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#like when i first saw him in the trailer i was like: where have u been in all my life
hoshigray · 7 months
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MAPPA gave Nanami such beautiful hands that they never fail to make you feel things.
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a/n: Bye, the trailer JUST came out, and I can't get over how good they made Nanami, so I'm writing out this to put myself together. @satoruhour pushed me on to write this so ty swee-T-pie, love u sm 💓 this is just like when they released that hidden inventory trailer and i drooled over Toji's hands help 💀 so yeah this is just me writing a short smthn for kento's hands, sorry not sorry. also tysm for 1.9k!!!
cw: Nanami x fem/afab! reader - first soft then smutty, so minors DNI - h@nd h0lding - soft dom! Nanami bc yes - fingering (f! receiving) - hand kink (ig?) - fingers in reader's mouth - pet names (angel, love, sweet girl) - praise - clitoral play - you and Nanami in a cute domestic relationship ♡
wc: 950
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You love Kento Nanami's hands. It's no secret to yourself because it's the truth. But you can't blame yourself; you can't help it! There are so many moments with him where you can't help but admire the man's big hands, and honestly, it's embarrassing at this point. It's a guilty pleasure that makes you feel such pleasant emotions, makes you want him more and more.
Even before the two of you expressed courtship, there were days when you'd encounter and have idle chitchat with the stoic man, and those were days that were hard to go through when you had such a tremendous crush on the guy. So much so that you'd drift your gaze away from his feline mocha eyes masked by his eyepiece. Instead, you'd look at his hands, admiring how beautiful and big they are. Aside from his face, they were the only thing visible from his dapper suit. Not that you complained, though. The more you saw and talked with Nanami, the more you marveled at his hands in your thoughts.
And when you two finally started dating, things were going slow and steady. Just as the two of you wanted — no rush at all. But a memory you hold dear to your heart was when the two of you walked home in the cold winter. The chilly breeze sent shivers down your spine, and your nose found breathing tricky in the extreme temperature change. Not to mention you forgot your mittens at home. Just my luck...
However, it wasn't all that bad. After all, your boyfriend (it felt a little weird calling him that) offered to walk you to your place, sticking close to your side, which was a rarity back then. Heat finally found its way up to your cold cheeks when Nanami took the initiative to grab ahold of your hand with his, the size difference making it easy to exchange warmth. "Here," he said so nonchalantly it almost felt like a dream. "Don't want the wind to blow you off the sidewalk." It was such an airy gag from the usually silent man, yet you chuckled and held his hand tighter, the cold overlooked throughout the rest of the walk.
Even watching him doing the most ordinary things is a sight. Whether he's washing dishes, making the bed, or cutting vegetables for the next meal he was cooking for you two, your eyes would always find their way to his deft hands. Rugged palms moving swiftly and gracefully, veins that stem from the back trail upwards to his forearm, and thick fingers with scars so faded with time that you'd have to be very close to see them. You're so in love with him — with his hands. They make you feel safe and secure, warm and loved. Specifically in times when you two are close to each other. Whether it's you resting on his chest as he reads a book while rubbing circles on your back or holding hands with you two walking around the vicinity, it couldn't get any better.
...Well, perhaps now as you're lying on the bed with your back to his chest, succumbing to his touch as one hand cups your cheeks while the other burrows inside your panties — his fingers intruding between your folds and playing with your leaky entrance staining the underwear with your come.
"Ooooh, Kentooo..." You moan to his thick digits in your vulva, scraping your spongey walls that result in high wails. He rubs your cheeks and maneuvers your face to the side so he can lay kisses on your neck, and you melt under his lips with a blissful hum.
"Open your legs a bit more for me, angel." His command is hushed to your ears. You follow his instructions and spread your legs further apart, and he rewards you with another finger added to your chasm. Now both the fore and middle digits slide deep into you, and the brush of his thumb on your clit results in sudden wails. "Good, that's my sweet girl."
His fingers graze your insides expertly, having you writhe on him with how good he's making you feel with just his fingers alone. The speed of his digits increases by the second, and you can feel the wave start rising in your body. Your body jolts with every scrape of his fingertips, pornographic whines fly out your mouth, and your face gets hotter and hotter.
"Haaaah!! Mmnnn...Kento, I'm so close. 'S so close, I'm—Mmmph!?" You don't get to finish that sentence when Nanami stuffs his free fingers into your mouth, your tongue immediately coating the two digits with your saliva.
"Go on, come on me, love." His sweet words were what it took for everything to come crashing down, the fingers in your cunt quicken in pace, and his thumb flicking on your clitoris — causing you to grab onto his forearm. Scratching the clothed limb and heavy pants drawing inward, your cunt clamps around on his fingers as your orgasm comes to pull you in for a euphoric release.
And Nanami lets your body experience the shocks on top of him, laying precious kisses on your temple and cheeks. He slowly removes his digits from your satisfied cunt with a whimper from your puffy lips. "Did so well like always, angel." In your daze, you still share a smile and welcome his lips on yours.
Like you said before — Nanami's hands are your guilty pleasure in more ways than one. And it feels so good to know he reciprocates those desires with mutual love. If such a gorgeous and attentive man can have you under him with just his sheer touch, then so be it.
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luveline · 5 months
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could you please write an early!roan fic where maybe she thinks Y/N is actually just coming around to spend time with her and then she finds out that it’s actually cause of her eddie, and gets all grumpy like “i thought you loved me” and Y/N comforts her “i do love you, but i also love your dad!”
thank u for requesting!! eddie and roan 1k, fem
There's a distinct smell of burned toast coming from the trailer. You trust Eddie but you rush up the steps anyhow, alarmed to find him coughing in the kitchen, window thrown open. 
"Will you take her?" he asks you immediately. 
You spy Roan sitting at the kitchen table and swap her for your bag of groceries. She gasps and giggles at your sudden appearance, quick to wrap her arms around your neck when you offer your embrace. You walk her to the open door and stand there sucking in clean breaths as Eddie fans a dish towel around under the smoke alarm. "What's dad burning?" you ask. 
"Um. Bagels?" 
You rub her shoulder. "Hey, I missed you, huh? It's been a long time since I saw you." 
"I missed you too!" Roan says quickly, eager, wrapping her arms tighter around your neck to squish your cheeks together. 
You smile into her hug. You and Eddie have been busy once again, and when you did manage to steal a date night, Ro was at Wayne's. You really have missed the little girl and you intend to show it, stroking your fingers through her hair gently. She dissolves like always. 
"Shit," Eddie says, throwing two blackened bagels into the sink and running the water. "Shit, fuck. I'm sorry, girls, I don't know where my head's at." 
"Cream cheese can't fix that." 
"It's okay, dad," Roan says. "We can get burgers." 
"I can't always feed you burgers, babe, it's not good for you." Eddie rubs his hair out of his face. "And Y/N just got here from work, she doesn't wanna go out again." You're dying to flop on their couch, but if she wants a burger for dinner, who are you to stop her? Still, Eddie puts his foot down. "No, bub. I'll make some more bagels. It'll be yummy. We have salami and everything." 
"Uh," she whines, laying back in your arms. You nearly drop her. You laugh at her dramatics as she slowly drags herself back up, her eyes practically sparkling with an idea. "Me and you can go get burgers," she whispers. 
"I really am tired. Let's get burgers on the weekend, maybe." You don't like letting her down but you have to be a united front with Eddie. Usurping his authority helps no one, especially when she wants something she isn't going to get today. "And I'd miss dad." 
"Who cares about dad?" she says. 
You laugh. "I do! He's my boyfriend." 
"He's your what?" 
Eddie looks up from where he's cleaning. The burned bagels have been disposed of, the kitchen sink washed out and the toaster cleared of scorched crumbs. "You knew that, Ro." He sounds puzzled. 
"He's my prince," you say. "You know? The prince to my princess Polly." 
"What?" Roan stares at you with an extremely amusing expression, her eyebrows tugged in betrayal. 
"Sweetheart, you know me and daddy are together, don't you?" you ask, hosting her higher on your hip. "That's why we go on dates and stuff. And why he brings me flowers, why we had that anniversary dinner, remember, with the melted chocolate?" 
"I thought you loved me." 
"I love you so much," you say, looking to Eddie for assistance. He seems as lost as you feel. "Like, so much. But I love dad too. He's hard not to love, isn't he? He's handsome and funny, and he makes great grilled cheese–" 
Roan does not look happy. She pushes at your chest to be put down and sprints out of the kitchen to her bedroom, where you hear a clattering of things being pushed over and a whine filled to the brim with attitude. 
"Should I…" 
Eddie shakes his head. "In a minute. Let her be angry for a bit. This is her first heartbreak." 
You meander into him and pinch his waist. "Don't say that to me, that's awful. Poor baby, did she really not know we were dating?" 
"Of course she knows. She just forgets, 'cos she loves you and she thinks you're best friends" He wraps an arm over your shoulders. "Wow. I wonder if she thinks of me as the third wheel when we hang out." 
You take the bread knife out of his hand. "Don't bother with that. We're getting burgers." 
Eddie's laugh is more of a girly, cute giggle, like he's just had a shot. You elbow him in the stomach until he cuts it out, and beg forgiveness for being grouchy with a hug. You press your face into his neck and huff. "I missed you before you got me in trouble," you mumble. 
"Nuh-uh, that had nothing to do with me." He kisses your temple. "She loves you. It's nice. It's… You're awesome. It's great that she thinks you love her more than you love me, even if she's wrong." 
"I do love her more than I love you." 
"Are you trying to piss us both off? You can go get burgers by yourself." 
Roan is face down in her bed when you knock on her door a couple of minutes later, completely still. You pick up the plushies she's flung off her bed and sit them up in pride of place against the wall. "Princess, you know I love you," you say. "Don't you?" 
"Yeah." 
"But you know I love daddy too?" 
"Ugh." She shakes her head in disgust. 
"Ugh," you say agreeably. "You're my favourite, though." 
She turns very slightly to peek at you. "I am?" 
"Obviously. That's why I just told dad we were going for burgers whether he wanted to or not." You tickle her side until she laughs and turns on her back to escape you. "I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings, I wasn't trying to. We're still friends, right?" 
"We're best friends." 
"That's what daddy said." You scoop her up into your side for a squish. "We're best friends forever," you whisper. 
She leans up to rub her nose against yours. 
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thevirgincherry · 2 months
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BELL JARS AND BUTTERFLIES !
ft. infinite darkness!leon s. kennedy x fem!reader
tags. emotional abuse, mom-son incest, power dynamics, sub leon, some references to past physical abuse not explicit tho, few drug references, p in v
note. hai :3 put id leon cuz that’s who i saw but!!! u can think ab whoever u want :3 thank u to @devilmayfuck for proofreading oh my gosh :3 still ignore mistakes bc I tend to make em while formatting! feedback n rbs so appreciated <3
tumblr removes fics that, for example, use tw non-con and any nsfw tags in general from the tags. for this reason, as i’d like my fic to appear in the tags, please understand that this fic contains dark content under the cut. reading this comes at your own risk.
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It’s no surprise that Leon breached contract and put his dick in his shrink. He tends to do these things around women that sound like school teachers. To be fair, the contract wasn’t his to breach, she’s totally taking advantage of his vulnerability or whatever.
“You still live with your mother, Leon?” It’s a statement, not a judgement, he takes offence either way.
“She’s sick,” Leon says, and it’s a bold-faced lie, they both know that she, his shrink, has his file. That you’re well and alive. He doesn’t like to talk about you to her. Mainly because what you have done to him is private, no one else needs to know, it’s the only thing no one knows about him— The only thing that’s not written across his dossier in bright red is that he and mommy have a less than sound relationship. It’s the only thing that is his.
“Sick?” She’s not much older than you, and she’s not as beautiful as you.
“Sick,” He confirms, and it’s not far from the truth. Physically sick, nah, but Mommy might be, she certainly is, the biggest narcissist Leon has encountered in all twenty-eight years of his shitty life, and that says something. ‘Cause Leon works with the US government. He’s owned by them, actually, to say he’s working would be a lie— He’s been owned all his life, first by mommy, then by work, and Leon has started to think it’s always going to be this way. That it’s okay because he doesn’t have to dissect, ache and hurt like he does when he’s thinking.
When she tries to probe further, as it is her job, her duty, in the same way it is Leon’s duty to save the world on any old Monday, he leaves. The apartment is his by lease, but Leon has never stayed long enough to call it a home, he’s never considered it anything more than where you are.
His fist knocks against the lacquered wood, and you answer a minute or so later. It doesn’t suit you. Trying to fit in with all the D.C career women, prim and polished and intelligent, that’s just not you. At your core, mommy is trailer trash through and through. Your smile is artificial, and your nightgown is too, it’s ill-fitting, the only thing you’ve worn well is his father’s anger. Leon thinks that if he wasn’t so full of the milk of compassion, whatever it is Lady Macbeth said, he would help you out. Show you what you’re truly worth. Unfortunately, all Leon would like, all he has ever wanted, is his mommy.
“Leon,” Your concern comes sparingly, so he takes what he can, head dropping to your shoulder. He melts. You’re about as friendly as a loaded gun, but Leon’s got suicidal tendencies and all that jazz. “Baby, what happened? You look so thin, my goodness, you must weigh less than me.” It’s true, looks like he weighs seventy pounds soaking wet. Skin stretched thin over his bones. Teetering from left to right on ankles so thin they’re ready to snap. “What’s this? Looks expensive.” Your eyes sparkle as you take in his appearance, tracing the fabric of his Armani tie with tenderness you have never given to him.
“Ma,” Leon mumbles into your neck, he stumbles past the threshold and the door clicks shut behind him. All he wants is a kiss or two.
“Leon,” You say his name the way you did before, “That’s not my name, darling, you used to be such a good boy.”
“Mommy,” He corrects himself, it’s always been mommy and no one else, “I’m sorry for— I’m sorry for leaving.”
