#as per my campaign promises~
Note
Is there a usagi in Gemini Au?
If there is, is leo and usagi together?
the gemini.
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#as per my campaign promises~#since you guys were such rockstars and we tied HERE#new mini comic series abt gemini usagi :3c#this comic takes place prior to the main comic#gemini au#rottmnt#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rise of the tmnt#tmnt#tmnt 2018#rottmnt separated au#rottmnt leo#rise leo#rottmnt usagi#rise usagi#leosagi#yuichi usagi#rottmnt fanart
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Sujood has reached out to me to boost she and Sanaa’s fundraiser. They’re urgently trying to evacuate their family from Gaza and seek asylum in Belgium. Their previous campaign was suspended, so they have started a new GFM and currently have £1,642 out of their £50,000 goal! Please share if you can’t donate!
From their GFM page:
Dear friends,
We are reaching out to you with a heartfelt plea for help. Our names are Sanaa and Sujood, and we find ourselves in an incredibly challenging and dangerous situation.
Unfortunately, our previous attempt to receive donations was unsuccessful due to restrictions on transactions to Gaza. However, the urgency of our circumstances compels us to reach out again, this time with new procedures in place to ensure the secure delivery of your generous contributions. We are launching a new campaign because we cannot afford to wait for a long time for the restrictions on the bank account to be lifted it’s already being two months now. We are unsure if we will be able to access the funds or if they will be returned to the donors. In any case, here in Gaza, we are fighting against time. Every day poses a threat to our safety, and we cannot afford to wait. If, after some time, we are able to retrieve the previous amount, we will use it to rebuild our lives and continue the education of my siblings.
The situation in Gaza has become increasingly unbearable, and we have been left with no choice but to seek assistance from compassionate individuals like you. Your donations can make a significant difference in our lives and help us escape the dire circumstances we currently face.
This is ours story:
I hope this message finds you in good health and spirits.
My name is Sanaa Odeh, currently in Gaza, occupied Palestine. I am writing this as a plea for survival, for a future for my family and myself.
Our lives are in immediate danger, with non stop explosions everyday and every night, tanks and guns all around us, and fear as a constant companion. It is a non-stop nightmare, every minute of every day, for 6 months. Everyday is a struggle for survival. Lack of food and clean water creating a crisis of death by starvation and dehydration.
Despite the endless nightmare, we are a resilient and strong family. My beautiful parents gave everything to raise us as successful daughters and we are so proud of what we have achieved.
I work as a graphic designer and my sisters: a nurse/educator, small business owner, a medical student, and a field coordinator. Despite being on the path to rich and promising futures, it can all be taken away in any moment. We have already lost several family members, including my uncles and their entire family. There is little hope that the situation will end soon, all of us waiting for our turn next.
We are looking to seek asylum in Belgium. This campaign will help support us in covering the costs to do so, specifically in covering the evacuation costs per person. Your donation will provide us with the chance to escape the endless horror we’ve been facing for the last 6 months and give us a chance to return to a safe, normal life again, where we can once again contribute positively to society.
I understand that this is a challenging time for everyone right now, but please do not underestimate what even £5 can contribute to especially when it all adds up. It really does make a huge difference. No matter how small the contribution it can still change our entire lives.
Thank you for taking the time to read our story, your support means the world to us. Whether it is simply sharing our campaign or donating, it makes all the difference in the world to us. Your act of kindness can bring light to our darkest days and help us build a better future.
Thank you once again for all your support and kindness
With heartfelt gratitude,
Sanaa and Sujood
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Trailer Park Blues - Eddie Munson x Henderson!reader
Thank you for 100 followers! :)
Read on AO3
summary: You don't think much when you start letting Hellfire use your trailer for their meetings. Dustin asked and you caved, as per usual. What you weren't expecting was the rollercoaster ride that becomes your relationship with your little brother's best friend, Eddie Munson.
wordcount: 15.8k
tags/notes: SMUT (MDNI), gn!reader (nonbinary coded if you squint), reader is Dustin's older sibling, name-calling, degradation, hate fucking i'm ngl it's hate fucking, unprotected sex, power play, mentions of bad past relationships, queer eddie munson, talks about dead parents being dead
You might kill Dustin. The windows of your trailer are illuminated. He told you they’d all be gone by the time you got home from work. As you get closer to the door and hear the excited shouts you know that they’re all still here. You’re tired, you smell, and the last thing you want to do is look at a bunch of high schoolers playing some table top bullshit.
“Dustin,” you shout as you swing the front door open.
Everyone at the dining table jumps and snaps to look at you. When you enter your trailer you’re immediately met with a view of the living room to your right and the small kitchen to your left. Your table is in the middle, creating a makeshift dining area turned D&D area.
The normal crew is there, Mike, Lucas, and Will. There are some new, and semi-new faces. The semi-new face is one you’ve seen, but never spoken to. Eddie Munson, four trailers down, and originally part of your graduating class.
“Jesus Christ, you scared the shit out of us!” Dustin exclaims, holding his heaving chest.
“You’re not supposed to be here for me to scare the shit out of,” you remind him, the annoyance evident.
“I know, I’m sorry. We’re almost done, I promise. Can we please just finish?” he pleads with big eyes and a quivering lip.
This fucking kid knows he has everyone in his life around his damn finger. You’d like to smack him.
“Fine, but you’re explaining to mom why you're not home yet,” you point at him as you speak.
His face breaks into a smile.
“You’re the best!”
“Call, now,” you order.
When Dustin goes to the phone on the wall next to your fridge, you exit to the short hall. The company isn't going to stop you from showering. Eddie is frozen. His eyes follow you as you leave the room, mouth parted slightly. You barged in a little angry and it knocked him through a loop. His poor little bisexual heart felt ready to explode. You must get more shit than he does looking like that. Doesn't matter that you’re stunning, being the picture of androgyny in Hawkins can't be easy. He wants so badly to examine that picture up close and in detail. Dustin was right about one thing. Jesus Christ.
When the kid told Eddie they could use his sibling’s trailer Eddie was surprised to find he lived so close to a Henderson without realizing. Now, he really can't believe it.
“Okay, let’s finish before I get my ass kicked,” Dustin says as he comes back to the table.
Eddie snaps out of the trance he fell into.
“Uh-we can call it here,” Eddie says, sounding far away.
The rest of the table balks at him.
“You’re calling the campaign early?” Dustin questions.
“When I asked if we could cut last week's campaign short you said you would strangle me with your bare hands,” Mike adds in disbelief.
“We’re in the middle of a fight,” Will protests.
The rest of the table starts voicing their own arguments creating a cacophony of disgruntled nerds.
“Okay, okay,” Eddie gets loud to quiet down the table, “Dustin’s next in initiative.”
The boys cheer triumphantly causing Eddie to smile. If his eyes keep darting to where you disappeared down the hall… Well, that’s his business. Your trailer is close to his in layout, but it’s much more well-kempt and put together. Makes sense since you live here alone and two grown men live in Eddie’s.
When you reappear, toweling off your hair, they’re wrapping up. Your sweatpants that sit just below your belly button and short cropped shirt don't go unnoticed by Eddie. His eyes glide over your midriff and the soft dark hair that it's home to. It seems no matter what you’re in you remain more androgynous than Boy George.
A trait that absolutely entices the queer disaster that is Eddie Munson. Dustin only ever uses sibling to talk about you. He doesn't use any language that would give any more away than your appearance does. It doesn't matter anyways, Eddie is infatuated regardless. Maybe even partially because of.
The boys all throw you a goodbye as they exit until only Dustin and Eddie are left. Dustin is cleaning up any dishes or garbage left behind while Eddie packs up all the D&D materials. You didn't realize how much goes into this table top bullshit. Eddie has books, binders, and notebooks worth of information and ideas. There's stats and prices of various items on the screen he puts up so no one can peek at his notes. Then there's the velvet drawstring bag of different shaped dice. Shapes you’ve never even seen dice come in before.
“How long were you guys playing for?” you ask the two of them from where you lean against the counter.
You don't know what time they got started, just that they were supposed to be gone when you got home.
“Six hours,” Dustin says sheepishly.
“Six hours?”
“It took longer than expected,” he shrugs with an apologetic smile.
You chuckle and shake your head. Your eyes flicker over to Eddie, catching him staring at you with wide dark eyes. Once your gaze meets his he looks down and hurries to finish packing up. You choose to disregard it. Eddie Munson can eat dirt if he thinks he's in any position to judge you. If only you knew he wasn't judging you, he was admiring you.
“It’s getting late. Do you want to just spend the night? I don't like the idea of you biking home when it's this dark out,” you say to Dustin softly.
You don't have a car of your own to drive him. Since everything that happened with Will… Yeah, he’s definitely not biking home alone at night.
“I can bring him,” Eddie offers as he zips up his bag.
“You can bring him?” You question thinking about the death trap of a van you’ve seen him drive.
Somehow, that feels even worse.
“Yeah, I can bring him,” he repeats and finally meets your eyes again.
He sees the distrust, the anxiety. It hits him in the gut.
“That’s okay, he can just spend the night,” you refuse him politely.
“How d’you think he got here in the first place?” Eddie asks with raised eyebrows and an amused smile.
Your nostrils flare a little at the smugness.
“Then I should consider myself lucky he’s still in one piece,” you shoot back.
Eddie dramatically grabs his stomach and doubles over with a grunt as if he has just been punched.
“You hurt me, Henderson,” he huffs as he looks up at you from his bent state.
A smile grows on his face when he sees you fighting off your own.
“Hello, I’m right here, y’know,” Dustin looks between the two of you exasperatedly, “I can go with Eddie.”
“Dust-”
“I can go with Eddie,” he cuts you off to repeat himself.
You exhale sharply through your nose. The two of you glare at each other for a moment. You still lean against the counter while Dustin stands beside the table. Eddie watches from where he stands on the opposite side of the table. Then your smoldering gaze turns to Eddie, stopping his breathing.
“Do the speed limit,” your voice is even, but so stern that all Eddie can do is nod.
He swallows the lump that forms in his throat as a result.
“Cross my heart,” he uses his pointer finger to draw an X over his heart.
Dustin hugs you goodbye. You make him promise to call tomorrow. Eddie gives you one last wide eyed look, a small smile plays on his lips. Then you’re finally alone. You love having Dustin over, but you’re also glad to have peace and quiet.
You moved out a few short months after graduation. Your overbearing mother proved too much to continue living with. Dustin was pissed at first. He came around when he realized it meant having a space to escape to and be himself. Something you're more than happy to provide for him.
He was thrilled to learn that Eddie lives only four trailers away from you. When Dustin asked if Hellfire could meet at your place to continue a campaign they had started you agreed for this one time. Even when you said it, you had a feeling Dustin will end up begging for
more and you’ll end up caving. The kid really does have everyone wrapped around his finger. Eddie included it seems.
“So, are they always so…,” Eddie struggles to finish his question as he drives through Hawkins.
Hot, breathtaking, pulse pounding, awestriking. He can't really say any of that to Dustin.
“Protective?” Dustin offers.
“Protective works,” Eddie nods.
Not exactly what he was thinking, but that applies too.
“Pretty much.”
“How long have they lived in Forest Hills?” He tries to keep his tone casual, but ends up sounding just a little too interested.
He can feel Dustin’s eyes burning into the side of his head.
“Year and a half,” Dustin answers.
“So they're… nineteen?”
“Twenty.”
Eddie glances over at Dustin. He looks one part irritated and two parts suspicious. Eddie adjusts his grip on the steering wheel.
“Wait, we were in the same grade?” Eddie asks, surprised.
“You were supposed to be,” Dustin ribs.
“You wanna walk from here, Henderson?”
“You wanna get murdered?”
Eddie shoots him a glare knowing he’s right. His threat is hollow with you around. If you found out he let Dustin walk halfway home he’s sure he wouldn't see morning.
“Why are you asking?” Dustin inquired after a moment of silence. Eddie shrugs.
“Just curious.”
“Uh-huh,” Dustin sounds entirely unconvinced.
“Whatever,” Eddie mutters to himself. He pushes you out of his mind and focuses on driving.
He can feel Dustin’s occasional glances. The younger Henderson has clocked his strange demeanor, he knows it. It’s not hard. He isn't as goofy or teasing. He’s more lost in thought than he'd like. He just doesn't know how he's never noticed you before. How has he never noticed the one person in Hawkins that seems to tick every single fucking box he could possibly have?
***
The next time Eddie sees you it’s raining. The weather is only noteable because he sees you walking home with no umbrella. He catches you as you make it under the awning of the movie theater. It gives you temporary shelter from the pounding of the rain. Eddie pulls over to the curb in front of you. He had been going to the store to grab some munchies, but that’s something he can do later.
You eye his van curiously. He doesn’t bother with his hazards. Cars go around him without issue. He leans over and cranks the window down.
“You need a ride?” he calls out.
“I’m good, thanks,” you call back.
“Seriously? You’ll catch your death walking all the way to Forest Hills in this. Just get in.”
You sigh, but do as he says. It's not like you want to walk in the rain. Keeping a distance from Eddie just felt like the right thing to do. He gives you a feeling in your gut you can't quite place. He always has. Is it possible to admire someone and not like them?
“Thanks,” you say as you close the door.
You’re shivering as you drip on his seat.
“Yeah, no problem,” Eddie says as he blasts the heat.
His typically loud music is soft as he drives. Something you appreciate. Work was a headache. Having to walk home in the rain was a pain in the ass. A pain in the ass Eddie has luckily saved you from.
“Where d’you work, anyways?” he asks after a few minutes.
“I’m a manager over at the general store.”
“Shit, really? I steal-I mean I-uh go there all the time,” Eddie doesn’t course correct quite fast enough.
To his surprise, you laugh. It’s a nice sound. Calming like the rain is when you aren't stranded in it.
“I’ll remember that next time I see you in there.”
There’s a comfortable silence after that. Eddie is actually a better driver than you assumed. It makes you feel a little better about Dustin driving around with him. You don't even notice you've stopped shivering. The van is warming you up, but you’re still soaked.
“Sorry about your seats, by the way,” you say.
“Eh, it’s just some water. These seats have seen worse,” he shrugs.
You grimace in disgust.
“Like what?”
Eddie lets out a hearty laugh.
“Probably better you don’t know.”
“Jesus, you’re nasty, Munson,” your laughter betrays you.
“Oh, you have no idea, Henderson.”
Another round of comfortable silence as Forest Hills comes into view. You expect Eddie to park at his trailer. You don't mind walking the short distance to your own. Instead he pulls right up to your door.
“Seriously thank you, Eddie,” you give him a smile.
“Don’t worry about it. If- y'know, if you need a ride again you can give me a call.”
“Sounds like you’re just looking for an excuse to give me your phone number,” you tease.
Eddie chuckles.
“Two birds, one stone,” he smiles.
“You’ll need to try harder than that, Munson. I’m sure I’ll see you around.” You flash him a smile and then you’re gone.
Only the wet imprint of your ass lets him know you were ever really there in the first place.
***
“Please,” Dustin pleads over the phone. You sigh.
“Dustin, it’s my day off. I don't want to sit here and listen to you guys for six hours,” you tell him.
“We’ll only be an hour, two tops.”
“Dustin-”
“I can stay over after and we can hang out. We’ll watch E.T.,” he sweetens the pot.
He knows that's your favorite movie and he knows you’re a sucker for quality time with him. Little asshole.
“Fine, but you only get two hours before I kick everyone out.”
“Three?”
“Two and a half.”
“Thank you, you're the best, bye!” he hangs up before you have a chance to change your mind. You chuckle and shake your head.
Two and a half hours stuck in your room isn't too bad. Besides, you’re not really stuck. You just don't want to get in the way, or listen on in utter confusion. You know a little about D&D from Dustin talking about it, but not enough to follow. Sure you’ll pop out to grab a drink, maybe something to eat, but overall you intend to stay removed.
Part of you wants to stay away from Eddie. You know he’ll just start flirting and you'll be too weak to stop it. Too weak to resist giving it right back to him. It shouldn't surprise you when Eddie is the first to show an hour later, but it does. He gives a quick rhythmic knock on your door.
