before looking at Eddie at the bed, looking healthier by the day and just out of his third surgery. “He said that?”

Wayne only gave you that same, secretive smile. It was the same smile he gave you as Eddie dragged you over to take a picture, your green graduation caps and gowns shining in the summer sunlight. Your grandparents were close behind, each brandishing a camera and telling you to smile. It was redundant as you hadn’t stopped giggling since Eddie flipped off Higgins, as he’d promised. But, just as Wayne raised his camera, Eddie pressed a kiss to your cheek and knocked the breath out of your lungs.

“That’s a framer,” your grandfather said, clapping Wayne on the back and inviting them to a celebratory lunch.

Their acceptance was on the tip of their tongues—you knew it—but a man in a dark suit loomed at your side and drew everyone’s attention. “Edward Munson?”

Questions upon questions ricocheted in your mind. Who was this man? Was Eddie in trouble? What-?

He held out a small card with a smile, looking at Eddie over the rim of his probably-expensive sunglasses. “I’ve heard good things about you and your band.”

**1996**

The two hulking figures you’d spotted earlier were crowding the doorway and all but pushed you aside to reach for Eddie. You stumbled, elbow knocking against one of the shelves and pain rippled up your arm with a hiss. “Jesus.”

Eddie was quick to grab at your other arm, trying to keep you stable and you hated how you liked how warm he felt, even through the thick bulk of your sweater. “Guys, c’mon, be carefu-”

But they paid you no mind. “The party’s over, boss. You can get your dick wet later. We gotta get out of here before…” The rest of the sentence was drowned out in the scuffle as he was yanked out of the closet and into the surprisingly busy hallway. Elvis was warbling about a Blue Christmas but you barely heard it over the bustle of everyone leaving in a rush. You blindly stepped out into the hall, feeling like someone had stuffed rumpled tissue between your ears. The entire world felt off kilter as someone ran by you, knocking into your shoulder. What was Eddie going to say? Why had finally telling him how you felt leave you aching?

A hand wrapping around your arm pulled you from your reverie and you looked up to see Steve Harrington giving you a familiar, soft smile. “Time to go, sweetheart. The others are waiting.” He quickly explained that Robin called him, asking him to pick them all up after all the taxis (not that there were many in Hawkins) had refused to take them anywhere in the storm.

As soon as the others reached your and Steve’s side, a feat considering the mad rush toward the door, he was all but shepherding you out to the startlingly white parking lot, the snow now up to the middle of your calves. Robin claimed the passenger seat, leaving you, Jonathan, and Nancy to squish into the back seat. The others chattered about how ridiculous the reunion was as you all waited your turn in the long line to exit the parking lot, more than a few cars already sliding or getting stuck in the snow. Steve was patient enough. You knew their conversation was mostly just to pass the time, to let you know they wouldn’t pry (yet), giving you an escape. You gave an anecdote or two, making them laugh when you mentioned how drunk everyone seemed to be. Steve nearly beamed as you commented on how nice the car seat digging into your leg was. “I read, like, six different books about what the best car seat was! The little lady loves it,” he said, using the nickname he was fond of for his daughter.

Robin was the first to be dropped off, after chattering about her PhD program, giving you all awkward hugs from her seat so you wouldn’t have to get out into the cold. She suggested that you all go to Paris the next time a reunion comes around, “you know, so I don’t want to contemplate murder again,” before scrambling out of the car and into her parents’ house. The snow had nearly blotted out the simple line of Christmas lights along the roof, but still shined through in twinkling greens and reds. You took her seat with a sigh, crawling over the center console as Steve shouted about seatbelts, sounding like the mom you knew him to be. Nancy leaned forward to press a quick kiss to your cheek as soon as Steve slowed to a careful stop in front of their hotel—they’d told you, repeatedly, that they were not about to stay at either of their family’s houses for the holiday, no matter how much they loved them. Jonathan squeezed your arm and the pair murmured their thanks to Steve and they reaffirmed the plans to get together with all the kids at the Byers-Hopper house tomorrow, weather permitting, for the party you knew had been planned for months.

That left you alone with Steve and it took exactly forty-two seconds for him to ask, “so, you and Eddie in a closet, huh?”

“It-it wasn’t as salacious as you’re thinking, Steve. We both went in there to hide—separately, you know—and then the door somehow got locked and it was just a…fucking mess.” Slowly, an embarrassed heat pooling in your neck, you told him everything about how you’d finally, pathetically, told Eddie what you’d felt for over a decade.

Fat, white flakes continued their downward parade and the windshield wipers provided a steady beat to your disjointed story until you fell back into your seat, drained and tired. You could spot a few Christmas trees lit up behind half-closed curtains, their decorations a festive break against the growing snow. You frowned as Steve clicked off the radio, Wham’s Christmas earbug suddenly halting. He leaned over and grabbed something from the glovebox.

“Steve?”