“It’s not your fault, baby,” Whether he comes or goes, you don’t care, your flippant nature drives him insane. “You’re too much like your father.”
He is not. If Leon was anything like that man, more scum than blood and flesh and bones, your face would be in the concrete. But Leon is your son, and he is who you’ve made him to be. Cowardly. “I’m sorry,” The words dry up in his mouth when your nails rake down his clothed chest, a soft whine slips from the base of his throat, like he’s a dog. Then you scratch behind his ear, and he really is a dog, tail between his legs and everything.
“Oh, my poor baby,” Mommy says, and you pout at him— Did you get your lips done? The money wired over to your account is for necessities. He’s a civil servant, there's nothing classy about that. You piss him off. You do. But you’re his mommy, and he loves you.
The bed smells like you, it was his once, but you take over every aspect of his life. Eat away at any part of him that isn’t appropriate by your terms, a vetting process harsher than the DSO’s. Now Leon’s here, faced with the same hole he crawled out of. The same hole he wishes to crawl back inside. It was safe in there. Warm and quiet. Darkness cradling him like you never have. The one place in which he cannot move, speak or be. The closet he can get to that is stuffing his dick inside.
“Outside clothes on my bed,” You tut, lifting back the covers so you can undress him, “What’s this?” In your hand is an orange tube that you’ve swiped from his back pocket. Leon blinks as you squint at the label. “Oh, darling, you don’t need these, let mommy keep them safe, alright?” Leon nods. That was a new prescription, paroextine, fluoxetine made him a smidge less suicidal, meaning instead of wanting to drive his car off the side of a bridge anytime he got in, he simply drove without a seatbelt in hopes of being crushed to death by a thirty-two tonne truck. Natural selection or whatever. Side effects were shakes, to the point where Sherry was worried he went and got himself put down in the Guinness World Records Book as the youngest recorded case of Parkinson’s disease.
“I need those, ma,” His voice breaks when you tuck them into your bedside cabinet, facing him with your beautiful, cruel smile.
“You don’t need them, Leon,” You gesture for him to come closer, he does, presses his face into your tits, and lets you tell him what’s right and wrong. When it’s coming from you it will always be wrong, but he’ll listen anyway. “It’s not real, baby, you know that, don’t you? I thought you were smarter than this— Shouldn’t be wasting all your money on therapy of all things, I mean, you go to talk for an hour and that supposedly makes everything better?”
“Mm,” Leon makes a noise that is both a grunt and a hum. Please, for the love of god, shut up and get him off— Do something. Hold him. Comfort him. You’re his mother.
“Then they want you to take all these pills-“
“They’re meds, ma,” He corrects for the sake of his— Well, for the sake of nothing at all. Not his ego, not his dignity, they have been depleted completely.
“Meds, huh? You can get addicted fast, and then next minute you know, darling, you won’t be able to function without them- You’ll be like a zombie.” You kiss the top of his head, cooing softly when he raises his head to look up at you like the sad, wet dog he is.
“It’s not crack, ma.”
I know you wish it was.
For an indolent lady who spent half her time doped up on what could only be described as sludge, putting morphine in his milk bottle, you do talk a lot of shit.
“Hah,” Your face changes, you laugh anyway, “You’re so funny, Leon.” You tell him, and he thinks, obsessively, that he would do anything to hear that laugh again.
“Thanks, ma,” Leon’s unrest is mollified by the featherlight touch of your hand on his bare chest, your nail drags down his sternum, as if you’re splitting him in half. It digs into the toughness of his abdomen, he squirms, “That feels weird,” He mumbles, unable to voice out his dislike properly.
“Leon,” You sigh heavily, heavier than his cock in his briefs, “You don’t feel anything, my sweet thing, you’re all empty inside.” He’s a bell jar waiting for its butterfly.
“My poor baby, look at you, can’t do anything without mommy.” Without mommy Leon doesn’t know how to be a real person.
“Can’t eat,” You trace his ribs, sticking out in odd angles through a yellowed layer of skin, “Can’t sleep,” The hollows of his face, his sunken eyes, they tell you everything, “Can’t even breathe without me, can you Leon?” Without mommy he has to be kicked in the gut so his lungs remember what it’s like to breathe. He has to constantly be on the verge of death to know what it’s like to live. “It’s so tiring, darling, I’m too old to be taking care of you.”
“Mommy,” Leon pleads, helplessly, the only manner in which he can behave is helpless.
“Baby,” You toy with his waistband, “You need mommy to help you feel, don’t you?” Feeling should be innate to a human being, shouldn’t it? “Even when you were a baby, Leon, you only cried when mommy did, I used to think it was sweet, but now, darling, it’s gotten a little old.”
Leon whines softly, animal-like, caught by the ankle like a hunted stag, “I’m sorry, mommy— I can’t help it.”
“Oh, it can’t be helped, Leon,” Mommy says impassively, because it is such a chore to jerk off your mentally stunted almost thirty-year-old son. It’s not his fault. He didn’t choose to be this sex-mongering freak that needs to be punished to get off, to not feel ill— To be alive. You started it, and Leon’s sure you’ll end it. Brought him into this world, and you’ll take him right back out of it. At the drop of a hat too.
Your nail, red and glossy and a tad too sharp, presses into his leaking slit. One hand curled around his jaw, the other down his pants. You fish his cock from his boxers, “Mommy was waiting for you,” That makes his chest ache, knowing that he had crossed your mind even once for just a split second, god, he could die a happy man, “Every time you leave I get so worried, I start thinking, well, gosh, how is my Leon doing without his mommy?”
Bad. He does bad in general. Around you it’s bad. He is entirely bad at all times, at every minute, every passing second. With you it’s less bad.
“I just miss you,” Leon says, helplessly beyond help.
“All the time?”
“All the time,” He agrees.
“Oh, baby,” You coo.
“Do you… Did you miss me?” He asks, breathless, twisting in your grip like he’s fitting. Your touch is a million pinpricks on exposed nerves. There's no answer, you just stroke his dick instead, and his moan shatters like an ice fractal. Leon wants to ask and beg and demand— He turns stupid too quick when you cup his balls, squeeze ‘em hard.
“So noisy,” Mommy spits on her palm, real classy, a bit of your whore heritage comes out— See that, it’s a real Kennedy move, dad would be proud. Then you get his cock nice and wet, pumping his shaft as he leaks through the gaps in your fingers. “My sweet boy, you used to be so cute. I miss when you were blonde— It happened to your dad too, it’s a shame.”
“Sorry,” Leon says as if it is his fault natural progression took place, his hips bucking upwards into your fist, schlick, schlick, schlick.
“Well, there’s no need to be sorry about it, you can’t do anything about it, Leon,” Well, at least you’re sane enough to know that, “You know what you can do, darling?”
He shakes his head, abs contracting, balls tightening, ready to blow—
“Clean up before you come to see me,” Your hand is gone, his dick twitches like there’s a parasite inside of it waiting to burst out, “I’m not stupid, Leon,” Your palm sits on his cheek, looking at his stubble with distaste, “And you should shave, look too much like your dad otherwise.”
The scruff is purely out of neglect for his appearance. Leon has never put much thought into it, no one’s ever complained, he’s fuckable. Very fuckable. So fuckable— It’s just you. Mommy says and Leon scrambles to do.
“Off you go then,” You shoo him away, force him to pick his discarded clothes off the floor, he tosses them in the laundry basket. His shrink left the print of her brown foundation on his collar— That’s what you meant by clean up.
In the bathroom cabinet he finds a packaged razor covered in a film of dust. His hand is shaking, nicks his chin once, the sting is not half as bad as your touch. When Leon returns, the nightgown is off, folded neatly on the side, he almost trips over getting to you.
“Mommy,” Leon mumbles around a mouthful of tit, like a proper stupid baby, dumbed-down to fit mommy’s taste.
“I know, baby,” You kiss the crown of his head, stroking over until your fingers toy with the hair at the nape of his neck, “Oh, there is just nothing inside of you but that big ol’ heart, huh?” It’s true. He’s empty but his heart. A heart that turns on its hind legs, rolling over onto its back for mommy and mommy only.
Leon hums, suckling on your nipple like he’s going to get milk out of it. “Can I—“ Leon lifts his head, ducks back down to avoid your scathing gaze.
“Can you what, baby?” You thumb his bottom lip, nail grazing his teeth.
“I want to fuck you,” He says, because he would like to fuck you.
“That’s not how you talk to mommy,” You go to push him off, but Leon shakes his head, and he is stronger— He is, he pins you down, presses his face into your neck. An apology that you accept.
“I’m sorry, mommy,” He’s trembling, “I’m sorry… I’m sorry, didn’t mean to talk like that— I’m sorry, please, can we-“
“Fine,” You cut in, and he knows that mommy is a slut. More so than him. That you want it just as bad, you just like playing games.
Leon’s lips part when the tip of his fat cock sinks into your heat. He wishes that your hole would gape like the maw of a beast and swallow him up David Cronenberg style. Wouldn’t that be so fun?
There’s a falter in your breath when he bottoms out with a squelch. You try to be this way, so unaffected, but Leon knows that you’re a glutton for cock. Not his alone, which crushes him, any old dick would do for his mom. It’s how she got by way back when.
“I love you,” Leon moans into your mouth when let him kiss you for the first time tonight, he savours it, lets the taste linger, “I love you, mommy.”
You loop your arms around his neck, pull him closer so his cock is deeper, hitting your cervix with the fat head. The most he can do in your grip is move his hips back and forth shallowly, never allowing more than an inch out of your sweet cunt. It’s suffocating and yet he loves it. Your love is a cage. Contains him. Leon licks the droplet of salty sweat that trickles down between your tits, he spurs his hips forward, fucks you with all that he’s got— This is all he’s good for, just good to give you your fill of dick. That’s why you had a son.
“You can do it better than that, Leon,” You’re panting, eyes glassy as you smile your gorgeous smile at him, “I know you can.”
With a grunt, he fucks you with fervour, balls slapping against your ass, all the nasty shit you love. His dick jumps inside of you, and you gasp, biting down on your tongue as he slams into you once, twice, thrice— Oh, it's so over. Leon can’t help it. Mommy’s pussy is so warm, so hot and wet and tight. Your disappointment is tangible. No need to hide it.
We can work on that, his shrink usually says to mask her annoyance at his premature ejaculation.
Mommy just shakes her head while frowning.
“I’m sorry, mommy,” Leon’s body jolts, hips still moving despite the oversensitivity, his cum makes your cunt sloppier. He fucks it back into you like the filthy boy— man he is, so set on making you come undone that it comes across as a little freakish. Like he’s in a trance or some shit. “I’m so- I’m so sorry, mommy— Didn’t mean to— Fuck, I’m sorry, sorry—“
“Leon, stop that,” You place a hand on his chest. He stops. Leon is good at that. Taking instruction no matter how life-threatening, no matter how embarrassing, he’ll do it to be worth something.
“I’m so sorry,” He croaks, truly humiliated by his dick’s lack of selflessness. Shit just cums without Leon telling it to do so.
Mommy pats his head, “It’s okay, baby, you’re only a stupid little boy, aren’t you?”
Leon nods. Mhm. Mhm. Yup. Yup. That he is. Mommy’s stupidly depraved little boy. Just makes sense.
God, yes. “Yes, mommy,” Leon finds himself face to face with your cunt. One that popped him out. A well-beaten yet pretty pussy, because all of you, to Leon, is beautiful no matter how worn out. He parts your cushioned lips, teeth tugging at your labia as he dribbles his spit over your fat pussy. His cum sticks to your inner-thighs, a shiny trail that dries up before he can lick it up and spit it back onto your puffy cunt.
Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling at his hair till he’s sure the roots have weakened and now he’s even more prone to male pattern baldness than he was before. Leon focuses his attention on your clit, it’s small and fleshy on the tip of his tongue, the more he sucks the more you drip drop and fill his mouth with your slick. Crazy that is. The clit. It’s just a gift that keeps on giving. And it's good both ways. Leon gets to quell that urge, the sucking on a tit urge, and mommy cums so hard her thighs snaps shut around his head. Your back bows off the bed, and god dammit is he proud.
With the lower half of his face covered in your wetness, Leon re-emerges to kiss you. “That’s enough, darling,” You tell him after the fifth and final kiss. He holds onto it. He just wants you, his mommy. Is it so bad to want?
“I love you, mommy,” Leon says for what might be the third or hundredth time of the night.
“I know, darling,” Your nose bumps his, “I did miss you, Leon, if I’m being honest.”
“Really, mommy?” His heart skips a beat or two. God, it might’ve fucking stopped. Then he’d just be a doll of some sort. The rarest collectors doll that mommy could put in a glass case and show off and dust off— Well, to think she’d care enough to dust him off, Leon has a bit of an overactive imagination.
“Really, darling.” Mommy nods, and he’ll take it. He’ll take it and treasure it.
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talaok · 9 months
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I LOVE LOVE YOUR visiting pedro on set with our daughter imagine 🥺🥺🥺 can u pls do more maybe our daughter visits set again and meet bella and they gang up against pedro? that'll be so cute 🥺🥺🙏🙏🙏
This (lovely) ask referred to this post if you're interested.
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She had begged you for a whole week. A whole week of prayers and cries, because she "wanted to see daddy at work again"
And yes it was cute, and yes her father had done a really good job at teaching her how to make puppy eyes, but have you ever had to listen to tantrums on tantrums for five days uninterruptedly? 
Because trust me, the first word that'll come to mind won't be "cute" anymore.
So of course you gave up. 
And that's how you found yourself on set again.
Pedro's eyes sparked as he caught you sitting on his chair with your daughter on your legs.
He smiled and shook his head, murmuring something to someone next to him.
They looked up at him for a second before nodding with a smile.
"Daddy!" your daughter's excited voice made everyone turn to look at you.
You snorted to yourself, as Pedro and, who you now realized was his co-star, walked up to you.
"Hi there peach" your husband grinned as he took her in his arms.
She immidately hugged him as tight as she could, almost cutting his air supply, but Pedro could only chuckle.