“I'm surprised you made it so early. I know the commute is killer,” you quip when you see him standing outside the screen door.
With a grin, Eddie braces his lower back beneath his old bookbag and leans into his hands a bit to dramatize discomfort.
“Yeah, my back is killing me from the long drive over,” he makes a face as he jokes to drive it home.
You chuckle and push the screen door open to let him in.
“Dustin isn't here yet,” you tell him as he enters.
He pauses just inside the doorway leaving him so close to you his body heat reaches the skin of your arms.
“I can come back,” he says and begins to turn.
“No, it's alright. He should be here soon. I’m assuming you need to get set up or something?” you tilt your head toward the cleared off dining table. He nods and you hold your arm out to tell him he’s welcome to continue inside.
You watch him make his way to the table. Something about the way he’s joking back with you makes you wonder if you had things wrong. Maybe he wasn't flirting in the van the other day. Maybe it was just friendly banter.
“Thanks for letting us play here. We usually use the drama room, but they’ve needed it more with that stupid musical coming up,” Eddie says as he opens his bag and begins to pull things out.
“Let me guess, Grease?” you shut the door and find your place on the couch.
Eddie glances at you with an amused smirk.
“Sure is.”
“Figures. Thank God Dustin isn't a theater kid. I don't think I could sit through that every year,” you chuckle.
Eddie’s smile is curious, maybe even a bit nervous. You're watching him and it makes his movements just a little less sure.
“Instead you get a bunch'a freaks playing D&D at your table.”
“You calling my brother a freak, Munson?” There’s an edge to your words.
Eddie’s eyes get wide.
“Uh- no, I-”
“I’m just kidding, calm down,” you laugh, “it’s okay, he is a freak. Besides, I don't think you’d ever be mean to Dustin.”
“Why’s that?”
“He worships the ground you walk on. If you were ever mean to him your uncle would need to pull dental records to identify you,” you say it light heartedly with a smile.
Your voice and expression don't match the vicious threat. Eddie’s heart thumps hard as he spreads out the battle map.
“You’re a little scary, y’know that?”
“How else am I supposed to keep you in line?”
Heat crawls up Eddie’s neck. His throat dries and he clumsily knocks into his DM screen. It clatters flat onto the table. You watch on in amusement as he fumbles with it. He’s flustered. A fact that goes straight to your ego. Eddie is Dustin’s friend so you had no plans to actually be mean or rude to him. Admittedly, your brother is pretty good at picking people. Even if others don't see what he does in those people.
Is flustering Eddie by accident mean or rude? Is continuing to do it because you like that you can?
“How is it I’ve never seen you around before?” Eddie asks once the DM screen is back up the way he wants it.
“You have, you just never noticed,” you shrug.
“Trust me, I would have noticed you,” he glances at you as he says it.
When he sees your attention is already on him, he quickly moves on to digging out the miniatures he brought.
“Trust me, you wouldn't have. I haven't always been this comfortable dressing and existing how I want. Not everyone can be Eddie Munson,” you give him a small smile.
“What's that supposed to mean?” he pauses setting up to look at you.
He half expects insults to start being hurled at him.
“You’ve always been yourself. Even when it would be easier to be someone else. I’ve always admired that about you. It took me a long time to be that brave,” you answer genuinely.
His face reddens and his eyes nearly strike you down where you sit. They’re big, as always, and the distinct brown of them swims in an emotion you can't place. Eddie’s heart is in his throat. He knows he’s attracted to you physically, but you might have just sunk a hook in him emotionally. Whether you meant to or not, you nearly destroyed him with your words. He can't remember the last time someone has said such nice things to his face.
“Always, huh? You been watching me, Henderson?” he bounces back, diffusing his own feelings with the joke.
You shrug with an innocent smile.
“You make it hard not to.”
Eddie’s face somehow gets even hotter. He might need to peel off his jacket if this keeps up. As he struggles to come up with a response to that, Dustin bursts in. The large smile on his face drops when he sees the flustered state of Eddie. His eyes travel back and forth between the two of you.
“What’s happening?” he asks
“Just getting to know your friend,” you shrug casually.
Traces of that smile can still be found on your face. That's when Eddie knows you’re doing it on purpose. You saw how flustered you made him and decided to keep going. He’s not sure if he hates you or just fell in love with you.
“Right,” Dustin says, completely unconvinced.
“Okay, well, I’ll make myself scarce before the rest of the nerds get here. Remember, two and a half hours, Dustin,” you point at him as you rise from the couch.
“I know, I know.”
Eddie watches you disappear down the hall. His eyes stay on the beginning of the hallway until he hears your bedroom door click shut. Then he finally looks at the boy in front of him. Dustin has narrowed eyes on Eddie.
“What?” Eddie asks defensively and continues emptying his bag.
“You tell me,” Dustin crosses his arms.
“I don't know what you mean,” Eddie lies as he spreads out his reference materials and notes behind the screen.
“Bullshit.”
“We were just talking.”
Before Dustin can pry further the rest of the boys start piling in. Mike, Lucas, and Will are confident just walking in like they live there. Jeff and Gareth follow with more hesitation. Eddie happily dives in once everyone is settled at the table. Happy to continue the campaign and happy to avoid talking about you further with Dustin. He’s not sure how the younger Henderson will take his burgeoning crush.
Around thirty minutes into their gameplay you appear for a drink. You notice immediately that Eddie becomes distracted when you pop into the kitchen. Eddie’s eyes track you the entire way as the others discuss their next move. You catch his gaze when you turn around from the fridge. Before he can try to act like he wasn't staring, you smirk. Then you’re taking a nice long drink from your can of coke. Eddie swallows, watching you, Adam's apple bobbing as he tries to regain the ability to speak.
“Eddie,” Dustin waves his hand in front of Eddie’s eyes.
Eddie blinks back into the game, feeling like he traveled a million light years and back. Dustin glances over his shoulder to where Eddie had been zoned off staring. You give your brother a small wave when he sees you. His eyebrows furrowed as he looks back to Eddie who is trying desperately to get back on track. Eddie hazards one more quick look at you. You throw him a wink as you make your exit. On their way back to the table in front of him, his eyes meet Dustin’s.
“What the hell was that?” Dustin questions.
“That was Mike getting knocked prone,” Eddie answers and reaches over his screen to knock Mike’s miniature on its side.
“You’re deflecting,” Mike says smugly, happy to have some retribution for the hit Eddie’s NPC made on his character.
“Uh, no, I’m DM-ing,” he makes a sweeping gesture to the layout in front of him.
“Holy shit, Eddie has a crush,” Lucas realizes out loud.
Dustin groans.
“Are we gonna have to stop playing here?” Will asks genuinely.
Will is the only one Eddie can consider innocent here. The rest of them earn a glare.
“I don't know, Eddie, will we?” Dustin sasses with a pointed look at Eddie.
“No, we won't. We only have a couple hours here, can we get back to the fucking game?” Eddie snaps them back into focus.
An hour goes by and you’re back. This time Eddie is able to drag his gaze away from where you’re digging around in a cabinet. You have to reach up in a way that exposes the skin of your stomach. A silky stripe of skin and some tufts of dark hair between your too small shirt and sweatpants.
Instead of allowing himself to get distracted by you again, he starts putting on more of a show. His movements become more dramatic, he throws himself more fully into the voices he’s doing, and overall amping up the theatrics. He figures if you admire him always being himself, he'll dial himself up to ten.
You find yourself leaning against the counter with a bag of chips in your hand watching. No one else seems to have noticed your arrival. They’re too taken in by the narrative Eddie is weaving. You can't blame them. Eddie puts his full body into it. After a couple minutes he lets the group deliberate their next move. His eyes flicker over to you again, a smirk on his face. The eye contact jolts you from whatever weird fog you’d fallen into watching him. As you make your leave you see the quick wink Eddie tosses your way.
Your heart is loud in your ears when you shut your door. Oh, it’s on, Munson, you think to yourself. If there's one thing you are, it's competitive. It’s clear you fluster Eddie, which means there’s some type of attraction there. Truthfully, you’re attracted to him too. You always have been. His authenticity and ability to stay true to himself have always drawn you in. Now that you can tell he’s into this too, you’re ready to have fun with it. The two of you have officially entered a little game and you refuse to lose.
An old pair of shorts is your next move. They’re Hawkins High green with white trim and stripes up the side of each leg. They’re long enough to cover everything, but short enough to draw attention. You give it another fifteen minutes before re-emerging. When you do so you fan yourself with your hand to pretend your room is hot. Without looking to see if Eddie has noticed you bend at the hips to start peering in the fridge. You look innocuous enough searching for a water bottle to cool down. Then you hear a clattering, a few shouts, and fumbling.
“Shit,” Eddie hisses.
You turn around with a water bottle pressed to your forehead. Everyone, but Eddie, is frantically looking for something on the floor. A small red pointy looking die sits in front of you on the linoleum, a black number twenty facing up. You pluck it off the floor and hold it up lazily.
“You guys looking for this?” you ask. A couple of them hit their heads on the table on their way up.
When they see the D20 between your fingers they swarm you. Suddenly you’re trapped against the fridge by several manic nerds. Dustin grabs the sides of your upper arms.
“Did you see what it landed on?” He all but demands.
You shove him off and push through them. Eddie remains seated at the table watching with huge eyes.
“First off, whose is it?” you ask.
“Mine,” Eddie’s voice wavers just a bit on the single syllable.
With a bright smile you walk it over to him. He looks up at you when you’re next to the table, face getting more and more red. You place the D20 down in front of him, black twenty still up. His mouth parts slightly as if to say something, but nothing comes out. You have him all lined up where you want him. Now, you just have to make the goal by brandishing some of the only D&D knowledge Dustin has imparted on you.
“Natural twenty,” you say, your smile curling into something more mischievous, “Congrats on the crit.”
Eddie continues blinking his wide dark eyes at you. The rest of the boys groan behind you. Whatever Eddie just rolled for clearly isn't good for them. They all take their seats again.
“You couldn't have lied?” Dustin huffs comically.
“And rob your DM of his roll? Never,” you chuckle.
You lift his hat, ruffle his hair, and walk off. Eddie gapes after you, heart absolutely pounding. He won't be able to stand the rest of the game. His jeans got a little tighter when he saw you bent over in those fucking shorts, distracting him mid roll. It only got worse when you walked over his D20, looked down at him like you know the hold you have, and congratulated him on his nat twenty.
“I think he’s drooling,” Mike’s voice pulls Eddie back to the table.
“He’s speechless,” Gareth adds.
“I’m not speechless. I'm contemplating.”
“Contemplating what?” Lucas questions unconvinced.
“How exactly I want this nat twenty to fuck up your day.”
You don't make another appearance until their time is up. By the time you make it out there it's just Dustin and Eddie. Dustin is on his knees in the living room looking through the different VHS tapes you have in a milk crate. Eddie is packing away all his stuff neatly.
“How’d it go?” you ask them as you plop down onto your couch.
Dustin launches into an excited and detailed account of the game. Eddie expects you to tell him to calm down, that you don't need a play by play of every second. You don't. Instead you listen encouragingly, ask questions for clarification, and let Dustin rattle on.
“Sounds like you did a good job with this one, Dungeon Master,” you say to Eddie with a smile.
His heart skips.
“Even I have my days,” he shoots you a smile in return as he zips up his bag.
“Yeah? Maybe one of these days you’ll be able to keep your dice on the table,” you tease.
Dustin watches the two of you and it clicks. At first he thought Eddie was just taking a morbid interest. You’ve had plenty of that. Guys in Hawkins like experimenting, toeing the line you ride between genders, and then denying anything ever happened when they come to their senses. He didn't want to think Eddie would be like that, but as protective as you are of Dustin he is of you. The way you prop your chin on your hand and lean on the arm of the couch toward Eddie finally clues Dustin in. You're into Eddie too.
“Eddie, you should stay and watch E.T. with us,” Dustin interjects.
Your eyes dart to him curiously.
“I promised Wayne I'd be home by eight. Next time, alright?” Eddie swings his bag over his shoulder.
Dustin is disappointed, but doesn't put up a fight. Eddie knew he wouldn't last through a movie with you. Not if earlier was any indication of what you’re capable of doing to him. Not with Dustin around. As disappointed as you might be, you’re also relieved. If Eddie sat next to you the movie would have been forgotten immediately. You and Dustin bid Eddie farewell and start the movie.
Dustin is knocked out on the couch by the end of it. You throw the soft blanket you keep in the living room over him. It’s too early for you to be tired. You take to cleaning up a little, grabbing what Dustin missed when cleaning up after the campaign. When you go to toss the little bits of trash in the garbage can you find it full. You roll your eyes knowing full well Dustin left it like this for you when he could have taken it out.
The outside air nips at your exposed legs. It’s a short walk to the dumpster, but in the dark it can be creepy. Forest Hills isn't the most lit up place at night. You hurry to toss the bag into the dumpster.
“Come here often?”
The voice startles you. You whip around with a small yelp. Eddie stands before you with a garbage bag in his hand and a teasing smirk on his face. When you realize it's him you recover quickly.
“Only when I’m hoping to see you,” you tease as you step out of his way. He tosses his own bag in the dumpster and turns to face you.
“You callin’ me trash, Henderson?” He raises his eyebrows.
“I didn't say that, but if that's what you took from it…” you smile playfully.
He shakes his head chuckling.
“You're kinda mean,” Eddie points at you as he says it.
“Am I?” You ask, taking a step forward.
There's a foot of space between you and Eddie. You can see his breathing stutter in his chest.
“Yeah, but I like it,” he admits quietly, heart pounding.
You smile and take another step forward. You’re fully in Eddie’s space now. He can't even tell if he’s still breathing. You’re still in those fucking shorts, you're openly flirting with him, and you’re so god damn close. He might just die on the spot.
“Do you?” You're torturing him now.
He knows it. You know it.
“Now you’re just tryna get me to say nice things about you,” he teases with a smirk.
How he’s maintaining any amount of composure is beyond him. Maybe God is real and right now Eddie is His favorite little soldier.
“Is that so hard?”
“No, not when you're wearing those.”
He nods down to your shorts. You laugh, placing a hand on the breast of his jean vest over his leather jacket.
“I thought you’d like’em.”
“You were right.”
“I’m glad I dug them out for you then,” you smirk, toying with one of the many pins on his vest.
“You- for me?” Eddie sputters not expecting the bold statement.
Light teasing and flirting, sure, but not that.
“You’re really surprised?” you chuckle.
“I mean, yeah,” he shrugs lamely. His composure is quickly slipping.
“Then you haven't been paying attention very well,” you chide playfully.
“Jesus Christ,” Eddie breathes.
Before you can say another word, Eddie breaks. He grabs the sides of your face and crashes his lips into yours. You grasp onto the denim of his vest as you melt into it. His lips are warm, urgent, and a little sloppy with desperation. The kiss sends a thrill through your entire body. It’s only when he pulls away that you remember where you are. Outside at night kissing Eddie Munson next to the fucking dumpster. Are you sixteen again?
You just look into each other's eyes for a second. Eddie’s face is still just inches away from yours. His pupils are blown to shit and you're sure yours are too. You drag him forward again by the grip on his vest. This time your other hand finds a home in his coarse wavy to curly hair. He moans into your mouth as your hold on his hair tightens. You give a surprised groan when his hand grabs your ass. He rides the shorts up just enough for him to brush against the skin they once covered.
It takes an extreme amount of effort to pull away. Somehow, you manage. Both of you are breathing heavily. After a second of just studying each other's face, you shake your head with a smile.
“I better get going before I try to jump your bones in the dumpster,” you say, but don't move.
“Maybe you can jump my bones another time,” Eddie suggests with a smile.
You chuckle.
“I think that can be arranged.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Aren't you eager,” you tease.
“Can you blame me?”
“No, I guess not.”
He gives you an expectant stare. You pretend to think his offer over.
“Okay, tomorrow. Dustin should be gone by one,” you nod.