He popped a tape shell open and pushed it into the tape deck before tossing the shell onto your lap. You turned it over to see a familiar album cover—it was Corroded Coffin’s latest album. Will Byers had been the one to draw the artwork, filled with bats and broken guitars. “Just listen, okay?” Steve asked, hand on the volume dial.

It wasn’t as if you had a choice, was it? But maybe it was time to finally do it, another way to close the chapter. So, you nodded, and Steve cranked the dial as soon as he fast-forwarded enough to the song he wanted.

The music started low and then quickly roared with heavy guitar and bass and an incessant drumbeat. It was all Eddie. It was Eddie. It was all Eddie and your fingers almost hurt as you clutched the little plastic case. The lyrics were good, and you could imagine this song getting your stuck in your head for weeks, painting a story about the a looming apocalypse, something you knew well. Then, Eddie’s voice came through, clear as day with the chorus, “at the end of the world, I’m glad it’s you…”

Oh.

Shaking fingers pressed to your mouth as the song continued on, filled with lyrics about blood and darkness and looming death…and the saving touch of someone’s hand.

“I’m glad it’s you…”

You flipped the case over and cursed the tears that blurred your vision as soon as you spotted the name of the song. The only song it could be.

Amadeus, at the End of the World

It was for you. But then Steve ejected the tape and put another in before you could truly let it sink in, a million and one thoughts coursing through your mind.

“Remember when you held me close with bloodstained hands?” Eddie sang on another song.

“Remember when you kept me breathing?”

When that song finished, Steve switched to a different track.

“Who worries over you, my girl?”

“Let me be the one to feel your heartbeat…”

And then he switched to another tape, never taking his eyes off the road.

Through raucous rifts and a bassline you could feel rattling your bones, Eddie sang, “you’re sunlight sweet and I’m your freak-Just give me your lips!”

Steve clicked off the radio as the song ended and you wiped fruitlessly at your cheeks; the tears had started during the first song and hadn’t stopped. “I’m so dumb.”

“You both are,” Steve agreed with a smile. He even patted your arm in consolation. “He asked about you all the time and then swore us to secrecy about it. He kept saying that if you wanted to reach out, you would have.”

You sniffled, the burn of the bright snow blurring. “I didn’t have his number. I don’t even know where he lives.” There was a small mess of tapes and their shell cases in your lap by the time turned the Christmas music back on and you fiddled with each of them, as if the pieces of plastic would let you turn back time and make different choices.

“Don’t worry about that,” Steve said with a conspiratorial smile.

It was only then that you realized you weren’t anywhere near the hotel where you were staying. “Steve?” You were clear across town, actually, near the newer developments and high end houses that had been built after the earthquake and property prices had plummeted. Now, years later, you were told that these houses were easily worth over half a million dollars. Each were spaced out, with plenty of land, with brick and mortar mailboxes near the street.

“Just trust me.” He pulled down one of the long driveways and parked in front of a tasteful, craftsman-style home. Sparkling white lights were looped around the porch’s banisters and bloomed soft light across the growing snow. The large bay window near the front door had its curtains opens and a large tree was at its center, decorated with ornaments that looked homemade and adorable. But that wasn’t what caught your eye.

It was Eddie, adjusting the sparkling tree-topper as he chatted with someone you couldn’t see.

“He has a house here?” You asked, feeling even more stupid.

He shook his head. “He bought this place for his uncle after their first album won him that Grammy. Apparently, Wayne was almost too proud to accept it. But you know how stubborn Eddie can be.” He turned to you and gently squeezed your arm, comforting. “Go in,” Steve said. “I can come pick you up, if needed.”

You sniffled and nodded, giving him a watery thank you and another promise to see him tomorrow for the party, before climbing out, the tapes still in your hands. The snow crunched beneath your shoes and you nearly stumbled at the top step of the porch but continued on until you knocked at the front door. Your cheeks were cold but at least your tears had stopped. You must look a mess. But there was no turning back now. The door swung open a few moments later and Wayne stood in front of you, eyebrows pinched. As soon as he recognized you, he was quick to grab at your arm and urge you inside with a murmured, “now what’re you doin’ outside in this kinda weather?” Familiar affection dripped from each word. The door shut with a soft snap behind you. The inside of the house was beautiful and warm; a wall filled with hats and mugs almost had you tearing up again. Eddie must have never stopped buying him those for every birthday, Father’s Day, and Christmas. One of Burl Ives’ Christmas albums was playing on the record player in the corner and two mugs of hot chocolate were set on the table near the tree, steam curling above.

“I…” You rubbed at the end of your cold nose, jostling the tapes in your hands. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude-”

A smile started to push at Wayne’s face as he noticed what you were carrying and then glanced at something behind you. “Well, you know I’ve always been happy to see you. But I don’t think you’re here for me.” He waved a hand and you turned to see Eddie a few paces away. The light from the Christmas tree was behind him, making his curls and waves nearly glow. His dark eyes darted down to the jumble of tapes in your hands and then he looked back up at you.