"hi baby" she mouthed to you, knowing how possessive your daughter got when in his arms.
"hi" you smiled right back, before turning to this co-star.
"so you must be-"
"Who are you?" Your daughter interrupted you with a bitter thread to her tone
"Emma..." you scolded her "be nice"
"no, it's alright" they smiled "I'm Bella, I work with your dad"
Your daughter's gaze moved attentively between Bella and her dad.
"your name rhymes with mine" she stated after some time, making Bella grin,
"it does"
"Why do you work with daddy if he's old?"
Bella couldn't help but laugh, as Pedro feigned a shocked expression
"Trust me Emma, I ask myself that every day"
"hey!" 
"do you know..." Bella ignored Pedro as they bent down to murmur to her as if they were about to reveal a secret "he even has to lay down to help his back sometimes, it's unbelievable"
A giddy laugh left your daughter's mouth 
"One time we had to stop for half an hour because he couldn't move his back anymore"
"That happened at home too!" Emma giggled "he picked me up and Mom had to help him get me down again because he was stuck"
Bella snorted
"Ok I don't know if I like this combo" Pedro shot you an amused look
"Oh, I love it"
"Would you like a tour, Emma?"
Her mouth widened in excitement, and she turned to look at you and Pedro 
"Can I?"
Your husband looked at you for approval, and once you nodded, he turned to his daughter
"of course honey, just be careful," he said, putting her down
" I'm always careful"
"Sure you are, you little pest" Pedro chortled, ruffling some hair on her head "Now go, have fun" he urged, watching as the pair disappeared behind the set.
"I thought she was here to see me" he joked, sitting down beside you
"I think you might have some competition"
"Yeah" he laughed, "I think I might"
__ __ __
"Speaking of which, where are they? It's been half an hour"
"shit" your heartbeat quickened a little bit, as you immediately jumped off your chair.
"hey Mark!" Pedro shouted, waving at a crew member "Have you seen Emma and Bella anywhere?"
"uh yeah, I think they were going to the trailers last I saw them"
"Thanks" he yelled in response, already walking out of the room with you following right behind.
"I think we should check Bella's and then yours"
"right" he nodded, following orders.
He knocked at the door, but no reply could be heard, which made your anxiety rise even more.
"Bella, you in here?" 
Again, silence on the other end.
You looked at each other, a mutual understanding traveling between you.
Pedro opened the door, but everything looked dark.
He slowly took a step in, looking around
"Bell-"he was about to call, but two shadowy figures emerged from right behind an open door.
"boo!" they shouted in unison, making Pedro take a step back as his heart threatened to stop.
what the fuck?
And just then, two distinguished laughs reverberated through the trailer as the lights switched on.
That's where they were.
Who knows how long they'd been waiting for you.
"you..." Pedro's eyes widened as his brain finally started working again.
"It was us, daddy!" Emma giggled, immediately joined by Bella, and shortly after... by you.
"y-yeah" he took in a breath, his hand going to his poor heart "Yeah I gathered that"
"did you get scared?" your daughter asked, still smiling widely as she walked over to Pedro.
"Yeah peach" he shot you a look of pure, actual terror, making you chuckle "You scared your daddy almost to death"
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laniissocool · 11 months
Text
starboy
pairing(s): jack champion x actress!fem!reader
warnings: none really ? she/her pronouns, fem reader, cursing, mentions of stabbing and scream VI spoilers i think ? also not proof-read and lowercase intended !
a/n: hi everyone !! so this is my first fic and i do plan on doing a second part. i really am more of a reader than i am a writer so please leave criticism in the replies !! also instead of y/n or reader i use just a blank (___) so let me know if i should change that and i dont know whether this is fluff or angst or like in the middle ? i’d say its a normal story but wtvr !! hope you enjoy !
you made your way onto set. you walked with your tote bag thrown over your shoulder, phone in hand as you walked pretty fast without looking up. knowing how clumsy you were, you were surprised you hadn’t bumped into anything yet. or maybe anyone. you got a text and opened as fast as someone could blink as soon as you saw the name. 
jackkk💫:
R U Coming to set yet?🎥
you:
omw !! ready 4 me 2 stab u ?🔪🔪🩸
jackkk💫:
As ready as I’ll ever be😵‍💫
you asked jack if he wanted you to show him how to turn on all lowercase, but he refused. he said typing like someone’s dad is cool.
you caught yourself smiling at your phone before turning it off and looking around as you walked. 
a few minutes later you made it to your trailer. you walked in and turned on the light, cracking your knuckles then tossing your bag on the small couch you had. you took your phone back out and texted jack.
you:
i’m here in my trailer, come get me ghostface👻👻
seen at 1:14
you thought it was sweet that there was a mutual thing between you and jack where it was completely needed and necessary to end all texts with an emoji, if either of you couldn’t find one you’d have to call or send an audio message.
about an hour later, everyone got their costumes on and ready to film. you were so thankful that the character you played, Elena, gave off the same vibes as you, so, you could dress her yourself. sometimes even with your own clothing. maybe it was your face ? you were very pretty, after all. a kind of rarer pretty, like a magical pretty ? but it definitely was not just your conventional attractive pretty. everyone got on set and you saw jack for the first time that day. you ran up to him and hugged him, your arms wrapped around his waist, in a friendly way. he hugged you back and you pulled away after a few seconds. 
“ y’know, i think you’re a pretty good-looking killer “ you said to him with a soft smirk. 
you guys always flirted with eachother, not even realizing. 
“ why thank you “ he said in a weird accent. 
before you started filming the prop guys had to fix some stuff so you guys got a quick break. you walked over to jack’s trailer, which he wasn’t in and sat down eating some gummies you found in your bag. after a few minutes jack comes inside without making noise since the door was cracked open already. he closes the door behind him silently and sits right next to you. he peeked over onto your phone as you played your favorite game. even though it wasn’t really fun to watch, he was insantly interested in anything you were. you didn’t even realize he was there because of how into it you were, besides, he didnt make a sound.  you noticed when he reached over to your bag of Haribos to get one. you jumped and almost dropped your phone.
“ shit, jack ! fuck ! you scared the life out of me “ you said with your hand that held your phone up to your heart. 
he burst out into a fit of laughter.
“ your- “ he couldn’t even speak without laughing. after about a minute or two of him laughing wiping his tears and you staring at him like he’s insane he finally says something. 
“ your face, ____ your face ! you looked at me like i’d just stabbed you ! “ he said, still with a smile from ear to ear on his face.
you looked at him with an unimpressed look on your face, scoffing at him as you bit back a smile. 
“ it wasn’t even that funny, idiot “ you said as you ran your tongue across your teeth trying not to smile. he saw right through you.
“ you wanna laugh so badly, don’t you ? ” he said as he looked down at you. you looked up at him, with a soft smile on your face. you laughed a little too as you had to give in. the room went silent and awkward as you’d looked at each others faces for a few seconds. unconciously, you both leaned in. you looked at his lips and your full lips parted a bit. your heart was pounding but you didn’t know that his was too. your lips touched and your hand travels up his chest to the back of his neck, sliding up to grab a handful of his curly hair. you pulled him closer and before you knew it you were turning your head into the kiss. both hands around his neck now as you tugged lightly on his brown locks. then you realized. you really realized. you were close to, but not quite making out with jack champion. he was your starboy. you’d never believed it, even if you told yourself from this morning that you kissed jack champion for a good, 30 seconds, you wouldn’t believe it.
you opened your eyes and they widened, looking back at him. his cheeks a flushed, rosy color. as were yours. you opened your mouth to say something but nothing came out.
you got up and he did as well after you, towering over you. he looked at you with eyes that were saying that he wanted you to say something. anything. you couldn’t. physically, nothing could come out. you had no idea what was going on, you never thought of jack in that way. or, well, in the way that you would kiss him for almost a minute straight kind of way. you walked out practically running to your trailer. 
all jack could do was watch, he was frozen and just as, if not even more shocked than you were. as you walked you remembered all the times you were around him. you’d get butterflies. he could be in the same room as you and you’d get butterflies but you’d labeled it as ‘nervousness’ for ‘no reason’. but it’d only ever happen around him. him. then you realized, the non-purpose flirting, the butterflies, the need to be around him. you were inlove with him ! god, how didn’t you notice before. that’s why everyone would look at you too with funny eyes whenever you’d flirt without knowing, thinking it was a friendship thing that only you two did around each other.
everyone probably definitely knew. they knew how you felt before you did. you opened the door to your trailer and locked it. you sat down as thoughts raced through your mind. how would you tell him ? how would you tell jenna and devyn and liana ? did he like it ? did he mean it how you meant it ? was it just a kiss for him ? .. is jack inlove with you too ?
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mypoisonedvine · 2 years
Note
hey my love, forever obsessed with everything u write x
u said something about potential tom ideas, it’s probs a short one, but i would LUV for u to write something similar to his first scene, where he comes in and greets (😦) ruth, but potentially an extended ahem version with y/n.
feel free to ignore if it’s not doing anything for u x
have a good day!
warnings: smut (18+ only), housewife kink, slight pain kink, some biting, touch of cornish, mostly just wholesomeness
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"Can't believe you're really 'ere," he beamed, jumping on you in a tight hug. You giggled and managed to get your arms out to hug him back. "Stole me jumper?" he noticed with a grin as he lifted the hood behind your head.
"S'my favorite," you reminded him. "Smells like you."
"Well, yeah," he laughed, "so do I! So show me some love, eh?"
Grinning, you pulled back and gave him a kiss-- just one, a chaste peck at first, until you went in again and he held onto your face, keeping you close and kissing you harder. You hummed into it, moving your lips in time with his-- it was still just a sweet kiss, but deeper and slower, and you hold onto his shoulders a little tighter.
"Missed ya so much," he mumbled against you, and you hummed back again. "Y'miss me too?"
You just nodded, not nearly as coherent as him as you drank in the feeling-- it was almost surreal, after being apart for months, to have him pressed up to you now, to hear his voice not through the phone, to see his face in person and not just in silly pictures or facetime calls.
"How much?" he wondered, and you could feel that sly grin on his lips. You smiled, too.
"A lot," you replied cryptically.
"That's it? Just a lot?" he teased, moving his hands down to your sides-- you giggled harder, feeling a little ticklish suddenly. "'Cause I missed you so much I thought I might lose my mind. You're not allowed to live that far away anymore."
"What?" you laughed.
"I decided it, just now," he announced, sticking his chin out, and you pushed him on the chest.
"Shut up, I have to live that far away for school."
"School? Psh," he dismissed, "don't need it. You can just stay with me here and I'll take care'a you."
He was just joking, but you found yourself biting your lip. And he saw it, too, and smirked as he looked down at your face.
"Y'like the sound of that, eh?" he noticed.
"A little bit," you admitted, shivering as you felt his fingers creep around your waist to your back, pulling you into him as he pressed against you.
"Me too," he mumbled. "You can stay here and just do whatever you like all day while I'm workin', wait for me to come home. Sounds kinda nice, yeah? Y'can do whatever you want... as long as you take care of me when I get back."
"Take care of you?" you repeated, sighing softly as he kissed beside your ear.
"Yeah," he said, and something so simple shouldn't have had an effect on you, but he breathed right against your skin and fuck, it just felt nice-- it made a pleasant chill jump up your spine, which in turn made your back in his arms. "Like a good li'l wifey."
You whimpered, and he grinned as he pushed you back onto the bed-- it was just one step from the door, one of the benefits of a trailer-- climbing on top of you with a mischievous grin.
"Wanna cook and clean for me, don't you?" he laughed, dipping down to kiss your neck, even biting you gently once. "Didn't know you were so traditional."
"Sh-shit, Tom, neither did I," you whimpered, spreading your legs to wrap them around his hips.
"Don't worry, m'gonna be so good to ya, love," he groaned, and you felt his hips rock forward-- you could feel that he was hard already, and you whined. "What kind of husband would I be if I didn't please my wife properly?"
Arching your back up off the bed, you felt his hands slide up under the borrowed hoodie-- his hands felt so damn good on you, and you sighed happily as he reached your tits and groped at them.
"Mm, pretty thing," he mumbled under his breath. "C'mon, let's get this off-- don't need to wear that anymore, m'here to take care of you now."
You lifted your arms and let him take it off over your head-- until it got stuck on your nose, and you whined as he kept tugging. "Hey-- hey!" you protested, slightly muffled by the fabric, and he stopped with a laugh.
"Sorry, love," he offered quietly, and though you couldn't see anything while trapped in the navy blue abyss of cotton-wool blend, you felt his lips against yours just under where the neckline had snagged on your face.
"Mm!" you hummed against him, one hand slipping around the back of his neck, "need to help me get outta this, Tom..."
"Fine," he relented, breaking away and gently lifting the neckline up off your face so you could get out-- and then you were topless, you hadn't even been wearing a bra anyways, and you felt sort of chilly but in a way you oddly enjoyed. "So pretty, love, lookat ya-- mm," he growled playfully.
He kissed you once, not nearly long enough, before sitting up and peeling his shirt off, giving you a proud smile as he descended again; he must've seen the way your eyes trailed over his toned, but lean, body, lingering for just a second on his necklace and the little trail of blonde hair that led from his bellybutton down into his shorts.
When he was on you again, his hands hooked into shorts and started to tug at them; you lifted your hips to make it easier to slide them down your thighs, and you shuddered with delight as you felt him take your panties down with them.
He moaned lowly as he looked at you, naked under him, waiting impatiently for more. "Your turn," you requested as you reached for his shorts, trying to push them down, but he helped you out and stayed propped up with one hand as he did his best to tug them down.
You bit your lip when his cock bounced out proudly, curling up against his abdomen, flushed at the thick head that you already needed inside you now. "Shouldn't I warm you up a little first, love?" he reminded you as you grabbed at his hips, trying to pull him closer.
You shook your head. "C'mon, jus' need you, please?"