Eddie fights off a groan. He forgot about the Dustin of it all. Maybe this isn't a good idea. Maybe he should call the whole thing off.
“See you tomorrow,” he says instead.
“I look forward to it,” you smile and leave him.
He watches you walk back to your trailer. Without you pressed against him, he’s suddenly cold. He jogs back to his own trailer still in disbelief. His thoughts are spinning. One thing is for sure, his dreams are going to be full of you tonight.
***
Eddie’s fist hovers by the door for a second. This is his last chance to back out. It’s his last chance to turn around and avoid any awkward confrontation with Dustin later. Eddie cares about that kid’s opinion of him far too much. Once he has the thought to leave, he gives a quick rhythmic knock.
“Eddie?” Dustin questions when he opens the door, “What are you doing here?”
Eddie struggles for something to say. Dustin is supposed to be gone.
“Oh, Eddie left his dice. I gave him a call last night,” your voice calls from deeper in the trailer.
The lie is easy and smooth.
“So, you gonna let me in or what?” Eddie jerks his chin up at Dustin.
His hands are shoved into the pockets of his vest. The left one is wrapped around the condom he brought just in case you didn't have any. He’s almost afraid if he lets go it’ll fall out and Dustin will have more questions.
Dustin pushes the screen door open to let Eddie in. When he enters he sees you standing over the kitchen sink. You shoot him an apologetic look over your shoulder. He returns it with a small understanding smile. Clearly, you hadn't planned on Dustin still being here either. You turn off the water, dry your hands on a nearby towel, and face him from the kitchen.
“I have the dice in my room,” you tilt your head toward the hallway.
You lead Eddie to your bedroom. It’s at the end of the short hall, similar to his own. An unmade full bed is pushed into the far corner under the singular window. A dresser sits in the opposite corner with a couple framed pictures on top and what looks like a small silver urn. The wall behind your bed is adorned with an intricate forest green tapestry with the tree of life on it.
“I’m so sorry,” you begin in a hushed voice.
“S’alright,” Eddie assures you.
“He decided to stay and I couldn't exactly tell him no,” you explain anxiously.
“It’s really alright, Henderson,” he gives you a reassuring smile.
Your heart skips a beat. Part of you feared he’d be pissed. There have been plenty of guys in the past whose tempers were as short as their sexuality was confusing. Eddie notices the way you relax when you accept his words.
“Well, you’re welcome to hang out as long as you’d like,” you tell him.
“Maybe I should go. This probably wasn't a good idea anyway,” he says with a quick look over his shoulder.
Dustin is still in the living room, Eddie can hear the tv. When his eyes turn back to you, your whole demeanor has changed. Your face is suddenly unreadable. Your stance is closed off.
“Yeah, maybe you're right,” your voice is cold.
Eddie starts internally panicking. Clearly he said the wrong thing, but he doesn't know what.
“It’s not you,” he rushes to explain, “it’s Dustin.”
You roll your eyes.
“Don't use my brother as an excuse for whatever sexuality struggle you're having,” you whisper harshly.
Eddie’s hands find either side of his head. His fingers sink into his hair as he tries to understand how this situation turned on him.
“I’m not having a sexuality struggle,” he argues, frustration beginning to bubble up.
“Whatever, Eddie. I’ve been through this too many times.”
“Through what? You're not actually fucking talking to me. Just talk to me,” he gestured wildly in the air, shaking his hands in a pleading motion.
“Through assholes chatting me up, making me feel special, like maybe someone actually fucking likes me. Only to find out I was nothing but a novelty. I don't know why I thought you could be any different,” you explain bitterly with a shake of your head.
Eddie runs a hand over his face as he processes. Your words sting. They burn tiny lacerations into his skin. I don't know why I thought you could be any different. He never thought he'd be compared to the rest of Hawkins, always an outlier. You’re grouping him in with probably the worst Hawkins has to offer. Now that really fucking hurts.
“I do actually fucking like you. Why can't you get it's more complicated than that?”
“Oh, I get it. You can't figure out what you’re feeling and you’re afraid it’ll make you gay. So, test it out with me and then move the fuck on like nothing ever happened,” you say while crossing your arms. You fold in on yourself, becoming smaller and smaller before Eddie’s eyes.
“I am gay-I mean not gay gay but-fuck,” Eddie struggles.
The heels of his hands dig into his eyes as he tries to collect his racing thoughts.
“Just go, Eddie. We can pretend this never happened,” your voice is low, almost a rumble.
“Will you just listen to me?” he demands frustratedly, voice raised.
“Is everything alright?” Dustin appears in the open doorway.
His face is full of concern and confusion.
“Yeah, everything’s fine, Dust. Eddie was just leaving.”
Eddie gives you a desperate look. He pleads with those big brown eyes. When it's clear you’re done and this conversation isn't going any further he sighs.
“See you later, Henderson,” he mumbles as he pushes past Dustin.
You’re not really sure which one of you it's directed at. Eddie isn't either.
***
You actively avoid Eddie the following week. It’s painfully obvious. He wants a chance to grab you. To talk to you and explain the misunderstanding. He's beginning to think you can sense that and that's why you’ve been so slippery as of late. The only time he really could is when you’re on your way to work, but he doesn't want to do that. He doesn't want to make you late or upset you before a shift.
Dustin opens the door the next time Eddie knocks. You’re still letting them play in your trailer, but you haven't been home the last couple sessions. He does his best not to let it bother him. It's fucking hard when Dustin keeps giving him these watchful, curious looks. Almost like he’s trying to decipher what happened just by studying Eddie’s face. These looks are peppered throughout the entire campaign, exhausting Eddie.
It feels like fate when you come home as he’s packing up. He gives you an unsure smile. You return it and go into your room. That’s something. That’s progress. At the end of the day, Eddie doesn't want you thinking so low of him. He hates knowing you think he'd use you as an experiment. He’s an asshole, but he’s not a piece of shit.
“Dustin, if you need a ride home Steve is stopping by in a few minutes,” you call out from your bedroom.
When you walk back out you’re in a pair of dark blue shorts that fall to your mid-thigh, and a baggy white muscle shirt. You catch the expression Eddie was making before he managed to wipe it off his face. You pause between the kitchen and the front door.
“What?” you question a little aggressively.
Eddie holds his hands up to his chest in surrender. The unwarranted attitude automatically sets him off.
“Put the gun away, jeez. I didn't know you’re friends with Harrington is all,” Eddie snaps back defensively.
“Okay, what the fuck is going on between you guys? I thought you liked each other, but now you’re acting like you hate each other,” Dustin interrupts exasperated.
“Shut up,” the two of you say in unison.
Your head snaps to Eddie.
“Did you just tell my brother to shut up, Munson?” you demand.
“You did too!”
“Because he’s my brother. Who the fuck are you to talk to him that way?”
“Will you calm down?” Dustin demands.
“Dust-”
“No, this is so stupid. What happened?”
You grit your teeth. A sharp exhale exits your flared nostrils. Your eyes flicker to Eddie for a second. His face is red with frustration, his eyebrows are set, and his mouth is a thin line. You look back to Dustin's confused face.
“Jason,” you state flatly.
“Jason?” Eddie questions, absolutely bewildered.
Dustin’s face drops. His eyes squeeze shut as he sighs. You watch him slowly turn to look at Eddie. Eddie’s stomach sinks when he sees Dustin’s broken expression.
“Eddie, you didn't,” he pleads softly.
Eddie’s eyes fly furiously between you and Dustin. He’s trying to grasp what the fuck is happening. Why did you bring up Jason? Why is Dustin looking at him like that?
“Didn’t what? What’s going on?” he asks, absolutely lost.
“You should go,” Dustin answers solemnly.
“Jesus Christ, you fucking Hendersons don't know how to have a conversation to save your lives,” Eddie grumbles as he continues packing up his stuff.
“What’s that, Munson?” You demand, stepping forward.
“C’mon, don’t-” Dustin starts.
“Dustin, go wait outside,” you order without looking at him.
Your glare remains firmly on Eddie. Eddie who is glaring firmly back, only the battle map left on the table.
“I’m not gonna wa-”
“Outside, now.”
Dustin huffs, but ultimately listens. Once the door is slammed shut behind him you march up to Eddie. Eddie backs up, but you don't stop. Soon his back hits the wall and there’s nowhere else to go. You stop directly in front of him and start aggressively poking his chest.
“Let’s get something fucking straight, Munson. If you’re going to be using my home for your stupid fucking childish fantasy game you're not going to talk about Dustin or me that way, got it?” you spat.
“Oh, now it's a stupid fucking childish fantasy game. That’s rich. You didn’t seem to think that when you were drooling over me DMing.” Eddie counters, still holding up his facade of confidence despite being cornered.
“Please, don’t flatter yourself,” you scoff.
“I’m not. It’s pretty fucking clear you’re into me, sweetheart.”
“Yeah? And what are you? Completely indifferent? You get a hard on just from seeing me in shorts. You're pathetic.”
Eddie wants to be hurt. He wants to be hurt so fucking bad. His body has other plans in response to your words, though. Fire spreads to every limb. He has half a mind to bend you over the table right now and show you just how pathetic he is. He’s ready to make you an incoherent mewling mess so he can lean down and whisper who’s pathetic now? into your ear.
“And you’re a fucking tease,” he snaps instead.
“Holy shit,” you laugh sarcastically, “You’re getting turned on right now, aren't you?”
“Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn't you?”
“Me? Munson, you want to fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid.”
The front door slams open. You whip around and Eddie’s eyes snap up to the door. Steve is standing there with his hands on his hips, looking completely unimpressed.
“Alright, kids, what seems to be the problem here?” Steve asks.
He steps into the trailer with Dustin at his heels. Both you and Eddie are red, breathing heavily, and still standing within an inch of each other.
“Steve, can you just bring Dustin home, please?” you try to sound less irritated, but it doesn't work very well.
“Okay, well, one, you said I could borrow your blue jacket. And two, I’m not going anywhere until you two explain what the fuck is going on.”
“Nothing, I’m just dealing with Jason Junior over here,” you answer, crossing your arms.
Steve’s head lolls back briefly in exasperation.
“God, Eddie, not you too,” he groans.
“Not me too, what? Can you guys stop being so fucking cryptic and tell me what you mean?” Eddie demands.
He’s absolutely over being compared to Jason out of everyone. You huff and walk away. The three of them watch you wander into your room and then back out. You throw the blue bomber jacket at Steve. He catches it with a frown.
“Everyone just get the fuck out of my house,” you grumble and stomp back to your room.
The door slams with such force Eddie is surprised he doesn't hear the wood splinter. All three boys flinch at the sound. Eddie scoffs to himself and starts to barge out. Steve stands in front of the door, blocking Eddie’s way.
“Move, Harrington,” Eddie orders.
“Not until you tell me what all that was about, Munson.”
“Can we do this outside?” Dustin interjects.
The three of them leave the trailer. You’re left alone in your room with nothing, but endless silence. Endless silence and that heavy feeling you get in your stomach whenever you just get done ruining everything.
“Okay, can someone please tell me what the fuck all this Jason bullshit is about?” Eddie turns on Dustin and Steve once they’re a good few feet from the trailer.
Steve and Dustin exchange a look that Eddie doesn't like. They’re both privy to something about you that Eddie isn't. It’s not surprising, but it's surely irritating. Especially when everyone is talking about it like he knows too.
“You remember that black eye Jason had inexplicably about four months ago?” Steve sighs.
“Yeah, it was a helluva shiner.”
“I gave him that.”
Eddie spends a moment just blinking. How is this relevant?
“Okay…” Eddie trails off, shaking his head to tell Steve to continue.
“I gave him that because he’s a little prick that really fucked’em over,” Steve continued with a gesture over his shoulder at your trailer.
“Wait… Jason? They were with Jason?” Eddie questions in disbelief.
“Yeah, behind locked doors. Until Jason was done playing queer and got with Chrissy without saying anything,” Dustin says bitterly.
Hearing queer from Dustin’s mouth kinda stung Eddie, he won't lie. He knows Dustin meant it in a sexuality way, not derogatory. Something he likely picked up from you. Still, there’s something about someone decidedly straight saying it.
“When they confronted him about it he… He said some not very nice things. It really fucked with them. Like really fucked with them. I mean he wasn't the first one to do something like that, but he was the worst one,” Steve explained, sounding irritated at the memory.
“I still don't get what that has to do with me,” Eddie rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands.
“You tell us,” Dustin crosses his arms.
“I don't fucking know.”
“Just tell us what happened between the two of you,” Steve rubs the bridge of his nose, a hand in his hip.
Eddie tucks his hands in his armpits. He spends too long looking between Dustin and Steve. He really doesn't want to do this. He really really doesn't want to do this, but he also doesn't want to be put in the same league as fucking Jason. Frustrated that he’s backed into a corner for the second time today, Eddie wets his lips with his tongue.
“Fine, fine. We’ve been flirting. Last week we made out a little- the night you guys watched E.T.. I was supposed to come over the next day after you were gone so we could… y’know,” Eddie gestures awkwardly with his hands.
Both Dustin and Steve let out an ew.
“Yeah, anyway. You were still there. When we were talking in their room I said that maybe it's for the better that we didn't do anything. After that… I dunno what happened exactly. They started going on about me having a sexuality crisis, which isn't what was happening. I was just worried you would be pissed at me if we did do something,” Eddie finishes explaining.
Dustin and Steve exchange a look again. Eddie hates this. He hates feeling put under a microscope. He hates that you’ve turned on him so quickly.
“You sure you weren’t… experimenting?” Steve asks, jerking his chin up at Eddie.
Eddie rolls his eyes.
“Yeah, I’m sure. I got experimenting out of my system a long time ago, alright? I know who and what I like.”
Steve nods and rubs his jaw in contemplation. He glances once more at Dustin who wears a troubled expression. That troubled expression is aimed directly at Eddie.
“You're both pussies,” Dustin states.
“Excuse me?” Steve scoffs.
“Not you,” Dustin rolls his eyes.
“I’m not a pussy. I tried, alright? Whenever we talk now it’s just a fucking fight,” Eddie says heatedly.
“You used me as an excuse. That’s why they think you’re full of shit. You flirt and make out then all the sudden you get concerned with what I think? It’s bullshit, Eddie. You just got scared.”
“Scared of what?”
“Of the possibility you could have feelings!”
Eddie’s jaw sets. His hands tuck back into his armpits, now his arms apply more pressure. Acid rises in his throat. The kid is right. It’s not that he has any crazy feelings right now, but he can feel them coming. Like a sneeze building up, he can sense the oncoming rush. The way you carry yourself, the way you speak to others, the way you speak to him. Eddie knows he could catch feelings fast if given the chance. When an out was presented, he took it. It’s the feelings that make this feel messy, not your relation to Dustin.
“Can we just fucking agree that I’m not Jason?” Eddie sounds more desperate than he’d like.
“You’re not Jason, but you gotta get them to realize that,” Steve tells him.
Eddie sighs.
“I’m going inside. I’ll see you later,” he mumbles, turning on his heel.
This conversation has him exhausted. You have him exhausted. He knows he has to find a way to talk to you. Talk, not argue. Not fall down a rabbit hole of aggressive sexual tension. Right now, though, he needs to take a fucking nap.
***
The short rap on the front door startles you. You wait for a beat where you lay on the couch. Another set of three knocks. Curiously, you answer the door. When you see Eddie standing with the screen door open you go to close it again. His hand flies out and stops the door from shutting.
“Will you just let me talk?” He huffs.
“Fine,” you sigh and go back to the couch.
You don't bother checking if he’s following. The screen door creaking shut followed by the front door lets you know. He sits delicately next to you. There's a few inches of space left between your legs. Eddie fiddles with the rings that have become a permanent fixture on his left hand.
“So, talk,” you order.
“I’m not Jason, alright?”
“Cool, that it? You can see yourself out.”
“What the fuck is your problem?” Eddie snaps.
He tries to believe he made a valiant effort to stay calm. Your attitude irritates him more each time you show it. Eddie is a lot of things, patient in the face of unwarranted malice is not one of them.
“You, you’re my fucking problem.”