“Can we talk?” You asked.

“‘Course we can, Amadeus.” Gently, he took your hand and pulled you into the living room. A handful of presents were under the tree and two stockings were hung over the roaring fireplace. Wayne, bless him, shut the door quietly and made himself scarce.

You sat on the edge of an overstuffed leather couch and Eddie settled beside you. One by one, he took the tapes out of your grip and set them on the cushion beside you before reaching out to curl one of his hands over yours. His thumb brushed over your knuckles softly, the simple touch making you shiver.

“Eddie, I…” You shook your head. “I’m so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you, ever. I-I just-”

His gentle grip tightened a fraction. “I think we both have been a little less than stellar at this.”

You laughed, a low raspy thing. Your other hand folded over his and you tried to keep your heart from lodging itself in your throat. “Did you mean all of it? All that stuff you sang?” Eddie moved a little closer on the couch and his knee knocked into yours. “Every word.”

“It’s been over ten years, Eddie,” you whispered, not moving your gaze away from his face. His dark eyes reflected the lights on the tree and you almost wanted to cry again. He’d always been so handsome.

Eddie raised your joined hands to press a kiss to your fingers and your poor heart hammered behind your ribs. “It’s always been you, Amadeus. It will always be you.”

You sniffled and winced but didn’t pull away. “God, I’ve cried too much today.”

Eddie, gentle as ever, dropped your hands to grasp your face and wipe your tears away. “I’ve never wanted to make you cry.”

You shook your head and sighed. “And I never wanted to hurt you, either. Those songs…god, all those songs, Eddie. They were beautiful.”

“Not your pop nonsense,” he teased, thumbs smoothing against the half-moons of skin beneath your eye. “But you like them?”

“Yeah,” you whispered. “I really did.” You paused, licking your lips. Now or never. And you didn’t want to wait another ten years. “I love you Eddie.”

He chuckled, low and soft and your heart jumped. “I know, Amadeus. You told me in the closet.”

A terrible, familiar heat burned at your throat and you went to pull away but Eddie’s grip tightened just enough to keep you still. “Eddie-”

“And I have loved you since you sat next to me in history class, humming that awful song. And I will write you another six hundred songs if it meant you finally believe me.”

He loved you.

He had always loved you.

“We certainly wasted enough time, didn’t we?”

He smiled and it’s as bright as the lights on the tree, near blinding. Heart stopping. Perfect. Then, slowly, he leaned and brushed his lips against yours. Finally, finally, finally. He tasted like peppermint chocolates and smoke. And it was fucking perfect.

**1997**

It was snowing again. The weatherman said to expect another six inches before dawn and for the roads to be a nightmare for a few hours, too, before the plows were able to clear everything up. But you didn’t mind. You adjusted the star atop your Christmas tree right before a familiar pair of arms looped around your waist. Lips skimmed up the back of your neck until you were giggling and squirming in his grip.

“We’re gonna be snowed in, sweetheart. Just you and me for days. Maybe even a week.”

You swatted at his hand with a laugh, loosening his hold just enough for you to turn around and sponge a kiss to his jaw with a hum. “Nice try, big shot. There’s no getting out of Nancy and Jonathan’s wedding tomorrow. It’s just up the street. We can walk.”

Eddie groaned, melodramatic, and pressed a lingering kiss to your temple. “Remind me why we have to go?”

“I am a bridesmaid and you are a groomsman. There’s also going to be lots of fancy food and all of our favorite people are already in town and will be there, too. You promised Nancy that you’d keep Dustin in check. You know how he gets about weddings.”

He sighed and you bit back a smile, knowing he was teasing. “I’m not convinced.”

So, you leaned closer and pressed another kiss against his jaw, and then another and another until you made your way up to his lips and steal a kiss there, too. Eddie chased your mouth to kiss you again, smiling against your lips. “And, my bridesmaid dress is really fucking sexy. If you’re good-”

“I’m always good,” he whined, halfheartedly pinching at your side just to make you squeak.

“-I’ll let you peel me out of it as soon as Nancy and Jonathan leave the reception. Deal?” You squealed as Eddie suddenly dove for your neck, kissing at the scar over your pulse. You sagged in his grip and moved to kiss the matching scar on his neck, too. It was a strange routine you’d settled into by accident. A gentle reminder of what you’d come through. Together.

“But what about tonight?” He whispered into your cheek, the beginnings of a smile pressing into your skin.

“Well, tonight…” You started to tug him away from the tree with a smile and toward your shared bedroom down the hall.

(Eddie’s plan worked. You hadn’t spotted the small box he’d hidden in the branches of the Christmas tree. He’d waited over ten years to finally call you his. He could wait a few days more.)

A/N: Please let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #eddie munson #female reader

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