"Okay, okay," he laughed, laying himself on top of you and kissing you again-- you whimpered as you felt him pressing his erection right up to you, daring to go inside, but still hesitating.
"Fuck, please!" you whined again, and he finally did it.
And, yeah, he was right, he probably should've warmed you up first-- you forgot that it had been a while since you'd been with him, and without owning a dildo or even a vibrator the biggest thing you'd had inside yourself for the past four months was two of your fingers. Those were nothing compared to him, he was so hard and thick, stretching you more than you expected; you whined, a sharp sting coupled with the pleasure of being filled, and he stopped. "Y'okay?" he panted, obviously affected by being inside you again after so long.
You nodded. "Yeah, just-- stings a little. You can keep going," you offered.
"I don't wanna hurt you," he explained, voice just louder than a whisper.
"You're not, I just have to get used to you again," you replied gently. "Please, don't stop..."
He pushed forward, giving you a few more inches of him, but it still wasn't everything-- and you were groaning through your teeth at the feeling. "Christ, you're so..." he sighed. "So fuckin' tight, god, swear m'not tryin' to hurt you... y'feel so good, please-- just a little more, you can take it, right? You've almost got it, love..."
You nodded, letting out a loud whine-- half pleasure, half pain-- as he filled you to the brim, and his hands held onto your hips tight as he tried to control himself.
"Missed you," he said again, "missed you, baby-- missed this so bad. You're so good for me, love, m'good wifey, huh?"
You whimpered and nodded, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. "Y-yours, Tom," you choked.
"Please," he breathed, "can I move? Fuck, jus' need to move a little, need to fuck you, angel--"
You nodded again, and gasped as he slowly pulled his hips back and pushed back in. Already the discomfort was fading, it helped that you were so wet for him and that he was still being rather patient-- but you knew it was taking all the self control he had to be this gentle with you.
"So perfect," he mumbled against your skin as he kissed your neck, your collarbone, your shoulder. "Perfect for me, all mine-- love you so much... m'little wife, yeah?"
"God, Tom," you whined, "you're so-- we never even talked about that before..."
"You know I wanna marry you," he whispered, moaning as he found his pace-- still not too fast, but gaining speed with each movement. "I know I told you that before."
"Yeah, but I didn't think you were serious," you replied, digging your fingers into his shoulders as his cock slid right over that spot every time. "We're too young, aren't we?"
"Who cares?" he mumbled, biting on your shoulder until you moaned louder. "If it's what we want. You want it, right?"
You nodded, and he purred.
"You wanna be my wifey, then? Wait for me here and help me... wind down, after a long day at work?" he prompted with a smirk that you felt as he kept sucking on your neck.
"Yes," you sighed.
"Good girl," he grunted, and you felt yourself clench on him.
You reached down between your body and his, finding your clit that was throbbing for attention and rubbing it quickly with two fingers.
"Mm," he hummed, "gonna play with yourself while I fuck you? S'cute, but you know it's my job to take care of you, love..."
He guided your hand away and moved your hips, holding your legs open with a tight grip on your thighs. You weren't sure what he was manhandling you around for (not that you minded), until he moved his hips again and the hard pressure of his pubic bone hit right on your clit and-- "Oh!" you gasped. "Fuck, Tom..."
"Mhm," he smiled, "I remember. Didn't forget how my girl likes it in just a few months apart. God, you're all I've been thinkin' about, really, trying to remember exactly how you come for me. Why don't you remind me, angel?"
He kept encouraging you until you did, which was not immediately after that of course-- but so soon that you were a little embarrassed at how easily you finished. Then again, it was Tom; he never made you feel embarrassed or self-conscious about anything, even when he was making fun of you, because he just had that sweet way about him and you were so comfortable.
"Fuck, love," he grunted, "so tight when you come on me-- shit, see what you did? Creamed on my cock, love, look..."
You couldn't actually see it, but you believed him, you could feel how wet you were-- it was dripping down onto his sheets, which would be annoying later, but you didn't even care.
"Don't think I can last," he admitted with a low grunt, "m'sorry, you just-- feels too good, been way too fuckin' long..."
"It's okay," you promised, "just come, Tom, I wan' you to."
"Fuck," he moaned, "say that again."
"I want you to come," you repeated.
He fucked you hard and fast, every ounce of rowdy, raunchy teenage hunger forced on you as he chased his release. You watched his face tilt back for a second, eyes shut and mouth slack and cheeks tinting a bit pink-- and that fucking necklace dangling over your face.
He whimpered a bit as he pulled out, instantly painting your stomach before he'd even gotten his hand around himself to finish off the job; you smiled and bit your lip as you felt his hot, sticky come land on your belly.
"Fuck," he sighed, dropping his head as he squeezed the last drop out. "Hold on, lemme clean you up--"
But you didn't let him leave, you grabbed him by the back of the neck and sat up to meet him halfway for a lazy, slow kiss; he smiled into it and held your face gently, tongue dancing on your lips as you moaned sleepily. "Mkay," you finally offered as you fell back onto the bed, "now you can get me a rag."
"Dreckly," he winked at you as he pulled his shorts back up and went searching for a washcloth for his wifey.
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queercodedcharacter · 6 months
Text
Cumslut.
Hi! This is my first ever oneshot xxx soooooo pls be kind.
|Summary| Eddie hears you're interested in buying, and offers to smoke you out for your first time. |Warnings| 18+ SMUT MDNI. No use of Y/N, slight pervy!eddie, fem!reader, slight dubcon (high reader, all consensual), unprotected p in v (wrap it b4 u tap it ladies), breeding kink, choking, dirty talk, slight size kink. lmk if i forgor anything.
Word Count: 4.2k
🤍🖤🤍🖤🤍🖤🤍🖤🤍🖤🤍🖤🤍🖤🤍🖤🤍🖤
You had known Eddie for years at this point, the both of you now seniors together, although this was only your first year while this was his third at trying to graduate. However, you knew that he was serious about getting out of Hawkins High this year. You had offered him help many times with tutoring. You thought that would be the best move to get closer to Eddie.
Eddie was not your usual type. The men who you found in your company were arrogant assholes. They were selfish, too; selfish lovers who would chase their own high with your body, leaving you high and dry. You could count the times you’ve cum from the hands of another on one hand. The rest of the times ended with you cumming pathetically on your own hand, daydreaming of a certain someone.
Eddie was different. You had heard stories about him and his escapades. He was the opposite of the guys you saw. He would take his time with his girls, often spending the entire time doting and loving on her body, only to smile sheepishly when they would put their hands down his pants to find him cum stained and soft. Something about him had you wishing you knew him, that you were one of the girls on his radar. You were, but he was sure you would never reciprocate.
So, when you offered to tutor him, he thought it was simply out of pity. He knew you were the smartest girl of the class of ’86, and assumed you were just looking for another thing to place on your resume. He turned you down, leaving you wallowing in your hurt and self-pity for the rest of the day.
Plan B was placed into effect the very next day. As he passed your locker to reach his, you made sure to mention to your best friend that you wanted to smoke weed. You emphasized that you were clueless on what to do and where to go. You weren’t, but Eddie didn’t need to know that. It only took a few moment after that before Eddie was offering to smoke you out for your first time, to see if you liked it and wanted to become a customer. To Eddie, this was his move.
That’s how you ended up driving to Eddie’s trailer in his obnoxious van, watching his very skilled hands roll a fat joint, and shotgun kissing the smoke out of his mouth.
It only takes about a half hour before you became a giggling mess in Eddie’s lap.
You were talking animatedly about a new episode that aired of your favorite show, but he wasn’t entirely listening. You were making Eddie nervous with your body swaying and bouncing next to him atop the table while he sat below on the bench. He isn’t too sure how you went from sitting sideways in his lap to straddling him, but he sure as hell wasn’t complaining.
He would be a downright liar if he said he never noticed you in the hallways at school. He is, unfortunately, a young man, who would likely view anything with a set of holes as a possible candidate. But you were something he liked to indulge in a little further than the rest of the girls his eyes would set on. He always sat behind you in English and would watch you arch your back as you stretched and slid your ass to the edge of the seat, the bottoms of your thighs teasing his eyesight.
He didn’t just think of you sexually, either; he often wondered what kinds of music you listened to, if you would listen to his. He wanted to know you and be known by you. Which was why when you mentioned to a friend that you wanted to try it, he couldn’t not offer to smoke you out. He knew that there was little of chance of you having an interest in Eddie “The Freak” Munson, but that wouldn’t stop him from getting as close to you as you would let.
But then he started to notice your slight rocking onto his pelvis.
What neither of you knew before this was that you were one of the horny stoners – literally any touch would put you into heat, turning you into a drooling mess. At first, Eddie thought you were simply lost in thought. It often happened with his friends who he would smoke out; one minute they would be present, and the next they were null and void for about an hour, teetering the line of high and greened out. He wasn’t even entirely sure you noticed your own actions. He felt a little pervy letting you do this to him in your state of mind, but he had lost all strength to end things once he felt your heartbeat in between his legs.
You were starting to get a little breathless as you continued your tangent and your light grinding onto his now solid bulge. He was now slowly rocking up into you with each thrust of your hips, his cheeks stained a cherry red and his lips moist from where he would stick his tongue out to wet it. Your hand was tracing his shoulder, enjoying the way his shirt felt on your fingertips. His left hand went from where it was positioned on the smallest part of your waist, up your arm, and then finally to its destination: your throat.
His hand laid resting, his large digits spanning the surface of your neck, his thumb and forefinger haphazardly landing on your pressure points. He made no move to squeeze, but that didn’t stop your words from dying in your throat, you mouth drying instantly. You tried to squeeze your thighs together at the ache you felt, only to grind yourself further onto Eddie’s cock. You let out a choked gasp at the feeling.
“What was that, Baby? I’m not too sure I caught the end of that,” Eddie smirked up at you as he lightly taunted you for your reaction. The slight degradation had your head spinning.
“I- uhhhhhh, I was saying,” you began, until his fingers finally constricted around your neck, and you let out a low, filthy moan as the blood flow to your head gets cut off. You nearly went limp in his lap as he continued to grind his cock up into you, your panties now soaked through. You couldn’t even think, already so fucked out just from Eddie’s hand on your throat and his bulge bumping into your clit periodically.
“It’s okay, Baby, I’ll get you back on track. What show were you watching again?” Eddie cooed as his grip pulls you closer, until his nose was nestled against yours. You were going cross-eyed from trying to maintain eye contact with the boy.
It took you a concerning amount of time to answer his question, but it was answered, nonetheless. “Golden Girls,” you managed to whisper. At this, he released his hold on your throat, his hand moving to cup your jaw. You squeezed your eyes shut and whined at the cool air now breezing across the skin he was covering with his hand. “Eddie, please.”
He chuckled darkly. He was unsure where this confidence was coming from, if it was the darkness that surrounded them in the field by the trailer park, the weed flowing through his veins, or the pretty girl that was perched so pretty on his cock. Whatever it was, you found it very intoxicating.
Eddie was often unsure of himself. You could tell that much by his hard exterior that he forced himself into at school when he would get relentlessly harassed. What he didn’t realize, is you were always watching what took place after: the slow breath he would release, usually slumping against the lockers he was just knocked into. He would rub his temple and shake his head like a wet dog, as if trying to release unwelcomed thoughts from his mind. Your heart panged just thinking about it.
Eddie’s grip on your jaw tightened, his fingers now curling into the hollow of your cheeks and resting against the ridges of your teeth. Your lips squished into a pucker, drool now pooling into the corners of your mouth. “Eddie, please,” he mocks you in a girlish whine. Your face burns with humiliation, but your cunt pulses from his words. You weren’t usually one to enjoy degradation. You weren’t sure what kind of weed this boy gave you, but the words coming out of his mouth sounded like poetry. “What are you begging for, sweet girl?” You stayed silent, trying to plead with your eyes. His gives you a condescending smile, but his eyes remained hard and unwavering. “Don’t go all shy on me now. You’ve been rubbing yourself on my cock this entire time. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what you need.”
“Eds, I need you,” you whimpered. Whimpered. Eddie couldn’t help but place gentle kisses on your cheeks and nose before you finally grew impatient, your hand delving into the curls at the nape of his neck and pulling his lips to yours.
You felt the tension between you snap like a rubber band as he moved his hand from your jaw to the back of your neck, as well. His other hand, still snug on your waist, curled around your back. Pulled your chest into his so your tits are smashed against his chest tightly. What was once a light grind turns into a desperate rut, humping him like you would if there were no clothes, no barriers between the two of you. He groaned loudly into your mouth, and you moan louder, as if it were a competition of who’s noises could make it to the trailer park the fastest. His hand weaved through your hair, wrapping it once around his fist before tugging violently. Your lips pulled away from his as your head snaps back. You let out a choked sound, unable to get any words out from the strain on your throat.
“Does Baby like it rough? Is this just what she needs?” His words make you rut harder into his pelvis. His mind swirls with sick and twisted thoughts, his mouth spewing them as if they weren’t his deepest secrets he tried to keep from her. He would blame it on the weed later. “You wanna know what The Freak’s cock feels like, huh? You wanna to ride me, use me to make yourself cum? Want me to fuck you in this park where anyone can catch us?” You let out a wonton moan at his words, only pushing him further. His mind begins to swirl with new ideas. “You’d like that, huh? Getting caught with my cock down your throat, your hand between your legs. Hopper would have to come down here to stop us, but he’d probably also get hard watching you slobber all over yourself. He’d be thinking about putting his cuffs on you then taking a turn himself.”
You decide to egg him on, pulling a hazy smirk as you slow your ruts back into a grind. “As long as he shoots his load into my cunt by the end of it,” you spat out, trying to get the breathiness out of your tone.
His grin dissipated from his face, leaving the hard, dominant look on his face. He says your name calm, cool. It sends a shiver down your spine that doesn’t go undetected. “I am going to give you one chance to end this now. One word, and this is over, and we can pretend this never happened.”