“Me? Henderson, you want to fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid,” Eddie turns your own words against you.
Your head snaps to look at him. Nostrils flaring, face red, and eyes full of contempt.
“Please, Munson, you’re beneath me. You’re pathetic,” you sneer.
Jesus Christ, there's no reason your words went straight to Eddie’s dick the way they did. How are you able to play him with more skill than he does his guitar?
“I wasn't pathetic when you were sucking my face off by the dumpster,” he counters.
“You act like I sucked your dick. It was a stupid kiss.”
“I remember you wanting to jump my bones after that stupid kiss,” Eddie mocks you.
Your fists clench in your lap. You’re about a second away from grabbing Eddie by his hair and showing him just how pathetic he is.
“Yeah, then unfortunately for you, you kept running your fucking mouth.”
“Unfortunately for me? Trust me, sweetheart, you’re the one missing out. I woulda rocked your world, anyone else woulda been ruined for you,” Eddie’s voice is condescending with a challenging edge.
You lean in slightly with narrowed eyes.
“I really doubt that.”
Eddie leans in some.
“Do you?”
You lean in even further.
“Yeah, I do.”
Eddie’s eyes flash down to your mouth before quickly moving back to your eyes.
“Maybe I should prove it to you then.”
“Now who wants to fuck so bad they look stupid?” You smirk.
“Fuck it, me,” Eddie breathes and closes the space between you.
His hands are on your face. His mouth moves furiously against yours sending shockwaves down your body. One of your hands takes hold of the back of Eddie’s hair. The other runs along his jaw until it’s circled around his neck. You force him away by tugging back on his hair and pushing forward on his throat. He looks so pretty like this with his big eyes wide as can be, all pupils. His face is flushed and his breathing is ragged. Eddie is pliant in your grasp.
“Look at you. Just as pathetic as I thought,” you coo teasingly.
“I’ll show you pathetic,” he grumbles.
In a blink, you’re flat on your back, wrists pinned above your head with one of Eddie’s strong calloused hands. He hovers over you. The heat radiating from his body soaks into your skin. The tip of his nose brushes against yours.
“You’re a real fucking brat, y’know that? Go on, admit it. Tell me you're a brat,” he hisses in your face, warm breath hitting your lips.
Your heart is pounding. Your body is heating up. Every part of you wants this so bad no matter how much you hate it.
“You’re an asshole,” you hiss back.
Eddie’s rings are cold against your jaw. His grip is punishing as he manhandles your face. He presses his forehead to yours. Those huge brown eyes are commandeering as they lock onto yours.
“Am I gonna have to fuck that attitude out of you?”
You manage to let out a taunting laugh.
“You don’t have what it takes to fuck anything out of me,” you bite.
His grip tightens making talking impossible. Eddie's mouth brushes against your ear and his hair tickles your nose.
“I’m going to fuck you until the only words you know are Eddie, please, and more,” he whispers.
You hate the shiver that runs down your spine. You hate how much he just turned you on, how much you want what he’s threatening you with. Every nerve ending is on fire. Eddie’s lips begin an assault on the soft bit of skin just below your ear. The sensation makes you squirm in delight. Eddie smiles against your neck.
“There you go, now you’re behaving. Now that you’ve finally shut the fuck up,” he taunts.
You glare at him, still unable to speak with his hand holding your face. That’s it. He’s been on you long enough. You’ve let him have control for long enough. Confusion flashes across his face when you smile. You lock your legs around Eddie’s waist. With a grunt, you launch your hips and legs up and over.
Eddie lands with an annoyed noise on his back on the carpeted floor. You straddle him, wrists free. Now you grip both his wrists next to his head. You brandish a wicked smile as he looks up at you in surprise. Clearly he wasn't expecting to be bested at that moment. Your knees dig into the carpet uncomfortably around his hips, but you ignore it. Eddie’s slightly nervous expression takes your attention off of it. You lean in to brush the tips of your noses together like he did before.
“What, big boy? Not feeling very confident anymore? You got no more to say?” you mock him quietly.
“I already said everything I need to say,” he mumbles back.
“What’s that, bitch? I didn't hear you,” your voice drips with venom.
Something in Eddie completely snaps. He swears he hears the sound of it. A deafening CRACK SNAP POP. Then whatever wild animal that has been scratching at his insides bursts free.
“Alright, I’m real fuckin’ tired of this attitude, sweetheart. Guess I’m gonna have to do somethin’ about it.”
You open your mouth to challenge him further. To berate him, degrade him. He can feel it. While it would only egg him on, only contribute to the growing erection in his pants, he won't allow it. He won't let you win control over this situation. Not this time. You’re already far too smug.
Eddie manages to rip his hands away from yours. In a blink, he’s sitting up. You place your hands flat on his chest to shove him back down, but he moves too fast. His hands are under your ass, scooping you up as he stands in a second. Instinctively, you wrap yourself around him to avoid falling. He has a firm steady grip on you, though.
“You won't be able to walk right when I’m done with you,” he growls, setting off for your bedroom.
“I just don't believe you’re good enough at sex for that,” you whisper into his ear with a smirk.
“Oh, I’ll make a believer out of you. My dick will have you meeting God and calling him by my name.”
He throws you onto your bed. The rough manhandling is something you never knew you wanted. It’s riling you up even more.
“You got condoms or are we doing this raw?” Eddie questions.
“I have condoms, but we’re doing this raw anyway,” you answer smugly.
“Is that what you think?” he taunts.
He rummages around your bedside table. There’s a decent sized box of condoms that’s about three quarters of the way empty. Admittedly, you haven't touched the box in a while. It’s from another life that ended months ago. However, when Eddie teases you about them, you find yourself lying.
“Jesus Christ, you’re more of a fucking whore than I took you for,” he holds up the box, shaking it to emphasize how empty it is.
“I like sex, and I like cumming even more. Too bad only one of those things will be happening tonight.”
Eddie takes out a condom and throws the box back in the drawer. He unbuttons his pants and kicks them off unceremoniously. You can see the imprint of his dick hardening in his tight boxers. He looks down at you with hooded lustful eyes. Soon you’re staring at his bare dick, his underwear abandoned on the floor. It bobs throbbing and red, glistening with precum.
“Get on your hands and knees. M’gonna use that big mouth of yours since you like havin’ it open so fuckin’ much,” he snaps.
You don’t know why, but you listen. Now that you’re on your bed with Eddie’s dick right there, all fight is gone. Eddie's hand grabs a fistful of your hair and pushes into your mouth.
“Shit,” he moans as you welcome him in with a twirl of your tongue.
He starts fucking your face slowly. You look up at him through your lashes. Eddie is watching you take him into your mouth like it's nothing. The eye contact makes you moan, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he brushes the back of your throat.
“Never thought I’d get you to shut the fuck up,” Eddie grunts as he picks up his pace.
You try to remove your mouth. A scalding remark on the tip of your tongue. His grip on your hair tightens until it burns. His thrusts don't break.
“Not so fast, sweetheart. I plan on cumming down your throat before that loud mouth of yours starts up again.”
And fuck if that doesn't send you on a mission. Eddie doesn't even need to guide you after that, but it doesn't stop him. He refuses to relinquish control. He refuses to give you an opportunity to flip this on him. Finally, his hips stutter. Then he’s holding your head, calling out a resounding FUCK, and buries your nose in the dark hair at the base of his dick. You moan as Eddie shoots hot streams of cum down your throat. You take every last drop.
Once he’s finished, his grip on your hair loosens. You sit back on your heels. While making eye contact, you use the back of your hand to wipe your mouth. It’s a move that makes Eddie’s softening dick twitch.
“You had something to say?” Eddie's voice is raspy, but still condescending.
You narrow your eyes at him. As if he wasn't just using your mouth to get off, you cross your arms petulantly.
“No, it’s okay. I don't think your fragile ego can handle it,” you shrug.
Eddie huff in disbelief.
“I just fucked my cum down your throat and your gonna call my ego fragile?”
“Seems so.”
“Just tell me what you were gonna fuckin’ say,” he orders, climbing into the bed over you.
Eddie crowding you causes you to lay back. Even in the compromising position, you smirk smugly. Eddie’s hair tickles your cheeks as he hovers over you. He raises his eyebrows expectantly.
“It was nothing really… Just that Jason’s dick always managed to shut me up way faster than yours did,” you say casually, almost bored.
“Jason’s di- are you seriously bringing him up right now?”
“Why, that bother you?”
“Considering I’m about to make you meet God like we talked about, yeah a little,” Eddie’s voice is breathy.
He actually sounds a bit irritated.
“Never took you for the religious type.”
Eddie gets a wicked smile.
“‘M not, but you’re already in bed with the Devil, baby. Only one other Big Man to meet.”
“Big? Is that what you think of yourself?”
“Do you need a reminder? I’ll be happy to fuck that pretty mouth of yours again.”
Eddie leans down closer. Fuck, you want to kiss him. You don't. You won't let him know just how much you’re enjoying this. Instead you smile teasingly.
“You think my mouth is pretty?” You bat your eyelashes at him.
“Fuck, I hate to admit it, but… Not gonna lie, I think every part of you is unreal. Y’know, until you start talking.”
You snake your hands up Eddie’s chest. Slowly and sensually, you make your way up his shoulders. Then you skirt up and around to the back of his neck until your fingers tangle in his hair. Eddie really likes when you play with his hair. You can tell by the way his eyelids droop a little more at the contact. He almost looks like he’s about to lean down and kiss you. So, you take your chance.
Your grip tightens tenfold. Eddie’s eyes widen as you pull him back, sitting up in the process. He hisses, but doesn't complain otherwise. You glide the tip of your nose up the side of his neck until you reach his earlobe. With a smirk, you angle your head up so you can speak into his ear.
“I’m gonna use that big mouth of yours since you like having it open so fucking much,” you whisper, using his own words against him.
You swear you hear him breathe a curse. You let go of his hair, knowing he’ll follow you wherever you lead. Eddie is sure you could lead him into Mordor, up Mount Doom, and down into the lava like Sméagol. He’s sure that whatever painful obsession the ring of power imposed on Frodo, you just imposed on him. For better or worse. Eddie Munson is officially and completely captivated by you. You’re his precious.
That’s why he doesn't hesitate. He doesn't argue. He doesn't talk back. Instead he watches, waits patiently for you to settle into your pillows and peel off your shorts and underwear. Eddie happily, even eagerly, let’s you fuck his face like he did yours. You swear his tongue is magic. It’s hitting all the right spots, deft movements eliciting loud moans from you.
“Look at you. Just as pathetic as I thought,” you say as your thighs clench around Eddie’s head, your fingers digging into his scalp.
All Eddie can manage is a moan as you fill his mouth. You don't take as long as Eddie did to finish. Him using you and cumming down your throat had gotten you close enough, closer than you care to admit. You cum with a loud moan, no actual words coming out. With your fingers tangled in his hair, you pull him up. He looks dazed, drunk on your taste.
“At least your mouth is good for something,” you tell him with a slick grin.
Christ, Eddie is a goner. He’s an absolute goner. This is so so bad.
“Look at you, you’re already all fucked out and we haven't even gotten to actually fucking yet. You’re really making me miss Jason…” you sigh dramatically.
The mention of Jason again wakes Eddie up. A growl rumbles through his chest. His hand finds your wrist, applying enough pressure to get you to let go of his hair. He clambers over you, face real close to yours. There’s something hungry in his dark eyes. Something carnivorous.
“I’m gonna make sure you forget about fucking Jason,” he hisses.
“Fucking Jason is the one thing I like to remember,” you tease.
Eddie silently curses his own poorly placed fuck that gave you that opening. Hearing Jason’s name in the middle of this is seriously starting to grate his nerves.
“That’s it,” Eddie grumbles.
Before you can question him, he grabs onto your waist. With little effort he flips you onto your stomach. Your face is held sideways against your pillows. Eddie forces your hips in the air. You can feel the tip of his dick tease your entrance, causing you to twitch.
“What happened to the condom, prude?” you spit at him from your compromised position.
“The whore wanted it raw, the whore will get it raw,” he growls back.
It’s in that submissive state, Eddie’s rings digging into your scalp as he holds you down, him degrading you that you realize you’re a goner. You’re an absolute goner. This is so, so bad.
“What’re you waitin’ for then?” you question.
A loud SLAP rings out and a burning sensation spreads across your ass cheek. You gasp at the feeling.
“This is for my pleasure, whore. This isn't about you. I’ll go as fast or slow as I like.”
On the last word Eddie pushes into you. He doesn't go too fast at first. Sure, he wants to fuck you until you can't walk, but he doesn't want to hurt you. The foreplay was minimal, slow is better for now. You whine as he bottoms out. Completely stretched out and full you can do nothing but grip the sheets on either side of your head.
Slowly, Eddie begins to move. He’s so lost in the feel of you around him and his own mutterings of Jesus Christ that he doesn't register you speaking at first.
“What?” He breathes.
You cackle.
“Christ, Munson, you’re pathetic.”
There’s that word again. That fucking word. Eddie leans down, both of your damp shirts still on and sticking to each other.
“Remember what I said earlier?” he whispers into your ear.
“I remember you saying you think I’m unreal,” you mock him.
He straightens back up.
“Yeah, yeah, keep talkin’ while you still can. Soon you’ll only be able to say Eddie,” he gives a single powerful thrust earning a moan from you, “please,” another powerful thrust, “more.”
Eddie sets off on a wild chase of his second orgasm and your delirium. Admittedly, that delirium was setting in very fast. His movements are quick, strong, and fluid. You can't think of anyone else who has fucked you like this. In a way you didn't realize you’ve been craving. In a way that doesn't make you feel like an object, a subject to be studied, or a novelty. Eddie makes you feel a person who is desired, even in spite of the animosity ripe between you. He makes you feel like a whore in the best way possible.
“Shit, you feel so fucking good,” Eddie groans as you tighten around him.
He’s giving you so much already, but he was right. There are only three words you can think of right now. Only three words you think you’re capable of uttering.
“Eddie,” you moan.
“What’s that, sweetheart?”
“Please.”
“Come again?”
“More.”
“Not sure I heard you right,” he says smugly, never breaking pace.
“Eddie, please, more,” you moan.
“Thought so.”
Eddie’s thrusts become animalistic. All the anger, frustration, name calling, and overall emotion from the rollercoaster that your relationship has been are being taken out on you. You start saying it like a mantra. Eddie, please, more. It’s a white flag, a surrender. It’s you telling him he’s won. Boy, oh, boy is it a sweet fucking sound. A sound that turns into a scream of a moan with your body tensing around him. He spills into you, hips flush against your ass. His own moans mingle with yours in the air.
You collapse onto your stomach, Eddie close behind. He stays on top of you. After a minute of catching his breath he rolls off of you. You stay on your stomach as you come back to your senses.
“You alright, Henderson?” Eddie’s voice is much softer than you’re expecting.
You turn your head to face him. He’s watching you with wide eyes. How does he manage to look so innocent after everything he just did to you?
“Yeah, Munson, I’m peachy. You good?”
“Yeah, I’m good.”
He nods, eyes never leaving you. Your eyes don't leave him. What’s the point in trying to hide staring after all that? You don't care that he is and he doesn't care that you are.
“So, you still miss fucking Jason?” Eddie asks playfully.
“Who?”
“Good,” he smiles, looking awfully pleased with himself.
“Do we still hate each other? I can't remember anymore,” you knit your eyebrows to feign confusion.
Eddie laughs. It’s a low sound that rumbled through his chest. His eyes take on a gooey quality that you fear you may get stuck in.
“I think we might like each other now. I’ll keep you posted.”
“Sounds good to me.”
***
The scent of sex is thick and heavy in the air when you wake up. Golden light streaks across your face as the sun lowers beneath the horizon. When you shift to turn over and check the time on your alarm clock, a warm weight stops you. Eddie’s arms are around you loosely, holding you against his chest. Both of you are still in only your shirts.