You say nothing as you lift yourself up off his lap. You give him no time to wallow in your rejection as you stand before him, slowly sinking to your knees without breaking eye contact. He lets out a shaky breath, finally letting himself realize that he has you in front of him, both of you looking and feeling fucked out, wanting to steal each other’s pleasure.
You continue to stay silent as your fingers work his belt out of the metal buckle, not bothering to pull it out of his jeans as you make quick work of his button and zipper. Before he can blink, his cock is slapping against his black Corroded Coffins shirt, his pink tip slowly dripping down the (very long) length of him, and his boxers pulled below his balls. The sight has you licking the drool threatening to fall out of your mouth.
He was a beautiful sight to take in, and boy, did you take it in. His happy trail that was peeking out of his shirt didn’t go unnoticed as it fell into a tuft of wild hair surrounding his manhood. There was a lot of it, but you could tell it was well maintained, and clean. His thighs were clenching and unclenching underneath the denim covering them, and his chest was heaving up and down in anticipation for what you were going to do next. The piece of artwork in front of you had you clenching your thighs.
Although you are eager to please him, the sheer size of him is causing you to swallow a hard lump in your throat. You aren’t nearly as snarky or confident as before as you knelt before him. Eddie could tell, and his hand drifted to your cheek, causing you to lift your eyes to him. His answering smile said it all.
Truthfully, he doesn’t care what you did to him, as long as he was able to feel your hands on his body and be able to give you the same. With that thought fluttering in your mind, your hand tentatively wrapped around the base of him. The image of it had Eddie’s eyes rolling into the back of his head.
Your hand, you see, was tiny. This was something Eddie tried not to think about too hard, but his mind was unable to stop running with filthy, depraved thoughts when he towered over you in the hallways. Your hand would be wrapped around the straps of your backpack as you tilted your head to look up at him, your eyes only meeting his pectoral muscles when you were wearing platforms.
Seeing his reaction gave you some of the confidence you lost. Your hand lightly dragged over the length of him, your palm squeezing around the tip of him, using the precum oozing out of him as lubricant to fuck your fist into him. The slick sound of you jerking him off was obscene, but both of you stayed silent to carefully listen.
Eddie was in Heaven. He by no means believed in a God, in fact would often lament about the dangers of organized religion, but Christ, you were making him pray to anybody or anything who would listen that he could ride this feeling forever.
This wasn’t his first time by any means. He would frequently let girls buy without money as compensation, that fact was known by everyone at Hawkins High. However, nothing could beat the feeling of the pretty girl who’d stolen his heart for quite some time now doing it instead.
He was biting his cheek harshly, looking down at you with intense eyes as you stared back innocently. He didn’t even think you were doing it on purpose, which made it much worse, somehow. His hand drifted to the one wrapped delicately around his cock, wrapping around it. He squeezed, much harder than you would have on your own, making you uneasy.
“Are you sure?” you whispered up to him, making his eyes soften as he smiled sweetly at your concern.
“You won’t break it, Baby.” With that, you began to work him.
His moans grew louder as you jerked him, violently. When your hand began to dry, you lean up over him, deliberately spitting down his cock, working the saliva with your hand down his shaft. He began to shift his hips up with each pump of your hand, successfully fucking your fist like it was a toy. Your other hand drifted downward, up your thigh, and into your panties. You greedily stuffed two fingers into your cunt, unwilling to waste time when you knew you were soaked from pleasuring Eddie Munson.
“Fuck, Baby, you have no idea what you’re doing to me, touching yourself while touching me,” he whispered, his head falling back into the picnic table while his legs spread even wider, allowing you to inch yourself closer to him.
While he wasn’t paying attention, you took your opportunity. You leaned your head down, letting your tongue slither along his balls, your hand continuing to work him relentlessly. He went wild at that, blabbering nonsense as his hips continued to rut into you. You continued to work your mouth over his balls, sucking each one into your mouth lightly, relishing the way they would twitch and tighten in your mouth. Your hand in your underwear was now dripping into the grass below you, loud squelching coming from both Eddie and you as you worked the both of you in tandem.
It's only a few more moments that Eddie could take it before he was gripping your hair in a faux ponytail before he yanks you off of his balls, your mouth feeling suddenly empty. You let out an annoying whine until he pulls you back up into his lap, wasting no time in pulling your soiled underwear to the wide and sinking into your pussy in one thrust. You both gasped, you at the feeling of being split in half with Eddie’s cock, and him being suffocated with your hot, wet heat.
Your forehead dropped to his in mercy. The intrusion was intense, to say the least. You were also no stranger to sex. In fact, you did have a bit of a reputation as a vixen, seducing boys with your innocent stare, only to break them apart by the end of your endeavors. In spite of this, Eddie was already bigger and better than all of your other experiences. You were continually squeezing Eddie, your muscles fluttering around him sporadically. You were unsure if you were trying to suck him in or push him out. Tears pricked your eyes at the overwhelming sensation.
You both stay still, simply enjoying the feeling of being filled to the brim. You genuinely think you could cum without any sort of stimulation, and he genuinely knows he could cum, as well. But, like the gentleman he is, he staves his own release off so you can chase yours. Besides, he thought you’d be so pretty, cumming and crying all over his cock (which you are), and that was something he needed to discover himself. He waited patiently for you to acclimate to his size, and only started when you give a single nod, your lips falling down to meet his.
His large hands find the bones of your hips, pulling you up tantalizingly, leaving the very tip of his cock kissing your pussy, making you wait a couple of seconds, and slowly dragging you back down, the same tip kissing the opening of your cervix. You couldn’t moan, or whine, or even whimper; all noises were stuck in your throat as he kissed you so gently and fucked you onto his cock.
He pulled back from you to look down, watching him disappear into you, and watching the slight pull of your lips as you drag back up. Everything is puffy and swollen and fucking drenched in your arousal, and God, it turned Eddie on to no end.
You began to grow impatient with his tempo, moving your hips on your own accord. You started off grinding your hips into his, swirling them like you have a point to prove, that you know what you’re doing. However, eye contact is a turn on, for both of you. Your grind slowly turned into more rushed thrusts. Eventually, you were bouncing on his cock, tugging on his hair while your head is tilted back in pleasure. Eddie couldn’t help but whisper filthy things in your ear, thrusting his hips up to meet your bounces, fucking you absolutely stupid on his cock. His fingers lazily traced around your clit, purposefully avoiding where you need him to touch you the most.
“Look at you, my sweet girl. Taking my cock so well.”
“This cunt was made for me, don’t you think?”
“You are insatiable. So cockdrunk you cant even keep your eyes open.”
“Cum on my cock, Baby. I’m dying to get it all over me.”
You never knew Eddie would have such a mouth on him. In reality, it shouldn’t have surprised you as much as it did. The boy was loud, and vulgar, and borderline offensive most of the time. That was one of the things you loved about him: he was unapologetically himself. Even with his cock buried deep into your pussy.
But your favorite words that came out of his mouth were your name. It was a relentless chant from his lips, a mantra that you only wanted to hear come from him. You echoed his name back, both feeding off of each other as you chased your own highs.
Between the ruthless pace he had set, the eye contact he held with you, and the words he spoke to you, your release hit you like a freight train. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, nothing but dead silence coming from you. The quiet before the storm.
What came from you next was pornographic. Your moans were nothing but pathetic attempts at sentences, the only coherent words coming out were curses. Your cunt spasmed around him, trying to push both him and your orgasm out as if they were intruding. He continued his brutal pace into you to ride you through your high, and to continue to chase his. Watching you fall apart in his arms was intoxicating to Eddie, his balls growing heavy with the need to feel his cum was dripping onto the bench below him. By the end of your release, you were weeping, and so was your cunt. Your release was dripping down his balls and into his underwear. Tears were streaming down your face, and he would’ve be worried if it weren’t for the stupid smile plastered onto your face.
“Please cum, Eds,” you whined at him. You were so sensitive, bordering the line between pain and pleasure. However, you also had the innate urge to feel him cumming into you. You were on the pill, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t imagine.
“Where do you want it, Baby?”
You bit your lip, bringing one of his hands back up to your throat. His hand squeezed, as if it were unconscious, and chokes you out again as you reply, “Please cum inside me. I want to feel it so bad.”
Your answer pulled a growl from deep inside Eddie’s chest. His thrusts gained power as he approached his high rapidly. “Oh, Baby. I’m gonna fill you up. You’ll be dripping me for days.” He laughed at you as you lose the strength to hold yourself up, slumping against his chest as he tries to fuck a load into you. His hold on your throat doesn’t cease. “You love the thought of that, huh? Me cumming in you? Breeding you? Pumping load after load into you until it finally sticks. Making you my little cumslut.”
You nod against his chest, reaching underneath the both of you to cup his balls. With a strained whimper, he snapped your hips down onto his, twitching as he filled you to the brim with his cum. You are a babbling mess, muttering about “filling you up” and “being his little cumslut.”
You both stayed in that position for who knows how long. Both of you were unsure of what to say after the intense fuck session you both had. As Eddie came down from his high, both from the sex and the weed, his stomach was rolling with unease.
“I’m sorry if I was too rough on you. Maybe we should have waited until you sobered up,” he whispered to you. He kissed your sweaty temple as he rubbed your back gingerly. In spite of his words, he made no move to pull out of you, his softening sock keeping his cum plugged into you.
You finally pull up from his chest to look him in the eyes. You could see the guilt behind them, making your heart melt all the more. “Eds, I was a more than willing participant, I promise you.” To assure him further, you tensed your muscles, squeezing around him. His cock twitched inside you, making you smirk at him. He rolled his eyes before placing a chaste his on your lips.
“Well, how was that for your first smoke session?”
You giggled at his words, making him tilt his head in question. “Eddie, I know how to smoke. I just wanted an excuse for you to talk to me.”
His answering smile said it all.
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headkiss · 1 year
Note
hi there! i was wondering if i could request an eddie x reader where the reader has really severe cramps and kinda unwillingly needs eddie to take care of them? i totally get if that's not something you wanna write though! thanks for reading this all, and i hope you have a lovely rest of your day/night <3
hiii thank u for requesting!! hope u have a good day/night too :) | 0.8k words, fem!reader, period pains
Cramps were the absolute worst.
You were cursed with bad ones. They would render you immobile, basically. Curled up into a ball on the couch or the bed. Sometimes the floor, on the really bad days.
Eddie knew this, had seen it many times. He hated to see you in pain like that, especially when nothing helped that much. All he wanted to do was make you as comfortable as possible and he always did.
He was a gentle lover, different with you than anyone else.
Today happened to be a really bad one. Your stomach practically attacking you from the inside. Eddie left to go grocery shopping, checking in on you before he did and leaving with a kiss to your forehead.
They got bad shortly after he left, and you counted down the minutes until he was home. Even his presence made things better.
While Eddie was out, he thought of you. He saw your favorite snacks and grabbed them, and asked a worker which heating pad was the best.
He finished up as fast as he could and headed home. Back to the trailer he shared with you, just a couple down from uncle Wayne’s. He loved having you around, and even though he wishes it was nicer than a trailer, he’s just glad you get to share a space.
He likes your stuff on the bathroom counter, your clothes in a dresser with his, you in his bed every night.
You’re curled up the way you usually do when you feel this way when Eddie gets home. Something random playing on the TV and your eyebrows scrunched in pain.
His heart squeezes at the sight, and he wants to hold you but his hands are full of bags. He drops them on the counter, grabs the snacks he bought you, and goes to kneel on the ground in front of the couch, his face level with yours.
“Sweet girl. How you feeling?”
“Like shit. Periods suck. I’m a bit better now, though,” he knows you say that because he’s home. He smiles.
“Bought you some stuff,” he holds up the snacks, sets them on the coffee table so they’re in your reach.
“Thank you, Eds,” your voice is quiet, but your appreciation shows in your expression, the way your eyes melt just a little when you look at his smiling face.
“There’s more, hold on.”
You hear him look through the bags, open a package, and then come back. He has a heating pad in his hand, and you’re about to tell him you already have one when he speaks first.
“I know we’ve got one, but the lady at the store told me this one was the best. You wanna give it a try?”
“You’re cute,” he waves his hand in the air, a silent ‘stop it,’ and then looks at you, waiting for an answer. “Okay.”
He plugs it in, and you lift up the blanket so he can set it against your stomach. You can’t ever wrap your head around how sweet he is, how much he thinks about things like a heating pad or what snacks you like when you’re on your period. He pays so much attention, loves so wholly.
“I hope it helps, sweets. Hate seeing you in pain.”
“It’s okay, I’m used to it. I wish I wasn’t so useless, though.”
It’s true, your cramps are worse when you try to stand or do basically anything. It’s like they know you’re trying to be productive and want you to stop. You hate that you can’t do much, that Eddie has to take care of you even if he reassures you time and time again that he doesn’t mind. Not one bit.
“Oh stop. ‘M gonna go put the groceries away then I can cuddle you real good, ‘kay?”
You like the sound of that. You hope he didn’t buy too many things, “be quick.”
He is, you can hear the way he shuffles around, the time he drops something and curses at himself. You smile at the idea of what he probably looks like, long limbs moving about in a hurry, his hair probably falling in his face because he hasn’t gotten a trim in a while.
Your pain flares up again and you groan, eyes pinch shut.
Luckily, Eddie shows up soon after that. He gets one look at your face and he knows that it’s worse again. He frowns, pushes the hair from your forehead.
“Poor baby.” He’s not being patronizing, he actually feels so bad for you. For anyone that has to deal with this.
“Mmm,” you shift forward, so there’s a gap between you and the back of the couch for Eddie to slide into. “Come hold me, Munson.”
“Right away, sweets.”
He squishes himself in behind you, your back to his chest. He wraps an arm around your waist, his hand spreading wide across your stomach, holding the heating pad there.
It’s the most comfortable you’ve been all day.
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thesimulacrasimp · 2 months
Text
OMG THOSE EPS--- I HAVE SO MANY EMOTIONS I CANT---
HAZBIN HOTEL EP 7-8 SPOILERS WARNING‼️
Okay so Charlie actually didnt forget Vaggie for lying for that long, which is understandable, really.