Carefully, you extract yourself. Eddie groans, but doesn't wake. You only bother with a new pair of underwear. Your stomach lets out a loud grumble and the hunger hits you. You take another look at Eddie’s sleeping form. The annoyance doesn't creep up at the sight of him anymore. Something else does in its place. Something you decide not to dwell on. All you know is if you’re this hungry, he’ll wake up hungry too.
Eddie wakes up to the smell of sex, bacon, eggs, and melted butter. It takes a second to get his bearings. The smell makes him think morning, but the position of the sun tells him it's evening. He crawls out of your bed and pulls his bottom layers back on. When he makes his way out to the main living area he finds you in the kitchen. You’re humming God Only Knows and pushing eggs around in a sizzling pan. Beside you is a plate of bacon and a plate of pancakes.
There’s a moment where the only thing Eddie can do is watch you. You’re bathed in the last golden rays of the evening, nothing but that baggy white muscle tank and a fresh pair of black underwear. The song isn't one he goes out of his way to listen to, but Wayne has thrown it on a few times. Enough for Eddie to recognize the Beach Boys’ tune.
“All that for you?” Eddie finally alerts you to his presence.
You jolt a little in surprise and whip around to look at Eddie. A coy smile crawls upon your face.
“Uh- no. I woke up starving and figured you would too,” you shrug.
As if on cue, Eddie’s stomach lets out a loud growl. You laugh and gesture for him to sit at the table. The whole scene feels so… domestic. If something in Eddie snapped earlier, something else is connecting now. There’s a satisfying click in his head as the sensation of things finally being on the right track sets in.
“Y’know, I didn’t peg you for a Beach Boys fan,” Eddie comments after a moment of only the sound of you scraping eggs around the pan.
You don't look at him, but Eddie swears he sees color rise to your cheeks.
“I’m not really. It… my dad used to sing that song all the time,” you explain, something close to troubled taking over your voice.
Eddie’s eyebrows raise. He’s never heard mention of Father Henderson before. Dustin only ever has complaints about your mom. Neither of you have mentioned a father until now.
“Dustin’s never mentioned-”
“He wasn't Dustin’s dad.”
You slide the scrambled eggs onto the last empty plate. Eddie watches you bring them over before grabbing a couple more plates for the two of you to eat from. Then some cutlery.
“I’m sorry if I brought up a sore subject,” he apologizes with big eyes as you sit across from him.
You begin shoveling food onto your plate.
“You didn't. I actually love talking about him, but my mom and Dustin have never really felt the same. So, I just don’t.”
“Do you want to talk about him now?”
You finally look at Eddie. Eyebrows slightly raised, eyes a tad wider than normal, and a soft smile on your lips. He wonders if it's okay to reach over and kiss you.
“His favorite song was God Only Knows by the Beach Boys, but I guess you probably figured that out.”
“Not a bad choice.”
You chuckle.
“I can't imagine you listening to the Beach Boys.”
“I don't, but Wayne does sometimes. God Only Knows is one of the only ones that doesn't make me want to rip my hair out,” he flashes you a playful smile.
“My dad would sing it whenever he was doing something boring. Laundry, dishes, but especially cooking.”
Eddie nods as he fills his own plate. There’s a couple minutes where the two of you eat in silence. Occasional voices could be heard outside, some cats, and the clinking of bottles as recycling goes out. The average soundtrack of Forest Hills.
“Can I ask what happened or is that not cool?” Eddie asks genuinely.
He really doesn't know how to navigate this conversation. He doesn't want to piss you off or upset you in general. All he knows is how he would want to be asked and, honestly, he simply wouldn't. You don’t seem as closed off on that front as he is, though.
“Pancreatic cancer. My mom ended the marriage before the cancer did, though. Said it was too much for her to handle.”
“Shit, I’m sorry.” Eddie suddenly felt very guilty for asking.
You just shrug.
“Where’s Dustin’s dad?”
“Who knows,” you snort, “he ran off with some woman from his job.”
“Jeez, your mom really has-”
“Poor choice in men? Yeah.”
“I was gonna say piss poor luck.”
You laugh, which loosens some of the tension that's built around the conversation. Eddie chuckles along, scarfing some food down in the process.
“We would fly kites when it was nice out. Sometimes he’d bring me to the lake where we’d fish and swim. He liked going to the library a lot, too. I basically grew up in the mystery section. A lot of that was lost when the cancer got bad, though. All of it, really. All of it except that song. No matter how bad it got, he always sang that song,” you rattle on sadly, but with a smile.
It’s been so long since you've talked about him. It feels good. Like visiting him after a long time away. Memories are nice, but there’s something special about sharing them. It’s easier to relive them. Easier to enjoy them when you get to do it with someone else. Maybe it’s just because that someone else is Eddie. You think if anyone will understand, or at the very least respect, how it feels it'd be him.
“What was his name?”
“Jack. Jack Coleman.”
Eddie’s eyebrows furrow. He narrows his eyes and leans in, pointing his fork in an accusatory fashion.
“Wait, so, you’re not a Henderson? You’re a Coleman?” He questions.
You break out in a smile.
“Guilty.”
Eddie looks like he was struck by lightning. Like the heavens just opened up and revealed the meaning of life to him.
“Shit, wait… I do remember you!”
“No, you don't,” you shake your head, attempting to hide how mortified that sentence makes you.
“Yes, I totally do! All your friends called you Cole. You had those sick green vans,” he wears a goofy smile.
You feel heat crawl up your neck.
“You remember my vans?”
Now it’s Eddie’s turn to flush bright red.
“Yeah, like I said, they were sick.”
“I still have’em somewhere. Maybe I’ll break’em out one day,” you smile.
Both of you clear your plates after that. You really were hungry. It’s an amicable silence. One that grows more uncomfortable in your chest because you know another hard conversation has to be had.
“I know you’re not Jason, by the way. I mean, I know now. Sorry I jumped to conclusions. I've been through a lot of Jasons,” you tell him softly.
Eddie offers a soft smile.
“S’alright. Would you tell me what happened there? I can't imagine you with fuckin’ Jason.”
You chuckle.
“Yeah, he asked me for help at work and then started saying all the right things. The dating pool for me in Hawkins is small. So, when he said he didn't want anyone to know I said okay. When he pretended not to know me in public I said okay. Then, one day, he was just…,” you frown at the memory of them walking down the street holding hands, “with Chrissy Cunningham. I asked him about it, but he was pissed I called his house. Called me about every derogatory name you can think of.”
Eddie could actually kill Jason. He already hated him, but now he’s actively cursing the ground the asshole walks on. How could he treat you so shitty? How could he not feel grateful he gets to be in your presence in this capacity?
“Well, I’d like to keep doing this. As public as possible. I want everyone to know I’m with someone this unreal,” he keeps his tone playful, but you can see the sincerity in his eyes.
Your heart starts pounding against your chest. Eddie is sitting across from you offering you everything you’ve ever wanted in a relationship. Someone who not only wants to be with you, but is proud to be with you. It’s almost too much.
“So, you're with me now, huh?” you tease.
“I sure am,” Eddie teases back with a wolfish grin.
“Maybe let's start with an actual date.”
“You asking me out, Hen-Coleman,” he places emphasis on getting the last name right.
A smile forms on your lips. You don't have an issue with being called a Henderson. The different last name is why so many people don't know you and Dustin are related. So, you don't correct people anymore when they call you Henderson. The reminder that you're technically only half siblings has always upset Dustin.
“Yeah, I think I am, Munson.”
“Then I expect to be picked up at seven sharp. You better have flowers and chocolates. I’m expensive to date.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Eddie helps you clean without you asking. He takes over the dishes, scooting you out of the way and instructing you to dry and put them away.
“I dunno where anything goes,” is his excuse.
Really, he just wanted to take on the more arduous task for you. A sort of repayment for making him food. The effortless kindness you've met him with after the sex you had. The angry, heated sex. Eddie finds it kinda funny how the two of you have fallen into this little exchange of kindness and good will considering how the day began.
When the dishes are all done and put away, Eddie begins awkwardly fiddling with his rings. It feels like his time with you is coming to an end. He doesn't want to overstay his welcome, but fuck does he want to stay. Just hanging out with you like this makes him feel… normal. He doesn't feel like the Freak, the drug dealer, or the fuck up. He just feels like Eddie and, for the first time, he feels like maybe that's enough.
“Is it really dumb to ask you to stay?” you ask him suddenly.
You’re standing across the small kitchen, having just put the last of the plates away. Eddie looks at you with wide, excited eyes.
“Awe, you wanna spend more time with me, Coleman?” Eddie coos teasingly.
“Alright, forget I said anything,” you roll your eyes with a smile.
Eddie lets out a laugh.
“I’ll stay until you kick me out,” he smiles back.
You don't kick him out until you have to go to work the next afternoon.
***
The next time Dustin calls to beg for permission for Hellfire to meet at your place, you agree without hesitation. The day before you work, but only until five. Eddie is waiting in his van in front of the store when you exit, a lit cigarette between his lips. You smile and hop in.
“I wasn't expecting you to pick me up,” you say as you buckle your seatbelt.
You know he had work at the record store today. Eddie takes one last drag of his cigarette and puts it out in the cup holder on his side. He’s been doing that ever since you yelled at him for flicking his butts out the window.
“Got out at four. I’m not gonna let my precious Coleman walk home if I can help it,” he shows off a goofy smile and starts to drive.
“You think I’m precious,” you coo.
“More precious than the One Ring,” he coos back.
“Okay, you've lost me.”
Eddie glances at you in disbelief.
“You have Henderson as a brother and you don't know Lord of the Rings?”
“Oh, that’s those books that read like textbooks, right?”
“Read like- Jesus Christ, I might have to rethink this whole situation,” he says to himself.
“Sorry,” you laugh, “I don’t have much time for reading. So, when I do, if it's not simple and to the point, I can't get into it.”
“Lord of the Rings is art. It’s a painting on paper.”
“Aren’t all paintings on paper?”
“Canvas,” he corrects, “you’re makin’ me feel real smart today.”
“Glad I can be of service,” you say sarcastically.
“Seriously, though. That’s like… my favorite thing other than D&D and music,” his voice is more tender, more serious.
And you, he thinks. It’s far too early to admit that. Doesn't mean he doesn't feel that way, though.
“Maybe I can give it another go,” you shrug.
Eddie throws a soft smile your way. You hold onto the warmth it fills you with for as long as you can. Eddie ends up staying the night, which isn't much of a surprise. It was clear he was expecting it because he brought his D&D bag with him. It did make setting up the next day easier since he was already there.
By the time Dustin shows up Eddie is all set up. You’re laying on the couch, Eddie is crouched beside you. His face is close to yours, a sly smile present. You’re busy giggling like a maniac at whatever he must have said. Dustin lets the screen door fall shut behind him. The sound of it slamming startles you and Eddie.
“What’s going on?” Dustin asks suspiciously.
Eddie smiles widely.
“Just telling Coleman here what’s in store for you guys today,” he says easily.
Dustin visibly stiffens. He doesn't find this situation as amusing as the two of you seem to.
“Coleman,” Dustin states, eyes set on you.
You can see the hurt. It’s been so long since you've corrected someone on your last name. You didn't think about how the sudden change might make Dustin feel rejected.
“Yeah, y’know, their last name,” Eddie eggs the conversation on, unaware of the ugly feelings bubbling up.
“I know their last name, Eddie,” Dustin snaps.
That clues Eddie into the sore nature of the subject. He glances apologetically between you and Dustin.
“Dustin, don’t be rude,” you chide.
“You two were at each other’s throats the last time I saw you together and you’re telling me not to be rude?”
“Well, we’re not at each other’s throats now. So, yeah, I am,” you begin catching Dustin’s own attitude.
You sit up, causing Eddie to stand.
“Whatever, it’s bullshit and you know it,” he rolls his eyes and throws his bag down next to the chair he usually occupies.
“Excuse me, what’s bullshit?” You question and stand up.
Eddie is watching helplessly. He can't help but feel like he incited this situation. Dustin gestures widely at the air around you and Eddie.
“You telling me what to do. You guys are friends today, but tomorrow you’ll probably be fighting again. Isn't that how it goes with you?”
Any emotion falls from your face. Your hands shake a bit. You won't let them see you break. You won't derail their night. Besides, Dustin is right. You and Eddie are good now, but you like to blow up all the good things in your life. Ever since your father died, the idea that anything good may be permanent feels more like a pipe dream. It’s easier to discard good things before good things discard you.
“Yeah, it is. I’m going to be in my room. Have fun with your campaign,” you mumble and storm past him to your room.
The door doesn't slam. It clicks shut calmly, which is scarier. Eddie rounds on Dustin.
“What the fuck is your problem, Henderson?” he demands.
“I don't have a problem.”
“You wanna talk about bullshit? What is it? Am I not good enough-”
“Eddie, you know that’s not it.”
“Then what is it?”
Dustin takes a second. He sighs, closing his eyes, and then opening them once more.
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
The waver in Dustin’s voice throws Eddie off. His features soften as he looks at Dustin. Guilt washes over him. Sure, Dustin might be younger and Eddie might see him as a protege, or a younger brother, but he’s still one of Eddie’s best friends. Fuck, this was really shitty of him. He should have told Dustin he’s into you, regardless of how obvious it was. He should have told him you two have hooked up and are seeing where things go. Maybe not official, but exclusive. Instead, he acted like it didn't matter. Like it didn't matter that he’s seeing his best friend’s older sibling. Eddie runs an anxious hand over his face, stopping at his chin to hold it in thought.
“I’m really sorry, Dustin,” is all he can say in the end.
“I don't want an apology. I want an answer. I asked you so many times, Eddie. Every time you just dismissed me. I’m not stupid! And I don’t care! I’m happy for you, for both of you. I just… I just really wish you told me.”
Eddie takes a shaky breath. Dustin's words fall heavy on his shoulders. They're a weight he can tell he’ll be carrying for a while.
“I should’ve. I was afraid of what you'd think. What you’d say. It’s not an excuse, I know, but… I dunno I think this is real, man. It feels real.”
Dustin does what Eddie thought he may never do again. He hugs him. It takes Eddie a second to register, but once he does he hugs back tight. He’s hopeful when they separate.
“I think it’s great. Seriously, you both look really happy. But if you hurt them, Eddie, I’ll get Steve to beat you up.”
Eddie nods with wide eyes.
“Understood.”
“Okay, I have to go apologize,” Dustin sighs.
Eddie watches him disappear to your room. Mike and Will come strolling in. Eddie thanks whatever is out there that they showed after all that.
***
“So, we’ve been doin’ this a while now,” Eddie says, head lolling over to look at you.
You’re in your bed, fully clothed. These nights are Eddie’s favorite. Together in bed for the sake of being together in bed and nothing else. Eddie’s hair is splayed out behind him. The singular telephone pole light outside exposes the blush on his cheeks. It makes you smile. You like that you do that to him.
“I s’pose we have,” your voice is soft and quiet.
“D’you maybe wanna make this an official thing?”
He looks shy, nervous. It’s adorable.
“I’d love to be an official thing with you.”
“Metal,” he breathes with a smile.
You chuckle and press a joyful kiss on his lips. When you pull away Eddie can tell you have an idea. Your smile gets this funny little quirk when you get an idea.
“Since we’re an official thing, I guess you should formally meet my father,” you try to sound serious.
Pure confusion crosses Eddie’s face. You gesture to the set up on your dresser. A small urn and some photos. Understanding and then mischief lights up his face. He hops out of bed and stands before the dresser.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir,” Eddie says and bows as if addressing a king.
You let out a little laugh. Then he’s staring tenderly at the photos. One from your third birthday. You're on your father’s lap covered in cake. Another is from one of the times he took you fishing. You’re around six in that particular photo. The final photo shows you at eight. Your father looks so much older despite it only being a few years. He’s paler, thinner, and more tired looking. You’re tucked into bed with him, asleep. Eddie can only assume it's the last photo you took with him.
“You were a cute kid,” he comments adoringly and jumps back into bed.
“What, I’m not cute now?” you tease.
“No, you're unreal now, remember,” he smiles.
You chuckle.
“You’re unreal too, Munson.”
One thing’s for sure, Eddie was right. This official thing is definitely real and it’s definitely it for both of you.