So Charlie ACTUALLY MADE A DEAL WITH ALASTOR NO MATTER HOW MUCH TIMES VAGGIE TOLD HER NOT TO.
Rosie is really sweet lady, but im not really vibing her voice
But i really DO vibe the cannibals. They all have this cool aesthetic n i really love that!
Carmillas n Vaggies song was also really good!
Also when Vaggies wings SUDDENLY N OUT OF NOWHERE came out i was like: OKAAAAAYY... IM NOT SURE WHY BUT GO OFF IG!!
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ALSO OMG THIS SONG WHERE CHARLIE IS TRYING TO BRING CANNIBALS ON HER SIDE WAS SO COOL, ESPECIALLY THE END PART THAT WAS IN DA TRAILER, ITS SO COOL JSHSBSJSJ
Also they so cute n silly, I love em
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AND AWWW THEY ALL GOT ALONG N BECOME FRIENDS 😭😭😭😭 I JUST KNOW WHAT WILL HAPPEN IN THE NEXT EP N THIS MAKES IT LOOK SO SAD 😭😭😭😭😭😭
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the 8th ep...
OMG VOX IS BACK HIIIIIII!!!!!!! I MISSED U SO MUCHHH
AWWW NIFTY DID THIS LIL THINGY FOR ALASTOR ITS SO CUTE
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Also can we talk bout how Charlie n Vaggie FINALLY KISSED??? I CANT IMMA JUST----
Im really so glad that Alastor is actually protecting the hotel and all people in it, hes probably doing it just because he have no choice, but i really hope that he do care about Charlie n everyone else. Also their fighting outfits is really cool. AND THE ANIMATIONS WHEN HE TOOK HIS DEMON FORM WAS SOOOO COOL, IT WAS LIKE IN 3D (maybe it actually was in 3d idk-)
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Okay yknow.. When Adam blasted (idk if thats a correct word for that) at Alastor n broke his michrophone and Als voice became so clear, like, without any radio effects, I actually thought that he lost all his abilities, cuz Adam is clearly stronger than Al, and i got so scared becuz that would mean that he wont be able to protect the hotel anymore and maybe even die... But it didnt happen so its all good!!
Also Vox watching this whole fight being so exited for Als death was kinda funny to watch.
Okay.... I dont wanna cry again so can i not talk about sir Pentious? Thank you. All i gotta say, I really happy he managed to confess his feelings to Cherri before he... yknow...
Also Charlie FINALLY TOOK HER FULL DEMON FORM. N I ACTUALLY WAS NOT EXPECTIN RAZZLE N DAZZLE TO BE A GIANT DRAGONS THAT WAS SO COOL without thinking that one of them died...
Also i immediatly thought that sparing Lute was a mistake. Guess what? IT WAS!! :DDDDDD
ALSO I THROUGH THIS WHOLE FIGHT WAS REALLY HOPING THAT LUCI WILL COME OUT N SLAUGHT ALL THOSE BITHES FOR GOOD. N HE DID!!! I LITERALLY, ALL IN TEARS AFTER SR PENTIOUS' DEATH, WAS SO HAPPY I WAS LIKE: FUCKING FUCK YESSS!!! KILL THOSE MOTHERFUCKERS!!! '!!'! '! ₽!! 3!&!& ALSO I ADORE THE FACT THAT EVEN IN A FIGHT HES SUCH A SILLY CUTIE PATOOTIE.
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And we saw his demon form n its really cool!
ALSO I WAS SO ANGRY WHEN CHARLIE MADE LUCI SPARE ADAM LIKE-- PLS LUCI KILL HIM N LUTE, THEY CLEARLY DONT DESERVE TO LIVE. Also we saw Adams real face which is kinda cool.
ADN MY GIRL NIFFTY DID ALL THE JOB HERSELF, LIKE GOOD JOB GURL! I KHEW WE CAN COUNT ON U.
Okay, at 1st ep i was not sure bout Katies new voice, cuz it clearly was hearable that its a mans voice, but in this ep its actually working! I absolutely loved this: «Nobody gives a shit about you, Tom!» xd
Ok so.... Ill try not to scream... khem- THEYRE CANNON!!!! THEYRE!!! FUCKING!!! CANNON!!!!! IM SO HAPPY U CANT EVEN UNDERSTAND!!!!!!! I FUCKING KHEW THAT THEYLL BE CANNON, IM A FUCKING GENIUS IDC. IK THERE WILL BE SOME PPL THAT WILL BE LIKE: "nOoO tHeY rE nOt cAnNoN iTs pRoBaBlY mIsAnDerStOoDinG....." YOU KNOW WHAT? FUCK YOU. THEY ARE CANNON, I DONT GIVE A SHIT!!!! FUCK U IF U THINK THEYRE NOT TOGETHER
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JUST LOOK AT THEM THEYRE SO CUTE AAAAAA
Also this last part of the song with Alastor was so strange. Yk english is not my first language so i probably missed alot what he said in that, but i clearly remember that he said something bout his wings n i was like WHAAAAT????? I know i probably just heard it wrong, cuz HE JUST CANT BE AN ANGEL RIGHT?... RIGHT??? He also said smt bout his freedom, so yeah, I think the wings was just a metaphor. But overall he looked really scared for some reason, which is actually so weird. Its so weird to see Alastor actually being scared..
ALSO WE FINALLY SAW LILITH, but sadly didnt hear her voice. N what is weird, it looked like she was on sorta vacathion, and Lute talked with her bout Adam being Killed AND THATS SO WEIRD AHHH I CANT WAIT TO FIND OUT WHAT IS HER ROLE IN ALL HERE!!
ALSO CAN WE TALK ABOUT THAT CHARLIE WAS RIGHT?? SINNERS CAN BE REDEEMED. CUZ PENTIOUS APPEARED IN HEAVEN AFTER HIS DEATH (n im really-really happy for him actually, im so glad that he didnt dissapear from the show, cuz he actually was my fav character in the pilot)
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aoisjdjdjndndnns i cant wait for season 2!!!! Ig that the main antogonists in this season will finally be VEES?? OHHH IM SO EXITEDDDD
My review/thoughts on eps 1-2
My review/thoughts on eps 3-4
My review/thoughts on eps 5-6
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satorugojooo · 2 years
Note
Hey how are u doing and I was wondering if u could do a tighnari x reader with a female who trained with eula in mondstat and moved to sumeru and fights just like eula with a claymore and everything. now tighnari sees her and is smitten by her and they end up dancing to together kinda like eula and amber at the end of her trailer I would love that idea ( English is not my first language sorry)
A/n: Helloooo I'm doing very well thank you for asking! And let me just say it, I love this request so so much I'm honestly surprised how you all got so many ideas! I hope you will like this <3
Pairings: Tighnari x fem!reader
Fandom: Genshin Impact
Warnings: none, just fluff <3
Life as a ranger was no easy. Not only that you had to survive in a huge rainforest, you also had to guide people trough it.
You were coming from Mondstadt, the city of freedom, and freedom did not match well with wisdom. But you couldn't care less, you've been always fascinated by the stories Lisa told you about her time in the Akademiya, and you wanted to know more about this mysterious land. When you first got in Sumeru, you were greeted by none other than Tighnari, one of the forest watchers from the Avidya Forest. He was accompanied by his little apprentice, Collei. You knew about Collei for long because of Amber. Back in Mondstadt you used to hang out very much with Eula Lawrence. You saw trough all the gossips and rumors about her family and noticed just how un-happy the knight actually was. She taught you everything you know about fighting, and with her help you managed to wield your vision using a claymore.
As you were strolling trough the rainforest you heard a growling and you looked back to see a richboland tiger. You weren't affraid by it, these tigers were dangerous only when they were in big groups, but you couldn't hurt it, so how were you gonna escape? As he charged to attack you, you used your claymore to shield you from his attacks. As you kept your guard up he still didn't want to quit. You were growing tired of defending yourself but you couldn't hurt this tiger.
When he was about to slash your arm you saw an arrow infused with dendro land on the ground next to you. As soon as the tiger smelled the arrow he ran away without even looking back at you. You looked up only to see Tighnari sitting on a branch from a high tree with a serious face.
"Oh Tighnari! Fancy seeing you here but uh, how did you get here?" you asked rubbing the back of your head as he jumped down landing right in front of you.
"I was simply patrolling, there are a lot of tourists that get lost in the rainforest so I always have to keep my guard up, but then I sensed that something wasn't right in this area, turns out something wasn't right indeed." he said and you looked at the ground.
"Uh sorry about that, I didn't want to hurt that tiger since I know the rules..." you said and he shook his head.
"It's not about the tiger, you have to be more careful while walking around these parts. And didn't I tell you the first time we met that you need to have some meat in you bag just in case these tigers come up, you never know what dangers lie in these forests, from the smallest snake till the biggest tiger you have to be careful. "he said and you nodded.
"I understand, next time I will be more careful." you said and he smiled.
"Cheer up now, how about you help me deliver these supplies to the heart of the forest where spinokrok lives?" he asked and you looked at him.
"Would you allow me to accompany you?" you asked him surprised and he chuckled.
"People may think I'm strict but those are all rumors, I'm strict only when their safety is in danger because of their recklessness and if they don't understand? Well I majored in botany, and helping people grow a brain is sadly not my area of expertise... "he said and you giggled at how sassy he could be.
"Okay it would be my pleasure to accompany you there." you said and he smiled.
"This way I hope you can be more comfortable with the forest, I remember Collei was just like you when she came from Mondstadt, and now she's all better." he said and you listened carefully to his stories.
As you arrived in the heart of the forest you saw a whole area covered with grass and sun rays peaking trough the big trees making a beautiful scenery.
"Tighnari... This is amazing!" you said looking around and he smiled.
"Not many come here because it's very dangerous, but Im glad you like it." he said as he approached the river next to this place to leave the supplies for those crocodile-looking animals.
"All done, oh look what we have here, these crystal flies are actually unique did you know that?" he said and you looked in awe as they flew around you without flying away.
"They don't seems to be scarred by us, is that normal?" you asked and he nodded.
"Dendro crystal flies are very friendly with humans, if they feel elemental energy from someone they will be attracted by them even more. Turns out they took a liking on you." Tighnari said and you smiled.
"Ohhh that's so pretty!" you said as you started to dance around them and spin gracefully. You remember each dance lesson Eula taught you and you were grateful for it. The crystal flies accompanied you in a perfect dance and Tighnari couldn't take his eyes off you. You were gracefully dancing surrounded by crystal flies in the rays of the sun, he was sure that he never got to see such a pretty thing.
All of a sudden you stopped and looked at him with a smile.
"Oh c'mon, it's no fun if you stay on the edge, take my hand!" you said and landed him your hand in anticipation. Tighnari looked at you dumbfounded and you laughed.
"You want me to dance... With you?" he said and you closed your eyes smiling.
"Of courseee, weren't you the smart one? I thought you would understand what I want from the beginning and on top of that, as my friend used to say, it takes 2 to tango~" you said as you took his hands and you started to sway together.
Tighnari looked amazed at you but soon he caught up and you both ended up dancing around crystal flies.
"Traveler, let's go there, maybe Master Tighnari is right there..." collei said as she and the traveler accompanied by Paimon approached the heart of the forest.
"But why are we looking for Tighnari again?" Paimon said and Collei looked at her.
"He didn't come back after his patrolling as he would usually do, I'm just worried about him." she said and Paimon nodded.
As they were approaching the river Paimon eyes lit up.
"Hey Collei! Look, that's Tighnari and Y/N-" she shouted before the traveler put their hands on her mouth.
"Paimon shhh, you don't want to... Disturb them right now do you?" they said and Paimon nodded without saying anything more.
"Oh... It seems I was worried for nothing, turns out he and y/n have quite a good time together, well then want to return back to the camp? I would love to hear more about your travels!" Collei said with a chuckle as they left the 2 enjoy their dance.
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simplydifficultme · 10 months
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i'm not sure if u meant it as a figure of speech but i'd love to hear about ur experience of sharing the artbook with jack too! only if you feel like it of course :)
I think the most notable about the artbook interaction with Jack is, that it is still wild to me that he is now the one who has the one other only version that exists of it at the moment.
So Jack was the who I went to to get my autograph from (just how queues ended up being called) When he saw me he immediately recognized me from the Wesper shooting we had in the morning and he was so excited about my cosplay actually. We talked about it a bit, he even reached over to feel bits of thecoat I have. Saying "that is just actually what it looks like" A bit more banter and he gave me the classic "I am obsessed 💅💅💅." . (He is so gosh dang sweet and kind and genuine, just as everyone always says.) Anyways I'll skip over a bit here but I then showed him the artbook and he was AMAZED! Just like with Kit the next day it took me a bit of clarifying that that was in fact I who made this and didn't get this from somewhere else. ^^''
I pointed out the 0.2. S2 Trailer Wesper moment to him and he mostly sat there kinda not knowing whether to look at me or the artbook. He seemed so actually interested in looking and I just said a million times Thank you bc he kept praising it q-q. So I pointed him to where to sign and he did.
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Then obviously I didn't want to take much more time anymore and "wanted" to leave, but he still kind of had his hands on the booklet, looked at it and then at me and to me it seemed as if he would have loved to continue talking and ofc I wanted to but yea I didn't want to hold up the queue much longer. I also knew I would see him again on Sunday for the selfie.
So then what I then had to do was to kind of slooooowly slide away the booklet from him which in that moment It felt like I was taking candy from a child Q-Q
I told him I'll be back tomorrow for the selfie and he was kind of leaning over the table to say bye, telling me he's happy to see me again tomorrow.
I don't know if I made up my mind right then and there but it didn't take me long to remember I had the second version of the artbook with me and that I'd give it to him the next day.