#eddie munson#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x henderson!reader#eddie munson smut#eddie munson fic
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Just curious. How bad has Biden been at controlling COVID-19 in your view?
First: I already responded to a similar question you left on this post.
Second: Biden has been atrocious for COVID-19 safety and management. COVID-19 is still killing people, and our president has done a horribly insufficient job in mitigating that. "Better than the Republicans" is not the same thing as "good" or "effective." Biden's abysmal reaction to COVID-19 is part of why I'm so thrilled that the Uncommitted campaign for the Democratic primary has achieved some success. That particular campaign is focused on ceasefire in Palestine, but the People's CDC explained in a statement how Palestine is also very much a public health issue. We need to scare the bastard and actually do some of that "pushing him left" that people claimed they'd do after getting him elected. Though it seems to me like a lot of people just settled for, "okay, we got rid of Trump, we don't have to worry anymore."
Third: While I'm at it, people have to do more than vote. You have got to get involved. You have got to do more than participate in the presidential election once every four years. Join a union (may I recommend the IWW?), follow the guidance of The People's CDC, volunteer for your local Food Not Bombs, get involved in a tenants union like the Autonomous Tenants Union Network, read Riot Medicine, get trained in first aid and get involved in a street medic group, read up on your local politics and get involved on the small-scale, do something in addition to voting in the presidential election. Even if you're limited in how much you can personally participate, find the people who are talking about these issues and signal boost them, and share the information with others who may be more able to participate more. If you can tell people to go vote in the presidential election, you can also tell them to go do other things, too.
Now, with all of that out of the way, here are some links related to Biden's abysmal COVID-19 response:
During his 2020 campaign, Biden promised immediate $2K stimulus checks. Instead, he delivered $1,400. Sources: [x] [x] [x] [x] [x]
Velena Jones for NBC Bay Area: "‘Too expensive': Bay Area residents shocked over new COVID vaccine prices"
Reuters: "COVID vaccine manufacturers set list price between $120-$130 per dose"
Joseph Choi for The Hill: "Free COVID-19 test program to be suspended for now"
Disability activist Alice Wong writing for TeenVogue: "Covid Isn't Going Anywhere. Masking Up Could Save My Life," and the follow-up article, "COVID and the 2024 Election: What Biden and Democrats Owe High-Risk People."
Laura Weiss writing for The New Republic: "Democrats Can't Keep Ignoring Covid in 2024."
David Cohen and Adam Cancryn for Politico: "Biden on '60 Minutes': 'The Pandemic is Over.'"
Alex Skopic for Current Affairs: "COVID-19 is Still a Threat. So is Biden’s CDC."
Adam Cancryn for Politico: "Biden Appears to be Over Covid Protocols."
Paul Thornton for the Los Angeles Times: "Covid Still Rages, and the Biden Administration Isn't Helping."
Eric J. Topol for the Los Angeles Times: "The U.S. is facing the biggest COVID wave since Omicron. Why are we still playing make-believe?"
We should have free, universal testing. We should have free, universal vaccination. We should have free, universal treatment. We should have financial assistance for those of us who can't work outside the home. We should have mandated work-from-home for any job that can be done remotely. We should be emptying prisons and paying attention to the way disease and abuse proliferate inside their walls. We should have COVID-19 safety PSAs and government support for universal masking. We should have free distribution of N95s. We should have mandated masking in medical settings and public spaces. We should have a higher minimum wage. We should have healthcare reforms. We should have strong worker protections. We should have improved infrastructure. We should have a president who gives a single flying fuck about how many of us are dying.
And we have none of it.
But we sure seem to have money to keep dropping bombs, arming cops, terrorizing the vulnerable, and imprisoning innocent people to use for slave labor.
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At least 350 women have been killed by a man since the murder of Sarah Everard – the equivalent of one woman dying every three days, The Independent can reveal.
Frustrated experts said the government is still failing to protect women as the sobering new figures came to light on the third anniversary of Ms Everard’s kidnap and murder by a serving police officer.
Her death was hailed as a watershed moment which sparked an outpouring of anger over women’s safety and shone a light on the epidemic of violence against women and girls.
But campaigners have said promises to tackle the crisis were “empty words” as they warned: “So much more needs to be done.”
The figures, shared with The Independent by the Femicide Census, showed at least 350 women have died with a man responsible or a principal suspect since Ms Everard’s death on 3 March 2021.
“That’s an average of one woman dead at the hands of a man every three days,” executive director Dr Karen Ingala Smith said.
Of these, eight in ten had a relationship with their killer, with 43 per cent killed by a former or current partner, 12 per cent by a family member, 15 per cent by a man who knew them.
Around 28 women – which accounts for eight per cent of cases – were killed by a stranger, like Ms Everard.
She added: “The figure of eight per cent of women killed by men in the UK being killed by a stranger is consistent with the average since our records began in 2009. So ask me whether anything has changed since Sarah’s murder, and my answer is no.”
The figures come after an inquiry into Ms Everard’s killer Wayne Couzens uncovered an astonishing string of blunders in the recruitment of the predator to the Metropolitan Police and eight missed opportunities to stop him in his tracks.
The 33-year-old marketing executive was walking home in Clapham, south London, when she was tricked by Couzens, who falsely arrested her before driving to Kent where he raped and strangled before dumping her burnt body in a woodland.
In the aftermath of her death, thousands of grieving women gathered for a vigil at Clapham Common calling for action to prevent to male violence against women and, simply, the right to walk home safely.
Anna Birley, co-founder of vigil organisers Reclaim These Streets, told The Independent: “We were promised that tackling violence against women and girls would be a priority for this government, but these figures show that this was all empty words.
“Women are still being murdered by men, demand for domestic violence services remains at record highs and rapes are still going unprosecuted.
“By failing to grasp the scale of the problem and failing to take meaningful action to keep us safe, this Government is failing women.”
Andrea Simon, director of the End Violence Against Women Coalition (EVAW), said each of the 350 women who have lost their lives in the last three years have been failed by society.
“While we’ve heard lots of promises and seen top level commitments to tackling violence against women in the last three years, there is so much more that needs to be done,” she told The Independent.
“There is a failure to prioritise preventing violence in all the work promised to tackle it. We need to see the police response to all forms of abuse improve, with better detection, early intervention, and protective steps taken when women report violence to reduce the risk of femicide.
“Police and justice agencies must take action to stop known perpetrators from frequently re-offending against women and girls.
“We must also see work to shift attitudes across society, including the sexism and male entitlement that drives violence against women and sees it normalised and trivialised.”
This starts with high quality education and well-funded public information campaigns, she said, adding: “Until we tackle harmful attitudes and the inequality that puts women and girls in harm’s way, we won’t be able to improve women’s feelings of safety and freedom.”
The calls come after this week Labour MP Jess Phillips read out the names of every woman killed last year in House of Commons, warning the “epidemic of violence against women and girls has not abated”.
She said: “All of these women mattered, they need to matter much more to politics. And I urge again, as I have for years, for the Government to have a strategy for reducing femicide. Warm words and no political priority will never make this list shorter.”
It is the ninth year that the MP has read victims’ names to the chamber, adding each life lost was a testament to failure to prioritise women’s safety.
She added: “I am tired that women’s safety matters so much less in this place than small boats. I am tired of fighting for systematic change and being given table scraps.
“Never again do I want to hear a politician say that lessons will be learned from abject failure - it is not true.
“This list is no longer just a testament to these women’s lives, it is a testament to our collective failure.”
Jhiselle Feanny, co-founder of Killed Women - a campaign group of families bereaved by male violence against women, described the latest figures as “devastating”.
She said: “Each represents a life brutally taken. And a family facing the unimaginable, their whole world destroyed. “Three years, so many lives, endless announcements, headlines, reviews, reports and lessons learned. And yet here we are, listening to the latest death toll read out in Parliament.”
She said attacks on women were “preventable crimes” after a survey of bereaved families last year found almost seven in ten believed their loved ones’ death was preventable, while two thirds said the killer had a prior history of violence.
“These deaths and injustices are not inevitable. The murders of women are not unavoidable tragedies, but preventable crimes,” Ms Feanny added.
“We urgently need decision and policy makers to act, so women can live free from fear, threat and violence.”
A government spokesperson said: “We are committed to tackling violence against women and improving the police response to these vile crimes. We have classified it as national threat alongside other threats such as terrorism and introduced the first ever dedicated national policing lead.
“The Angiolini inquiry has looked into issues around police culture and the government will continue to work with police partners to ensure that proper standards are upheld at all times.”
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CoD Western AU and Mail Order Spouse Trope
Howdy!
Welcome to my version of a Wild West AU & Mail-Order Spouse Trope. Introduction of the reader scenario will be down below and a little digital art will be added in to show our lovely options of spouses. This is Gender Neutral.
This was my first Au and trope project I’ve worked on. While I learn and decide how I want to upload this, I hope everyone enjoys or just gets a kick out of this!
Introduction & Backstory
Your life wasn’t awful, per se, but sometimes you wonder if you say that to yourself to cope with what you’ve been through. Simply put, you were your family's breadwinner, caretaker, and damage controller. You were poor-ish, where you had to use scraps of fabrics to make your clothes, but yet your father could always afford a bottle to be in his hand, and your mother out on the porch smoking whatever she needed that day to cope and try to be a mom and wife.
Coat of many colors indeed.
You worked, and you have worked from a young age to continuously support your family as you didn't have a choice if you wanted to keep the roof over your head. Although, you were thankful that your mother was adamant you went to the schoolhouse and got at least a good amount of education.
After attending school for a few years until puberty, you were in the working class; your job as a domestic servant included the taste of farmhand, tailoring, and working to cann fruits that were grown on the farm. After a long shift on the warm and humid spring day, you walked back home to hear your father yelling as usual but stopped when you heard your name being spoken.
“As soon as we sell that damn nuisance, we’ll be rolling in dough. I can’t believe that damn bastard politician wants our kin. Said once he’s back from his campaign up north he’ll come meet ‘em.” He laughs before taking another swig of his drink, your mother laughing along with him as she has a lit pipe in the house for the first time in a long time.
Now, you to truly understand the depravity of this; the seriousness of her celebrating with a lit drug inside the house.
Your stomach drops, nausea rolling over you at the thought of them selling you off to the old and decrepit wealthy politician for marriage to get money. Money that they’ll blow through, having never learned to control their vices turned addictions.
A cold sweat breaks out on you as you swallow down the urge to expel the minimal amount of food in your worn-out body, and promptly turn around and walk back into town.
Walking the dark streets, you navigate quietly and hide behind the shadows of the night with only a few dimly lit light posts flickering their oil flame light. While walking the edge of the closed shops, you see a dirty newspaper thrown on the ground and almost step over it until a small headline catches your eye.
“FRONTIER MEN, LOOKING FOR CAPABLE SPOUSE”
Your eyes scan quickly over the matrimony company advertising for men located in the frontier lands, each searching for promising spouses and wanting to marry soon. You read over the information, seeing that the listed men below are located in newly booming towns out west, a few even located in mining towns or having their own company.
Your body zings with a chill of adrenaline at the thought of diving head first into chance and change, but you knew something much better could be awaiting you…
Should you do it?
looking around, the humid and small town looks back at you as you enter a hardened state of mind; What would become if you stayed here? The disgusting politician's new toy just to break? Your parents are already planning on how to drain their funds dry within a month of letting their addictions take over? You don't have friends, your boss is the closest thing to one just because you spend hours each and every day working.
Yeah.
You're gonna fucking do it.
Taking a seat, your eyes quickly scan down the page of advertisements, looking over the small blurbs of descriptions offered. The correspondence cost would be 10 cents, meaning you have one chance to get his attention and get the new life you need.
Simon Riley
Biography, Meeting Simon,
John Price
Biography, Meeting John
Kyle Garrick
Biography, Meeting Kyle
John MacTavish
Biography, Meeting Johnny
Phillip Graves
Biography, Meeting Phillip
Alejandro Vargas
Biography, Meeting Alejandro
#john price x reader#task force 141#simon ghost riley x reader#john price#captain john price#simon ghost riley#simon ghost x reader#simon riley ghost#gaz mw2#gaz cod#john mactavish#johnny soap mactavish#john soap mactavish#phillip graves#commander graves#alejandro vargas#colonel vargas#Shadow company#los vaqueros#phillip graves x reader#alejandro vargas x reader#soap mactavish#captain mactavish#johnny mactavish x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#tf141 x reader#task force 141 x reader
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Looking forward to this prompt like always.
maybe they get slightly jealous while out, so they grab onto their partner's hand to establish their relationship
here it is! I have no idea what I just wrote but, you know, here we go:
—-
The Childhood Cancer Awareness Gala. If anything in Maura’s life is a black tie affair, it’s this. It comes once a year, in May, just as the spring gives way to summer temperatures, and, unfortunately, when the nascent MLB season really starts to take shape. Which usually means she takes a man, a doctor most times, instead of Jane: the person with whom she much prefers to attend these things. Not only is Jane Maura’s best friend - and thus makes it all genuinely more bearable - Jane has all the social skills Maura wishes she did when it came to fellow donors and hot shots. There are celebrities at this thing, for god’s sake. And that makes Maura nervous, especially since Jane so often has about five to eight games to catch up on by the time late May rolls around and refuses to come. Last time Maura had to bring a surgeon. But this year, by some miracle, the Red Sox have an off day on this Tuesday night, the same that the Gala is on.
And Maura had known this fact for months. In fact, as soon as the regular season schedule was released. That meant that she started her get-Jane-to-the-Gala campaign while snow still raged outside and the year had barely begun. It culminates in the black, strapless gown she wears now, the one showing off her tanned shoulders and her three hundred dollar haircut complete with layers and highlights and the smell of priceless product. There are heels that highlight her calves and make her ass look fantastic; there is a pendant on her neck that draws attention to her perfectly supported breasts. There’s even a diamond ring on her right ring finger, big and belonging once to her mother, because Jane likes to look at things that remind her of tradition.
And Maura had promised, not with words per se, but quite forcefully, quite convincingly, that Jane’s attendance would be worthwhile. The promise had consisted of some rather pointed modeling in the guest bedroom while Jane sat in a lounge chair and watched, of even more pointed half-states of undress, including dropping the garment in front of her with her heels still on so that she could bend over in the skimpiest pair of underwear appropriate for a platonic home fashion show that she owned. It also consisted of the subtle increase in hand jewelry, answers to Jane’s questions about it being, “My mother gave it to me. She couldn’t bring herself to wear it anymore; she finds such signs of commitment provincial. I vehemently disagree - especially when the signs are so exquisite. Don’t you think?”
Jane had sniffled. She’d stood, looking stiff and stupid as her mouth gaped at the ring Maura held out, before she finally said, “it’s on the wrong hand.”
Maura had chuckled warmly and replied, “for now.”
The stupidity intensified up until Jane mopped her jaw off the floor and excused herself to return upstairs. Maura then understood that she didn’t even need to invite Jane: she just needed to bring the Gala up.
That happened about two weeks after the ring incident, which was about two weeks after the dress fitting. Maura stood in front of the vanity in her bedroom’s en suite, rubbing a European moisturizer into the skin just over her cheek bones. “You know, the Childhood Cancer Awareness Gala is on the 28th this year,” she said with the most practiced nonchalance as she frowned to get more of the product into her pores.
Jane had grunted. She leaned against the threshold to the bathroom and crossed her arms, using tox results for their current case as the excuse to be in Mauara’s inner sanctum. Maura had at least given her the courtesy of relaying those lab results before bringing the fundraiser up. “‘S an off day,” Jane said.
Maura made a curious sound. “Hmm. Really?”
“Yeah,” Jane confirmed. “Want me to tag along?”
Maura pursed her lips so she didn’t smile. Jane isn’t hers. But she knows a secret: Jane wants to be, and so she admits she played a little dirty to have gotten Jane to accompany her.
Honestly, though, that was the nonverbal content of Maura’s promise: go, and becoming mine is a distinct, dirty possibility for you. “I’d like that,” she told Jane. “Do you need something to wear?”