Then SUNDAY:
He of course recognized me since I was still in my Wy cosplay and the first thing I think I say to him after Hi and "you too" to his "good to see you again" was:
"Do you remember this?" as I slide the other version of the artbook over.
and then he hits me with something that I will never forget:
"Yes of course, I was actually talking to the others in green room about it" (I assume that's just what they called the room they had for themselves)
After that my brain cut out for a second. I ofc went like "Realy???" bc wth ???!! MY silly little artbook, worth talking to about to the rest of the cast ???? So then I was even more dead set on giving this artbook to him. I think I said smth else after he said, yes he was indeed talking to the others about it but then I just said.
"You can have it."
And he did actually NOT believe me that I was giving it to him, he was shaking his head in disbelief "no, you are giving this to me?" and I just said Yes! and he kept asking if it was really okay and I of course said yes again. Until he eventually took it along with the other prints and the thank you note he didn't get to read right then and there.
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Then we got up to take the selfie :3
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lyss-sketchbox · 5 months
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if u saw the new trailer whats ur opinion?
im very excited for skirk,,,,
OH BUDDY YOUVE OPENED THE FLOODGATES CUZ IVE BEEN SPAMMING MY FRIEND WITH THEORIES LIKE HFJDJDJDJ I WAS SCREAMING THE ENTIRE TIME
Obvious spoilers for the fontaine archon quest in general for my thoughts and interpretations
Okay FIRST OF ALL NEUVI SENTENCING FURINA TO DEATH.
Okay so refer to what neuvi said at the end of Act 4 where 'all sovereigns are not im full dragonhood and it can only happen IF THEIR ARCHON DISAPPEARS'. I was hoping that Furina would somehow relinquish the gnosis or her godhood to Neuvi to let him be full dragonhood and stop the flood and WELL THIS LINES UP.
1) arlecchino did say furina was not archon like or has something wrong with her, 2) her playable character model HAS A VISION!!!!!!! 3) Iirc but her promo art, the one with the white bg with nation symbols on it, people say that it didnt have the symbols an archon would.
She's DEFINITELY losing her godhood here somehow and man. MAN IM SO EXCITED TO SEE HOW THIS PLAYS OUT
Second of all FURINA or should i say the HYDRO ARCHON as a whole
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She sounded MAD when she stated she wanted to use her own trial to show the world the true meaning of justice. This leads me to believe that focalors DOES have some sort of multiple sides/personalities to her. Especially with her announcing HER OWN TRIAL through the 3rd person.
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And well one of these sides is either Egeria's manifestation or furinas actual 'TRUE lady justice' side. A bit of a stretch but one of the official art in the livestream is multiple depictions of furina so it can be a lil nudge ya know.
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NEUVILLETTE!!!! NEUVI NEUVI NEUVI!!!
MAN ID KILL TO SEE THIS MAN IN ACTION FULLY ANIMATED, LET HIM BE FULL DRAGON AND KICK ASS!!!!! IM BEGGING YOU HOYOVERSE LET HIM BE MORE AWESOME!!!!
Okay this man definitely was acquainted to Egeria in some way and this extends to Furina as well (BECAUSE HE LOOKS SO SAD LIKE WHAT HAPPENED TO CRACK THIS MANS FACADE). I like to believe that Egeria and Neuvi might have a sort of Mentor/mentee/passing of the torch relationship. Because in so far everytime we hear Egeria, she talks to neuvi as if to hope that he will learn to understand humanity or learn his purpose or find SOMETHING (i forgot exactly what she says). But yeah he clearly holds her to high regard and that sentiment might extend to furina either because Egeria entrusted Neuvi with Furina, his loyalty to Egeria and Fontaine, or Furina just reminded him of Egeria and regardless of the trial still didn't want harm to come to his archon.
Okay a step back, we know that neuvi has holes about his past when he came to the world as the sovereign successor. And his line (i think its his idk) 'i seem to remember now... this trial is...' could be a call back of something Egeria told him from the past.
I firmly believe that this prophecy was actually a trial for NEUVILLETTE and not FURINA. It could be a final trial for him and his understanding of his position as chief justice and humanity. WHICH would tie into Egeria's line
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and neuvi's line
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Finally the GNOSIS
Okay the most obvious place is in the Oratrice. I feel like because Egeria isn't truly dead (from the who Amrita thing), it's possible that she lives in the Oratrice where she guides Neuvi and Furina. That's why it seems like it has its own conciousness and agenda. It's why it falsely accused Childe (and presumably Furina too). It might be why neuvi i think says this.
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Anyways theres NO WAY the gnosis is staying in the oratrice lmao. There's bound to be a power transfer, the oratrice might be dead or dismantled because of its previous 'wrong' accusation for childe. And well im very much hoping it goes to Neuvi where he'll finally have his own meaning of Justice and no longer needs the assistance of the Oratrice to make judgements
I dont have much to say about Skirk, im most certainly looking forward to skirk childe interaction. Im guessing shes there at the abyss side either for the Narssizkruenz (fack spelling) ordo relation or well.. the gnosis. Im taking a random guess that she and the abyss might take away the gnosis to prevent celestia from descending early because fontaine is giving back the power they stole from a sovereign back to him.
ANYWAYS IM HYPED IM SO INSANE WAAAAAAAAAA
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the-unforgivenn · 7 months
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CW: Biiiiiig CW for the good ole miscommunication trope, and I am so, so damn sorry for it.
Word Count: 9.6K
Summary: Do you ever feel like you’re losing your mind?
A/N: Welcome to season four, everyone!! Holy shit, it's actually here! We get into some big time angst and revelations in the next chapter. Start preparing now. Big, huge thanks to @morningberriesao3 and @rip-quizilla thank you both so much for all the support on this chapter!!
The Beginning
Masterlist
Give me your hand      Blood is spilled and man will follow      Infernal man      Punishment too great to bear
 - c h a p t e r   f o u r / a v e n g e d   s e v e n f o l d
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“What the fuck is even happening today.”
Eddie runs his hand through his tangled nest of curls, staring down the hall after a swinging strawberry-blonde ponytail, completely taken aback by the sequence of events that ended with him readily agreeing to whateverthefuck he just agreed to like it wasn’t the weirdest fucking thing in the world.
Because it was.  It is , and that’s saying something.  
The day started weird enough – if weird could be defined as really a really fucking awkward dance around your girlfriend of eight or so months – the one that he was unable to fucking pleasure like he normally does last night, and then acted like nothing happened the following morning.  Or rather, acted like something did happen when it so very obviously didn’t.  You fucking lied about it, and that has Eddie completely reeling.  
The interactions this morning were so strained: the stilted conversation, the barely-there eye contact, the tentative promise to come over after Hellfire before you finally just put him out of his misery and left; went back to your trailer despite his best efforts to be a comfort instead of a burden.  
Honestly, maybe that’s what he is at this point.  A burden.  Wouldn’t be the first time.
Now that he thinks about it, he’s pretty sure he said sorry when his front grazed your backside, the tight quarters of the kitchen providing no room to maneuver around each other while coffee mugs were silently filled. 
Eddie grimaces at the memory.  He knows he’s just hurt and confused; unfortunately, he knows you heard it in his tone this morning.  He tried to keep it out of there, tried to shrug things off and go back to normal.  The shitty thing is – things haven’t been normal for some time.
He’s not even sure what normal is anymore.  
Then, fucking Jeff plops a Newsweek in his lap before lunch, encouraging him to read yet another ridiculously obvious, fear-mongering article written about the malevolent nature of Dungeons & Dragons and the kids who sell their souls to play the game.
It’s – whatever.  It’s so eyeroll-worthy whatever at this point where it’s laughable how a few well-placed buzzwords can spin a completely innocent fantasy game and get it tangled into a web of lies that only serves the purpose of instilling fears in all of those bored-ass stay-at-home moms that literally have nothing better to do than hover over their fucking children like a goddamn helicopter.  Eddie actually entertained Jeffrey and even read portions of the article out loud from his perch at the head of his cafeteria table, and yeah – he can admit it – got a little amped-up about it.  
How could he not?  The finale of The Cult of Vecna is tonight – or, it was… unless Mike and Dustin are able to find a sub for freakin’ Sinclair, who would rather bend over backwards to sit his ass on a slab of pine instead of gather around a table with the Hellfire Club – which, contrary to what fucking Newsweek says, consists of bunch of guys that actually give a shit about him.
But, no.  Sinclair wants to spectate from the end of the bench as Jason Carver and the rest of his jocky goons get pummeled in the championship game and fucking Henderson and Wheeler want postpone all of Eddie’s hard work for the sake of keeping the peace with the fucking meatheads of Hawkins High.  If he’s being honest, Eddie saw this coming with Sinclair.  He really did, and it’s fine.  It’s whatever – as long as it doesn’t bleed into the rest of the group and affect them negatively.   
Apparently, there’s blood fucking everywhere because here he has Henderson and Wheeler actually catering to the extracurricular events of this godforsaken place?  Actually wanting to push back the culmination of what they’ve intensely labored over in that drama room for the last several weeks?  Months, even?  No.  He didn’t see that one coming, and it pisses him off, being caught off-guard like this.  
And now?
Eddie watches as Chrissy Cunningham scurries away from his locker while that scrunchied ponytail bobs, waving a nervous goodbye as she disappears down the hall.  He lets a disbelieving breath out of his nose, blinking a couple of times to come back to his senses after that particular, albeit brief, conversation has him questioning his sanity a bit.
“Uh, did I just hear that right?”  Gareth appears over his shoulder, jolting Eddie where he stands.  “Did she just basically ask to buy weed from you?”
Eddie makes a face.  He’s not exactly thrilled they were overheard, even if it was just Gareth.  “I dunno, man,” he grumbles as he shoves off his locker.  “Guess I’ll find out after last period.”
“Want me to go with you?”
The older boy narrows his eyes at his friend.  “What?  No.  Why?”
It seems as if Gareth wasn’t expecting Eddie to demand a reason.  Gareth stands in front of him for a moment, mouth opening and closing around words that don’t come.  His eyes flick away as he mumbles,
“I dunno.”
Eddie’s pulse quickens as he squares up with his friend.  He has a sneaking suspicion he knows where this is headed, and fuck no.   Gareth doesn’t get to do this.  Not now, not with all the shit that’s rained down on him in the last twenty-four hours.  
“Nah, man,” Eddie’s challenge is a low rumble in his chest.  “Say it.”
Gareth holds his stare for several moments before relenting, finally muttering, “It’s nothing.”
“You’re right ,” Eddie snaps as anger flashes dangerously hot towards the younger man.  “It is nothing.”
It was nothing.  It is nothing.  It’s a deal; a dealer meeting a client.  Nothing more.  The fact that his heart stutters at the thought of being alone with Chrissy is just because he’s nervous about interacting with her after all this time, and maybe even a little bit as to why she needs the weed in the first place.  It has nothing to do with the fact that she’s his ex-whatever and that he’s being fucking disloyal to you.  He’s not doing anything.  
He’s providing a service.  A service that’s needed; requested, even.  An exchange.  Of weed.  Like any dealer would.  And that’s fucking it.
Gareth just won’t let it go.  “Well, then let me go with you.”
A muscle twitches in Eddie’s angular jaw, and grinding his teeth in annoyance, he tries to reason with his friend.  “She – she came to me, dude.”  Eddie can’t help the little twang of pride he feels as he voices it out loud.  “You’ve literally never come to any other drug deal, so why this one?”
Gareth seems to have a reply at the ready, but stops himself short.  “Because –”  His mouth slams shut, but the intensity of his icy stare remains honed in on Eddie.
He feels like those blue eyes see right through him, and it’s unnerving.  But seriously, what is there to see?
Nothing.
Maybe if he thinks it enough, he’ll believe it.  “Stay the fuck out of it, okay?  It’s none of your business.”
“Eddie.”  Gareth’s tone is borderline pleading, though still firm.  And kind of assholishly brash.  “This is dumb, you realize –”  He cuts himself off, relenting with a roll of his eyes.  “Fuck it,” he scoffs softly when he sees Eddie’s expression is flat-out seething.  “Just don’t do anything stupid.”
The scoff that bubbles over his lips is as involuntary as the rage that threatens to rear up and lash out from the depths of his gut.
That familiar beast is back, real and suspicious as ever.  “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he spits, the fire in his umber eyes pinning his rhythm guitarist to the ground.
Gareth throws up his arms in aggravated defeat.  “God – whatever, man.  You know it’s not gonna look good if someone sees.”
“No one is gonna see,” Eddie grumbles, though his stomach swoops with the thought of it.  Gareth voices the very thought that roars to life in the back of his brain.
“What if they do, huh?  What if it gets back to –”
Eddie counters quickly before he has to hear your name spoken through someone else’s lips.  “I’ll tell her then, alright?  Jesus.”
“Oh, right,” Gareth mutters sarcastically, stocky arms crossing over his chest.  “Like you told her about the studio.”
Eddie’s eyes round in shock.  Did he seriously –? 
Yeah.  He did.  “Fuck off, Emerson.”
“Y’know what?  Right back atcha, big boy.”  Gareth appraises his friend with one final judgemental once-over before turning around and stalking away.  “Have fun with Chrissy.”
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“What the fuck is even happening today?”  
Eddie knows Chrissy should be able to hear him.  Though she stands still (a little too still, he thinks) across the small wooded clearing, she’s close enough to hear how he carefully called her name.  Yeah, Chrissy should be able to hear him.  Instead?  The Queen of Hawkins High looks like she’s in a wicked staring contest with an old elm tree in front of her, and it’s the third time Eddie’s tried to get her attention and been ignored.
She’s like, with it, he thinks – he can hear her raggedy breathing from all the way at the other end of the clearing – but even as he moves closer, she gives him no indication that she knows he’s even there.  Eddie’s heart stutters in his chest, a thumping heavy with foreboding weighs in his feet as he inches closer to her rigid form.
He knows he’s making noise.  Intentionally.  He’s scraping his worn Reeboks purposefully across the leaf-littered ground in a weak attempt to make his presence known, and yet – nothing.