She knew what Jane would say. Well, she knew the answer. Jane ended up saying, “I”ve seen what you’re wearing; I think I can cobble something together.”
Contrary to what even Jane herself might have believed, Maura hadn’t wanted to go shopping for Jane anyway - she wanted it on the table that Jane would be dressing to compliment her. Because that meant Jane in a suit. And Maura is attracted to the Jane she knows, not the Jane she can conjure by draping her in couture.
And so, Jane is here, at the Childhood Cancer Awareness Gala, in May, instead of in front of a ballgame somewhere. Jane is here in a suit, with a very expensive white silk shirt under the jacket, with a sleeker, more understated boot than the aggressive block heel she often wears to work, her hair wild and beautiful and the perfect compliment to her sharp features.
It is, by all accounts as Maura returns from the restroom, a win. A complete victory on all fronts. Except, that is, Jane stands close to Doctor Melissa Henry - world renowned OBGYN and overall knockout - listening intently enough, leaning in close enough, to hear above the sociable din.
Jane’s long fingers hold her champagne flute by the rim, the drink Maura had procured for her long before the trip to the restroom, and Jane hasn’t touched it. Hasn’t had a sip. Which, of course not, because Doctor Henry is Puerto Rican and curvaceous and a genius. Why would Jane interrupt her spell to imbibe?
Doctor Henry leans close and says something into Jane’s ear, Jane who turns into the gesture yet again, and suddenly, they are both chuckling. And by god, it’s Jane’s handsome chuckle - the one that crinkles the corners of her eyes and bestows upon her a crooked little grin.
Normally, Maura respects the hell out of Doctor Henry as a leader in the field of women’s medicine. She’s serious and principled and warm… and that’s the damn problem. Maura did a fucking bend and snap to get Jane here (thank Jane’s modern media bootcamp for that particularly relevant reference); she’s not letting go this easily.
And again, she intends to fight dirty.
She marches across the crowded ballroom to where the two women stand, where Doctor Henry places a steadying hand on Jane’s shoulder because her heels are tall and her ankles are crossed. A man bumps into a deadset Maura, by accident, but it only fuels her resolve. She continues, gaze forward, back straight, clutch in front of her hips (the ones that sway as she walks), until she approaches Jane and Doctor Henry. Then she stops.
For all her missing of social mores, Maura can synthesize the details of a situation like no other. So just as she approaches, she comes up to Jane’s left, because Jane’s right is occupied with the champagne. And also, coincidentally, Doctor Henry. All for the better, though, because this means that for her next act, the ring on her hand can do all the heavy lifting, even if it’s a mirror image of where it’s supposed to be.
Her fingers find the ones at Jane’s side, and they slither between them. Once they’re all but entwined, she drags them up, skin brushing as they curl, just before manicured fingers scratch Jane’s palm one time. Then as she fans them back out, down and united again, she kisses Jane’s covered shoulder. Jane shivers and Maura knows it’s because of the metal rubbing on her ring finger. “My mother’s bete noir is here,” she says into the fabric of Jane’s jacket, relishing the delicate scratch against her gloss-softened lips. “The feud is as alive as ever.”
Boom.
Between the touching and the comment just for her, she’s got Jane. She knows she’s got Jane because instead of a statement about how rude it is not to greet the third party, Jane says in that gravel-rich timbre, “she still telling the story about how her daughter styled… who?”
“The Roman Prince of Cerveteri? At least once a function,” Maura replies quickly, all as she turns her gaze on Doctor Henry. “So sorry, Melissa - family issues. You know how it is.”
Family. Issues.
Jane stiffens further, grows warmer; Maura knows there’s blushing even if she can only see Melissa Henry’s straight-out-of-a-catalog face.
“That I do,” Doctor Henry says. Gracefully she steps away from Jane. Is that a bit of fear Maura sees, too? “Do uh, do you two need a drink? I think I’m headed to the bar.”
Jane smiles with her lips closed and simply holds up her champagne flute. I’ve got plenty.
“I’ve had enough for the evening, but thank you,” Maura answers with a cordial smile.
When Doctor Henry walks away after a nod and a smirk of her own, Jane snorts. “I don’t think she’s coming back,” she says.
“God, I hope not,” says Maura. When Jane, without letting go of Maura’s hand, downs her entire drink and steps close enough for their fronts to touch, Maura honors the nonverbal request for an embrace by wrapping her free arm around Jane’s shoulders. “When you’re here, when you accompany me to these events, you’re mine,” she asserts with a growl of her own.
“I’m yours all the time,” Jane counters. She rests her head in the crook of Maura’s neck because in heels, Maura is tall enough.
Maura squeezes, and laughs lowly. “I know.”
#lauren writes rizzoli and isles fanfiction#rizzoli and isles#otp prompts February 2024#featuring Neanderthal Jane#and also Neanderthal Maura apparently lol#I just know they went home and fucked nasty after this
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Yu Yu Hakusho WEBKUJI Volume 11
~capture a moment~
The 11th Yu Yu Hakusho Web Lottery has been announced! The boys are sexy and gorgeous.
Official Site: WEBKUJI
Lottery type: BOX type
Sales period: April 27 to June 11, 2024
Shipping: mid to late August 2024
Price: 750 yen/ticket
Prizes:
Prize A: BIG die-cut Cushion
Size: H300mm x W700mm
Material: Suede, filling
Prize B: BIG Acrylic Stands (7 types)
Size: Maximum height 235mm (depending on the chara)
Material: Acrylic (3mm thick)
Price C: Tumblers (6 types)
Size: H135mm x φ85mm
Material: PP
Prize D: Lid Mascots (14 types)
A revival item using illustrations from past WEB lotteries! You can put it on the lid of a plastic bottle!
Acrylic size: H70mm x W50 / Cap size: H16.7mm x φ34
Body material: Acrylic (3mm thick) / Cap part: PE
Prize E: A4 Art Board (8 types)
The English quotes are really cool!
Size: H297mm x W210mm (A4)
Material: Cardboard (interleaving paper)
Prize F: Large Can Badges (7 types)
Size: φ76mm
Material: Tinplate
Benefits:
Last Win: Life-size Tapestries (7 types, available only online)
If you draw all the tickets in the box, you will receive a tapestry! You can choose your favorite character from a total of 7 types.
Size: H1880mm x W700mm
Material: Polyester (suede)
Last Win: Younger Toguro Cushion (available only at stores)
If you draw all the tickets in the box, you will receive a Younger Toguro die-cut cushion!
The back of Younger Toguro's cushion comes with his famous quote: "Pure strength beyond technique - that's power!! ".
Gift Campaign: Photo Chance
Those who get the in-store limited "last win prize" (Younger Toguro Cushion) can enter the campaign to win an Elder Toguro die-cut cushion. 10 people will be randomly selected from among the customers.
To participate, you need to follow the WEBKUJI X account and post a photo of the Younger Toguro Cushion with the hashtags: #幽遊白書 and #WEBくじ_フォトチャン
The back of Elder Toguro's cushion comes with his famous quote: "I often break my promises".
Purchase Bonus: Postcard (7 types)
You will receive a random postcard for every 5 items purchased per transaction!
Size: H148mm x W100mm
Material: Paper
One more Chance: Acrylic Panel
10 people will be randomly selected from among the customers who purchased lottery tickets to receive an acrylic panel as a gift! Those who purchased the tickets at the store can apply using the serial code on the lottery ticket stub.
Size: H150mm x W235mm
Material: Acrylic (3mm thick), metal (foot parts)
#Yu Yu Hakusho WEBKUJI Volume 11 ~capture a moment~#Yusuke Urameshi#Kurama#Hiei#Youko Kurama#Kazuma Kuwabara#Older Toguro#Younger Toguro#Toguro Brothers
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“I hope this message finds you in good health and spirits.
My name is Sanaa Odeh, currently in Gaza, occupied Palestine. I am writing this as a plea for survival, for a future for my family and myself.
Our lives are in immediate danger, with non stop explosions everyday and every night, tanks and guns all around us, and fear as a constant companion. It is a non-stop nightmare, every minute of every day, for 6 months. Everyday is a struggle for survival. Lack of food and clean water creating a crisis of death by starvation and dehydration.
Despite the endless nightmare, we are a resilient and strong family. My beautiful parents gave everything to raise us as successful daughters and we are so proud of what we have achieved.
I work as a graphic designer and my sisters: a nurse/educator, small business owner, a medical student, and a field coordinator. Despite being on the path to rich and promising futures, it can all be taken away in any moment. We have already lost several family members, including my uncles and their entire family. There is little hope that the situation will end soon, all of us waiting for our turn next.
We are looking to seek asylum in Belgium. This campaign will help support us in covering the costs to do so, specifically in covering the evacuation costs per person. Your donation will provide us with the chance to escape the endless horror we’ve been facing for the last 6 months and give us a chance to return to a safe, normal life again, where we can once again contribute positively to society.
I understand that this is a challenging time for everyone right now, but please do not underestimate what even £5 can contribute to especially when it all adds up. It really does make a huge difference. No matter how small the contribution it can still change our entire lives.
Thank you for taking the time to read our story, your support means the world to us. Whether it is simply sharing our campaign or donating, it makes all the difference in the world to us. Your act of kindness can bring light to our darkest days and help us build a better future.
Thank you once again for all your support and kindness
With heartfelt gratitude,
Sanaa and Sujood”
#I saw this shared on Twitter and it got lots of traction#But unfortunately very little donations#please share and donate#palestine#gaza
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(this is 1000% to try and stop myself from bed rotting or hurkle durkling as I have been wont to do lately when I have no plans)
I think the past polls like this have also stipulated I’ll work on all of them for ten minutes each per vote?? Am I remembering this right?? I’m down to promise that again 💙🥰
#obikin#these are just the AUs that came to mind while waiting for my train#any not tagged are not dead nor forgotten!!!!#a vote for a fic here is a vote against hurkle durkling#and a vote for Kits mental health
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I saw a thread on Twitter about how FCG and Orym are the two people that would intentionally murder a party member. They even connected that to them being friends of the gods.
(Which is a whole other thing because canon Orym has been more critical of the gods than CR Twitter finds it convenient to admit - “the gods show up when they want”)
Meanwhile, Laudna *literally* trying to feed Delilah FCG’s soul vía Hunger of the Shadow. Of course when that was pointed out to the OP by someone else on Twitter they refused to engage at all.
I know im preaching to the choir but it’s so blatant and infuriating
It really is, and I think the one-two punch of freaking out over FCG and then, when that did not receive a single millisecond of acknowledgment in-game, freaking out over Orym from, again, an episode that aired quite literally three months ago, made a lot of people realize how fucking tired they are of the blatant and infuriating nonsense, week after week.
The gods argument is honestly just a backdrop at this point; per the latest 4SD Imogen is actually leaning towards "hmm, maybe having the structures in place that prevented demon incursion was a good thing", which is actually 100% in line with Keyleth's position of "I don't personally worship the gods and I even have my issues with them, but I recognize they are pretty fundamental to our cosmology and would prefer that the world not fucking fall apart because of an evil wizard." Like, if Laudna were to hypothetically get freed from Delilah by a god? I promise you like half the people would, as they have on so many other things, rapidly flip flop to continue being on the side of Black Heart and/or Purple Heart.
I do actually think Orym would, if necessary, kill someone in the party to save the world. I don't think he'd revel in it, but I think he would. I also think that fucking slaps. Fjord is my favorite Campaign 2 character, and he was famously the character whom Caleb asked to kill him quickly as a called in favor. Like Fjord, Orym doesn't want to die, but I think he will kill or die for the cause, and I think that's great, because this is fiction and that's fucking fun to watch in fiction! Like, *Liam voice* THIS IS A GAME! I have one last ask in my inbox and I think I'll call it a night after that because I have things to do, and I'll elaborate here, but so many bad takes seem to treat characters as real people, and it's like of course I don't wish death on real people for being boring, of course I don't want real people to kill or die for a cause, but sometimes? In fiction? Where the people are pretend? Yeah! I fucking do! Where are these people on Twitter from? Focus on the Found Family?
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As per my previous campaign promises--
If I'm Sorry, Teenage Mutant What Now? Leo and Usagi ever met, it'd probably be in the future, and it would probably be the first yokai Leo would ever try to date, and there would probably be,,, a learning curve,,,
#sorrywhatnowau#lmao im sorry#im sure this is not what yall were imagining#when you requested leosagi#BUT ITS ALL I CAN THINK OF#WHEN I IMAGINE TMWN LEOSAGI#leosagi#rottmnt leo#yuichi usagi#rise of the turtles#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#tmnt#rottmnt au#rottmnt human au#tmnt 2018#teenage mutant ninja turtles donnie#fidgetwing#rottmnt comics
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maybe a jason carver smut where reader helps him ‘celebrate’ (iykyk 🥴) after the tigers win a game? (sub reader)
one of these nights - jason carver
I don’t really see Jason as a dom, I definitely do see him as a complete virgin though
cw! underage drinking, alcohol mention, hellfire!reader, handjob, unprotected sex, cum eating, praising and slight overstim
sexual content ahead : proceed with caution
It’d been a couple of months since you started secretly seeing Jason Carver behind your party’s backs. You knew they’d never forgive you, for taking a liking to The Asshole of Hawkins High. Well, at least that’s what they called him.
Sometimes you were tempted to tell them to not he so hard on the star basketball player, but you knew they’d find it suspicious. Just like how they found it suspicious that Jason and his stupid team’s teasing had let up. Unbeknownst to them, it was because you were sneaking around with who they hated the most.
But after all those years of constant glares, sneers and insults, you somehow found yourself giggling in the back of Jason’s car as he peppered soft kisses on your face and neck. ‘Warming up for my most important play of the year.’ Was what he called it. Well excused it. It was risky, especially during lunch when everyone was out walking around in the parking lot trying to find friends and such. Anyone could peek through the car window and expose what would be the talk of the rest of the year.
You knew being apart of Hellfire meant being caught parading around with a jock, of all people would cause unwanted rumors, gossip and opinions to stain your already soiled reputation. It’s not like you were a bad kid, no, you were far from it, sure you stayed out late and messed around, in the safety of Gareth’s garage, practicing your next song until it was midnight. But its not like you were hurting anyone.
But you weren’t naive about the things you were doing either. You knew you’d be called a snake, a whore, anything with a negative connotation for leading Jason from the life untouched by freaks. But if Jason didn’t care, then neither should you.
You two figured that once you both graduated, that you’d leave town once Jason was set off for college, his parents offered to get him an apartment separate from the campus so he would have his own free time, and Jason promised that he’d take you with him, that after he graduated university, that you two could just ditch whatever life his parents and town had wanted for him.
It made you feel bad sometimes, that maybe everyone was right and you were just an illness, a disease, plaguing his mind with ideas far from righteousness. But fuck, you forgot all about that when you got to sneak out and enjoy time with your boyfriend.
Even when you two were away, you couldn’t stop thinking about that damn fantasy. About finally having something you could rub in the town’s face. L
You were anxious all day, first, you had your final campaign with your friends after school. Second, Jason had wracked your nerves along with his, worrying about playing his heart out in a game that could bring pride back go the Tigers. But you tried your best to stay calm.
After what felt like forever, the final bell of the day rang, and you rushed to find your usual spot to meet up with Jason and give him, his much begged for, good luck kiss. You exchanged some words of encouragement before setting off to your usual after school spot.
There sat your party leader, Eddie, revved up, per usual. He had a big goofy grin on his face and you returned it. “Ah, Y/N, I hope you’re ready for what is about to come.” You stifled a low giggle and sat tall in your seat. “Now why wouldn’t I be, you think I’m scared?”
Eddie laughed heartily, patting your shoulder as he waited for the arrival of your party members.
When you all finally defeated Vecna, you felt like you were going to pass out. You could only wonder how the basketball game had gone.
Packing up your things you headed out of the barely lit school. Trying to spot Jason as people filed out of the gymnasium. Gareth had offered his place for celebration but you declined as the rest of the guys tagged along. Eddie took off to do whatever he did but you stood, waiting.
When at least ten minutes had passed you grew wary, maybe Jason was going to celebrate with his friends, its not like you could boss him around. You pushed yourself off the wall you were leaning against and began to make your way to the pay phone to call Gareth to come pick you up. As you picked up the phone you were pulled into a massive hug.
You smiled to yourself, feeling Jason’s nose press into your neck. He was so happy, his senior year was almost finished, his team had won their final game and the love of his life was in his arms. “I think I’m dreamin’ sweetheart.” Jason muttered into your ear.
You turned and cupped Jason’s face, he looked star struck. “Oh? Do you need me to pinch you?” Jason’s smile grew and he pulled you flush against his chest. “No I need you to kiss me.”
Slapping his arm, you wrapped your arms around Jason’s neck and pulled him in for a chaste kiss, pulling away as he chased your lips for more. Before you could come up with a comment to further tease him, you heard his friends call for him. The both of you jumped, trying to collect yourselves as Jason turned around and gave them an award winning smile, while you ducked your head and moved so they wouldn’t see you.
“Jason, we’re gonna head to Benny’s you comin’ or not? We invited some smokin’ cheerleaders.” Jason wrapped his arm around your shoulders, quickly coming up with a lie about going home to grab something and bring back more beers. Once the group pulled off, Jason turned his attention back to you.
“What do you wanna do baby?” Jason walked you to his car, his letterman thrown across your body. You climbed into his car, quickly warming up with the heater. “Mm anything really, we can hang for a while then you can go drink with your buddies if you want?” You smiled over at Jason, pulling his jacket closer to you.
“Nah, I don’t think I wanna celebrate with them this time. I oughta but, I think a championship deserves more than alcohol.” You giggled, wondering if Jason was as naive as he sounded. “Oh? What does a champion like you deserve that’s worth more than that?”
You wouldn’t push it just yet, waiting until you got home to go in for the biggest tease. “Mm not sure, beer does sound very valuable to a winner huh?”
Pulling into the driveway, you pretended to think about the question hangin in the air. Jason was quick to wrap his arm around you as he made his way to his room. Plopping down on his bed as you sat in front of him.
“I mean, if you really want to go with your teammates, it’ll be alright with me.” Good, why not play dumb, even with loads of sexual ideas piled in your mind. Why pass up on a perfect chance to finally have sex with your boyfriend? Under the guise of celebrating that is.
“No, I’d much rather spend time with you than them.” Jason smiled up at you, without a damn clue of the growing sexual tension. “I mean, I do have an idea on what we could do but as long as you’re okay with it.”
Jason was confused, you didn’t need his permission for an idea, it’s not like it was anything dangerous right? “Of course, you know I’m on board with all of your ideas.” It made your stomach flutter with nervousness.
You reached out to touch Jason’s knee, he cocked his head in confusion until you traced your fingers up his thigh. He swallowed, flushing with embarrassment as you gazed up at him through your lashes for approval. “Oh.. do you really want to..?”
Humming a soft ‘yes’ you tugged at his belt. Once Jason got the message, he quickly, and sloppily pulled it off. You pulled away, patting Jason’s legs so you could get into a lotus-esc position. “Take your khakis off.”
And Jason obeyed, sucking in a breath as you palmed him and reached into his boxers to grab his hard on. “You don’t have to Y/N..”
“Oh but I want to. You earned it Jason, enjoy it.” He nodded, jerking his hips into your hand as you began to slowly circle your thumb across his slit. He’d always thought about this moment, always imagined it being much more romantic than this but you both were already too far gone to start over.
You pulled Jason’s boxers down a bit further, going back to grab him. Hearing Jason’s breath hitch and shudder made you squirm in your pants. Dragging your fist up, you looked back up at Jason, watching as his face contorted.
He rested his head on you shoulder as your movements gained more fluidity. It was driving him insane, having you touching him so. Jason moaned into your ear as you gripped the base of his cock a little tighter. Fuck he didn’t if he was gonna last very long.
“Mm feels good. ‘So good to me.” Jason was surely drunk off of the pleasure. His words slurring was he grabbed your wrist and forearm. “M’ close.”
He bucked his hips up into your hand, knowing his release was going to hit him like a freight train. All he needed was your soft words of encouragement.
“Go ahead baby, I don’t mind.” You whispered into Jason’s shoulder, feeling him shiver before whining into your neck. You watched as cum dribbled down your knuckles and waited for Jason to catch his breath.
You pulled away, bringing your palm up to your mouth as you licked Jason’s release off of your skin. He groaned at the sight, before beginning to peel his shirt off. Encouraging you to do the same.
Jason pulled you back into his arms, beginning to press open mouthed kisses to your skin. You sighed say he dragged his teeth against your collarbone.
“We don’t have to have so much foreplay Jason.” If anything, foreplay was turning you off, you were already so riled up.
You laid down on Jason’s sheets, waiting for him to pull off your panties and his boxers. He was nervous, he didn’t wanna hurt you but he wanted you so much.
He pushed his tip into your already wet hole, trying not to moan as your pussy wrapped around his dick. You were wetter than he imagined, your sopping cunt was coating him in juices. It helped him push into you, his tip kissing your cervix as he fisted the sheets.
You let him know you were ready, and Jason began to drag his cock against your walls, forcing a soft moan out of your throat. He grabbed at your hips, trying to stabilize himself before he came too early.
He picked up a soft pace as you both got used to the feeling. Your soft whimpers and moans complimented his low grunts and pants. Jason was embarrassed, hearing loud, wet squelching come from your cunt as he picked up a deeper and harder pace.
You grabbed at his muscly arms, digging your nails into his skin as he thrusted into you. Gasping as he leaned foreword, angling your hips up to reach that extra sensitive part of your pussy.
“Mm baby, ‘feel so good, ‘love you so much.” Jason mumbled into your ear, finally letting out moans and whimpers as you wrapped your legs around his waist.
Jason’s thrusts were sloppy and unpaced, he could withstand hours of practice for sports but he could not last when it came to you. All that leg power and stamina had gone down the drain when you moaned into Jason’s ear and and wrapped your arms around his back and bucked your hips up into his pelvis.
Happy trail stimulating your clit as you neared your orgasm. You pawed at Jason’s hand, attempting to push it between the two of you as he rocked the bed. You showed him what you wanted and threw your head back as Jason’s calloused thumb rubbed figure 8’s on your clit.
“Right there Jason-baby, ‘love you too.” You pulled back, kissing Jason as you clenched your thighs around his hips, trapping him in your pussy as you clenched around him and came. Your muscles twitched as you felt Jason pick up his pace just for a moment before pushing you up against the headboard.
Humping your hips as he came again. Once you released Jason, he pulled out, cum coating his dick as he did his best to gather all of the remaining juices leaking from your hole before pushing it all back in.
Jason laid right next to you, panting as he look up at you dreamily. “How was that for celebrating?” You giggled, watching Jason blush again.
“It was amazing sweetheart, you were amazing, I love you.” You smiled at Jason, pushing back hair that was sticking to his forehead. “I love you too.”
He wrapped an arm around your torso, pulling you close to him as he stared off into space. “What do you wanna do now?” You grinned cherishly at him.
Still so thickskulled. “Dunno, we could always go again, you did win two games in a row right?” You climbed on top of Jason, watching as his eyes blew wide open. “Whatever you want.”
#stranger things season 4#stranger things x reader#jason carver#jason carver x reader#jason carver smut#spotfiy#one of these nights#eagles
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As promised, the FAQ for The Fallow Year! Text version below cut:
How does the math work?
For non-math girlies: the more people preorder at independent bookstores, the faster the stories will be released. For the fellow human spreadsheets: imagine two fundraising thermometers, one for preorders overall, and one for indie store preorders. Each one has a goal for first story, second, third, etc., and once one of them clears that goal, the story gets posted. So the first story will be released once we clear either 100 indie preorders, or 200 preorders overall. Fast forward a bit: the seventh story will be released when we clear either 700 cumulative indie preorders, OR 1400 preorders overall.
What qualifies as an independent bookstore?
No big nationwide chains/corporations like Amazon, B&N, Half-Price Books, Waterstones, Target, etc., Small local chains/stores will count. So will Bookshop dot org orders, but most indie stores can and will take online orders and ship to you.
What if we don’t clear all the goals?
That’ll sure be embarrassing for me! But really, if that happens, I’ll release whatever stories we have left…the day before Holy Terrors comes out.
Can you still read HT without reading these?
Yes. TFY previews a couple things that show up in HT, but you can skip them and be fine.
What if I’m waiting for a special edition/it’s not available in my country yet?
That’s okay! I suspect this campaign is going to slow down after the initial flurry, so later preorders will come in handy then.
Is this the only preorder campaign?
It’s too early to talk preorder campaigns with my publishers, but hold onto those receipts!
Is each story in multiple POVs?
One POV per story, and it alternates; about a month passes between each too. Emeric will start us off on the morning of May 1st, then the second story will shift to Vanja in June.
Why AO3?
Low barrier of entry plus ease of use. Anyone can read the posts with or without an account, there’s no character limit, and let’s be real: it’s kind of hilarious.
If you have any other questions, feel free to send them in, and I’ll get to them as I can!
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So...Them's Fightin' Herds is an indie game that was released for $40 and raised $586k on Indiegogo and got pretty popular in some communities. It had the promise of more content, as per its $40 price and campaign goals, and was, and still is, an unfinished game. It has more planned characters and an unfinished but planned story mode.
And now they've announced that they're ceasing development. Despite people buying the game at its $40 price because it was going to have more content. They'll release a few things, but then only work on bug fixes and such. The story mode won't be finished. The game won't be finished.
So, yeah, be careful and stay away from purchasing this game. It is a scam*. They apparently gave reasons as to why it ceased development in their Discord (which is like, why should you have to join that to know?), but, regardless, this is an incredibly shitty thing to do and is a situation that warrants refunds (but isn't). If you want to buy it, go ahead, but just be aware of these things. This absolutely sucks as I thought this game seemed super fun and I even wanted to get it. I am so glad now that I didn't.
*(I don't mean scam the way a lot of crowdfunding games can have bad experiences where they just make the money and run without any product, I just mean that people crowdfunded with expectations of certain things being fulfilled like story mode and also paying $40 for the game with these things not being completed. I don't think it is a literal scam, I just mean that it sucks/is expensive/its crowdfunding doesn't fulfill on itself. My wording is not literal and I am unsure what alternative word to get my meaning across. I am exaggerating/using the word "scam" colloquially.)
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CHAPTER 2 (1091 words)
The class settled down seeing Mrs. Richard enter. Yn resumes his place back behind beomgyu who was still busy reading god knows what. Mrs. Richard clears her throat, commanding the students’ attention. “as you all know, the student council elections are approaching, and it’s time to kickstart the campaign process.”
Several groans and murmurs echoed throughout the classroom, after all the elections were a big deal, coming along with a long list of responsibilities and expectations.
“as per our tradition,” Mrs. Richard continued, “the previous year’s president and vice president will be responsible for organizing and managing the campaign. Organizing and conducting multiple rounds of elections and keeping them in order requires teamwork and cooperation”
All eyes turned to beomgyu the former president and yn the former vice Prez. Hushed whispers erupting once again. With a knowing look, Mrs. Richard announced, “yn and beomgyu, you two will work together to ensure a smooth flowing election this year.”
Yn’s jaw tightened and beomgyu’s playful smile faltered a but at the idea proposed. Mrs. Richard, unfazed by the reactions, fixated her gaze on the notorious duo, “I expect you both put your differences aside and be civil, also meet me in the staff room after the class is dismissed.”
As Mrs. Richard spoke, yn and beomgyu exchanged one lingering glance, silently cursing for being forced to work together- again.
A groan left yn as he rested his head down on the desk, still thinking about the unexpected partnership at the very first week of their senior grade. Mrs. Richard on the other hand went on and on about some fucking emperor and whatever shit he did in his reign. Yn wasn’t interested in that though, his mind wondered what would happen if he were to fail, this ‘partnership’ he had been forced into.
“Mrs. Richard, you called for us?” yn said garnering attention of his teacher. The said teacher glanced at the duo- beomgyu standing behind yn looking bored. “yn, my child, glad you’re here. here,” she handed the folder of a bunch of papers,
“this folder contains the past years’ student council plans and a report on how the previous leaders handled it. I thought it would help you two out, so I fished it out for you. Oh- there’s also a list of students who have registered their name to run for a place in the student council, I believe you two can work great if you were to put your differences aside” Mrs. Richard ended handing over the folder.
“I appreciate it immensely Mrs. Richard. I promise I will do my best to carry out the student council elections” yn says with an assuring smile, pleased with how much his teacher had put into work.
Beomgyu, although uninterested, managed to get out a half-hearted acknowledgement. “yeah, we’ll cooperate”
‘maybe this will work!’
“vice prez, meet me after school?” beomgyu said catching up to yn who was about to leave.
“can’t today, I have work unlike you beomgyu, i'll let you know when ill be free, then we can schedule a meet up” yn said pursing his lips, ready to head home for the day.
“listen, I’m also busy after school, okay? It’s just that I want this to be over as soon as possible” beomgyu replied.
Yn raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “busy doing what exactly?”
“I know its hard to believe but I have a life outside school, Einstein” beomgyu chuckled.
yn’s phone rang, interrupting their bickering, “gotta go choi, see you never.”
Beomgyu watched yn as he answered his phone with a mis of amusement and mild irritation. “always so busy,” he muttered to himself as yn walked away.
Seeing yn walk away, beomgyu couldn’t help but smile, shaking his. “see you never huh? We’ll see about that,” he said softly to no one in particular.
Beomgyu decided he wouldn't get affected by Yn's apparent busyness. He knew he had to find a way to get in touch with him to discuss about the upcoming student council meeting after all that was the main reason Beomgyu had held up the latter. As Yn left, Beomgyu reached for his phone and began to search for any potential leads.
He started by scrolling through his contact list, hoping that maybe he had unknowingly saved Yn's number at some point. But after a few minutes of fruitless trying, he sighed in frustration. "No luck there," he muttered to himself.
Beomgyu then turned to social media, trying to find any hints or clues that might lead him to Yn's number. He scoured Yn's profiles on various platforms, hoping to find a shred of information that could help him.
As the night rolled around, Beomgyu continued his search, and the frustration grew. He even considered asking some of his classmates if they had Yn's number, but he knew that might raise suspicions he didn't want.
Just as he was about to give up, a message notification popped up on his screen. It was Yn. Beomgyu's heart skipped a beat as he eagerly opened the message, not knowing why his heart did so.
Yn's message read: "Couldn't you just ask Yeonjun for my number?"
Beomgyu felt a mix of relief and embarrassment wash over him. Yn's suggestion was so simple and practical, yet he had let his frustration cloud his judgment. He quickly typed out a response, "You're right. My bad."
He hit send and waited anxiously for a response, the seconds felt like hours as he stared at the black screen to light up.
Finally, a message popped up on the screen. He eagerly opened it to find yn’s reply: “I’m free after my afternoon classes, wanna meet up then?”
Beomgyu couldn’t help but smile as he typed his reply, “tomorrow works for me, meet me at the café across the west building?”
Yn’s response came quickly, “cool, see ya then, after 3:00 PM tho”
Beomgyu and yn flopped on their beds simultaneously, feeling a bit giddy after their little chat. Phone close to his heart, yn drifted into deep slumber almost immediately while beomgyu couldn’t help but let out a dorky smile because of god knows whom.
As the night passed by, beomgyu waited eagerly for the next day to arrive, he didn’t understand why their meeting was keeping him on his toes or why he was looking forward to their café ‘date’. Is that what he’s supposed to call it? He wonders.
Woah, when did he start thinking about yn like that?! Get your head straight beomgyu! Yn’s your rival, sworn enemy even. He reminded himself.
Prev. M.list next.
Please let me know if any mistakes, I hope y'all like the new part!
#txt#tomorrow by together#txt post#txt x male reader#txt x reader#male reader#txt yeonjun#txt beomgyu#choi beomgyu x male reader
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