Until she whimpers, a frightened little sound is punched from her lungs, and Chrissy starts backing away in a rush from said tree just to run smack into Eddie’s chest, whipping that strawberry-blonde ponytail around with a startled yelp.
So much for gently calling her attention to his presence.  God damn it.
“Woah, woah!  Hey, hey, hey – sorry,” he chuckles half-heartedly, if not a little panicked; palms out in defense at his chest that still feels warm following her impact.  “Didn’t mean to scare you.”
More, he thinks.  Didn’t mean to scare you more because … 
Jesus Christ.  She looks fucking terrified.  
Eddie’s ember eyes flick down her trembling frame, real concern paints his tone.  “You okay?”
Chrissy inhales a shaky breath and looks over her shoulder at the elm, like she’s trying to solve a problem that has no answer.  That knot in Eddie’s stomach twists tighter.
“Yeah,” she breathes, swallowing heavily as she looks back at Eddie.  “…m’fine.”
She’s very obviously not fine, and Eddie’s starting to wonder if this was a good idea.  They’re alone – he knows that, and he thinks she knows that but – maybe that’s what frightens her.  Being alone with The Freak .  
She should know better; Eddie thinks she should know him better, but time moves strangely in high school – maybe Eddie’s outside this unspoken statute of limitations of familiarity with her Highness and she’s forgotten everything they had.  Not like they had anything, really –
Eddie blinks, mentally shaking himself out of his rambling train of thought.  “There’s, uh… there’s nothing to worry about. Okay?  No one ever comes out here.”  He moves to the picnic table, and he watches as she warily follows.  “We’re safe.  I promise.”
Her stare is blank as he flips open his lunch box, spinning it to her to show her the contents.  Eddie’s heart flips as he hears her speak, so diminutive and unlike the girl he used to know.  “So, how does this work, exactly?”
Sending her hesitance, Eddie’s hand comes to his chin, and with an air of hopeful nonchalance, he replies, “Oh, just like any other old sale, except uh – cash only, for obvious reasons.”  His smirk doesn’t quite meet his eyes, but it’s an attempt to lighten the mood, anyway.  “No receipts.” 
She’s looking at him like he’s a stranger, like those two months last year were all a figment of his very broad imagination.  And fuck, maybe they were.  Maybe that’s the secret code of Hawkins High hookups that he’s not privy to – once the pretty, popular girl goes back to her dickwad boyfriend, the Freak goes back to being a nonexistent entity that’s supposed to retreat to the depths of his lowly position at the bottom of the social food chain.
Statute of limitations, met and passed.
All business it is, then.  He plucks a baggie out of his tin, keeping his voice flat.  “I’ll do a half-ounce for uh, twenty.  Plenty of bang for your buck.  Should last a while.”
Eddie’s eyes hone in on the fidgeting hands, the anxious way she picks at the sides of her fingers like you do while she contemplates his offer. It almost looks like she’s going to answer, the words at the tip of her tongue when suddenly she gasps, jumping where she is and whirling around to watch the tiny scratchy, skittering of a squirrel up a tree.  Eddie can feel the discomfort rolling off her tense shoulders in waves.  It stings more than he thought he would, she’s not even trying to hide her outright anxiety to sit across from him in such an isolated setting.
Fuck.  Maybe Gareth was right.  Maybe he should have come with him and been a buffer between the awkwardness that flows between them at this table.  The table where he’s made his girlfriend come about a half-dozen times –
Nahhh.  Nope.  Can’t go down that road right now.  
Eddie lets his frustration get the best of him, slamming the lid of his lunch box shut.  “Hey, uh – we don’t need to do this.  Give me the word and I’ll just walk away,” he mutters, dejected and hurt that she could possibly think – well, whatever the hell it is she’s thinking about him to make her so goddamn jumpy.  “Okay?”
Chrissy can’t meet his eyes.  “It’s not that, Eddie.  I don’t want you to go.”
He almost scoffs audibly, has to bite his tongue to hold it in.  He almost sneers a nasty little passive-aggressive retort, one that informs her that he understands, no one needs to be seen with The Freak, especially her.  She continues before he’s given the chance to reply.  
“It’s just…” Chrissy trails off, the strain in her voice so clear, like it’s an effort to even get it out.  She runs her hand nervously over the worn wood, back and forth – fingers twitching in that familiar, edgy way.  
Her beautiful blue eyes are deep, uneasy pools of despair as she hesitantly asks, her tone meek and powder-soft,
“Do you ever feel like you’re losing your mind?”
Eddie’s heart drops in his stomach.  Her voice is so small.  Her face… there’s something going on behind that frown, that worried furrow of her eyebrows, the hollowed out stare.  This isn’t the Chrissy he knows.  There’s…  a problem here, sitting right in front of him and for once, he feels like it’s not due to his reputation.  Eddie’s entire posture shifts, his shoulders square towards his friend.  His acquaintance, classmate – whatever.  He’s resigned to be more pleasant, to tread lightly and try to find the reason why she does want him there, the reason why she’s come to him for help. 
Eddie dips his chin, tilting his head to the side to disrupt her blank stare at a warped blemish in the wood on the table; after a moment, she meets his gaze, connecting with his big brown owl-eyes.
If she wasn’t shaking like a goddamn leaf, it would almost be funny how precisely she’s hit the nail on the head.  Losing his mind… is she actually serious?
“Uhhh… you know, just on a daily basis.”  Eddie can’t help the toothy grin that crawls across his face.  “I mean, I feel like I’m losing my mind right now, doing a drug deal with Chrissy Cunningham, the Queen of Hawkins High.”
Chrissy scowls, dropping her gaze again.  “Ugh, don’t call me that.”
“‘S not a bad thing,” Eddie gently reasons, “it’s what you are.”  His grin widens when he sees her look up at him again.   Swallowing the heavy lump in his throat, he considers his next words carefully.  “Chrissy, do you remember what I said, uh… the last time we saw each other?”
Chrissy’s dainty brow furrows.  “No?”
He tries not to let his disappointment show.  He was sure this was the whole reason she came to him in the first place.  “You don’t remember?”
Her voice cracks slightly.  “I’m sorry…”
“That’s okay,” Eddie murmurs, rashly deciding this needs to go in a different direction if he’s going to have any chance to get through to her.  He plays to his audience, losing himself in an empty stare over her shoulder, and as soon as she notices – as soon as those perfectly plucked eyebrows furrow in the instant before he knows she’d ask what’s wrong, he thumps his chest over his heart with both fists and flings himself off the bench, falling to the forest floor in a heap of frizzy hair and gangly limbs.
“You wound me, Chrissy!” he bawls from his sorry position on the ground, and her abrupt, gaspy Ohh! has him grinning, relieved that he’s at least got her attention.  Eddie scrambles to his feet, delighted  to see Chrissy simultaneously stunned and amused, the blush in her cheeks back as she giggles at his antics.
It’s like he’s in junior high again with how he throws himself headfirst into his little amateur slapstick comedy routine, one he knows has pulled countless laughs from the girl sitting opposite him over the years.  
“Honestly,” Eddie laments, and catching the way she giggles as she eyes his appearance, he waves his arms around his frame.  “What, do I have stuff in my hair?”  He’s positively beaming now that she’s smiling her genuine Chrissy smile at him while he crudely brushes the leaves from his curls.  “No memory at all, huh?”
“I’m sorry, I – I don’t!”
He’s not really surprised, or at least he figures he shouldn’t be.  “Huh.”  Eddie crosses his arms, casting his eyes to the dusty ground as he shuffles his feet towards the picnic table. 
Chrissy’s mouth pinches into a politely pained expression.  “I was a little preoccupied with – with, uh…”
He almost finishes her sentence.  He almost says breaking my heart, but he holds his tongue.  She didn’t really, if he’s being truthful with himself.  Eddie waves his hand, a kind forgiveness of his temporarily wounded pride that’s since recovered.
If you don’t count last night, that is.  
“Water under the bridge, Chris,” he intones softly, the browns of his eyes darken with sincerity as he reminds her, “I said you could still come to me if you needed anything.”
Something flashes across her face, and Eddie thinks she looks almost grateful.  She almost looks like herself, and that spurs Eddie on.  He’s clearly on the right track, and if he can just keep the mood light, maybe he’ll be able to loosen her up and find a way to help.
“I mean, that’s why I’m here,” he reasons as he gestures to his surroundings.  “You don’t have to feel nervous about asking me for weed.  In fact, I’m glad you came to me. Wouldn't want you buying it off of anybody else.” 
She nods, like she’s silently agreeing.  A small smile tugs at the corner of her shapely mouth.  “You know, you’re not what I thought –” she cuts herself off and sighs.  “Yeah, Eds.  I was a little nervous.  Thought you might be mean about it.”
His grin widens to hide his disappointment.  “Mean and scary?” She shrugs shyly, and he steers himself away from getting defensive, opting to make a joke instead.  “I actually kinda thought you’d be mean and scary too.” 
Not true, but it does the trick.  A genuine Chrissy Cunningham smile blazes over her features, its radiance seems to brighten the whole goddamn woods around him.
“Me?” she whispers coyly, the grin she wears rounds her cheeks and nearly reaches her eyes.
“Terrifying, Chris,” Eddie teases as he joins her back at the table.  “Terrifying.”
Dainty fingers drum against the worn wood.  “You did say that, though,” her feather-soft voice admits lightly, almost sadly.
“So you do remember?”
“I remember it kinda shocked me at the time, considering…” she trails off with a hesitant flick of her gaze to Eddie’s.  “With an offer like that, how could I forget?”
“Even if it took me gracefully reminding you –” he jests, warmth blooming in his cheeks as she chuckles.  “But even in the hall?” Eddie tosses his thumb behind him over his shoulder, “I could tell something was wrong.  I – I’d never be mean if you needed help.”
The light extinguishes behind her baby blues, her lips fall back into that heavy frown wrought in distress as she goes silent.  He’s almost desperate now, consumed with the fiery need to fucking be able to be useful and actually do something.  He has to admit that it feels nice, validating – to be needed in this capacity by her.  
Not her, specifically, and he does well to remind himself of it.  It would be anyone.  Could be anyone… though he wishes it was you.
Eddie gently clears his throat, swallowing the ball of emotion that threatens to betray his concerns.  “The good news here is, as I’m sure you remember… flattery works with me.”  Eddie draws his confidence from his toes, figuring more wouldn’t exactly hurt in this situation.  He plays up his dramatics a touch, and Chrissy huffs a small laugh.  “Twenty-five percent discount for the half.  Fifteen bucks.”  He plays up his faux chagrin with a crooked smile.  “You’re robbing me blind here, Cunningham.”  
She doesn’t bite.  Internally, he chastises himself, maybe that flattery bit went a little too far and he’s made her uncomfortable but… the twitch in her frown, the anxious way she peers at him through her lashes and asks,
“Do you have anything… maybe… stronger?”
Has his whole world turning upside down.
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Nap.
You need a nap.  A quick hour-long rest, maybe a little more if you can manage, in the comfort of your bed before Eddie gets home from Hellfire will surely help wash away all the memories from this morning that still make you cringe some thirteen hours later.  
Oh, god.  You should not have faked it.
The guilt ate at your insides all day while you worked your shift at the bank.  Gnawing, churning, prickling guilt that clawed its way into your bones and had you regretting every last artificial moan that rolled out of your stupid mouth last night.  How could you do that to him?  Shit, how could you do that to yourself?
You clearly weren’t thinking.  Not in your right mind.  If you’re being honest, you haven’t been in your right mind for quite some time and Eddie has taken the brunt of that and you know it.  It’s mortifying enough that he knows you faked it, but that you straight-up lied about it, too.  You saw the hurt flash across his face and felt it in that pathetic excuse for a kiss goodnight that had him very obviously not returning your whispered assurance of love before you tucked yourself into his side and willed yourself not to cry in his arms.  
Nope.  A nap. 
You’re going to take a nap, wake up refreshed and relaxed and ready to spill your goddamn guts to the love of your life and explain why you were such an idiot last night.  As you settle under your comforter, the millions of ways to convey your apology filter in and out of your weary mind, all better than the last.  You’re aware that words would probably be best, but then there’s the overwhelming urge you’ve had since lunch to back him up against his door and fall to your knees in front of him, and let your well-trained gag reflex do all the talking for you.
A ghost of a smile plays on your lips – you can almost feel his fingers in your hair as he guides your head down the ample length of his cock before your fatigue convinces you to freefall into a deep sleep.
Two hours and thirty-five minutes later, you awaken with a start to the telltale rumbling of a Chevy van down the main drive of the trailer park.  Hastily blinking the sleep from your bleary eyes, you throw off the covers and stumble to your closet, pulling on an old Hawkins High crewneck before rummaging through your dresser for a pair of socks.  
Though you’re not yet fully awake, you feel a strange feeling crawl down your spine, unwelcome but familiar all the same.  It’s not nerves or anxiety or even fear – a part of you isn’t even sure what it is until you catch a glimpse of the scene out your bedroom window.
Betrayal.
Your eyes go round, staunchly unblinking as you process Eddie’s dramatic display of chivalry, arms splayed wide as he welcomes Chrissy fucking Cunningham out of his van and into his trailer without so much as a glance back at yours.
Your mind races.  This is not happening – there is no way in hell this is happening, but oh, fuck – it is.  You see it.  You see her.  You see your boyfriend escort her into his home, the Eddie Munson charm thick and evident from where you stand frozen in your room.  
Eddie’s front door squeals as it's opened, knocking you out of your trance.  You don’t want to watch, but you can’t bring yourself to tear your eyes away from slender legs and polyester skirts and sweeping, too-friendly leather-clad arms before they disappear inside the trailer, leaving the park silent once again.
If you would have blinked, you would have missed it.
But you didn’t.
The threat of tears burns your eyes, the lump in your throat is hot with emotion, fingers trembling as you wrench your socks on the rest of the way.  A dozen different scenarios, each more terrible and graphic than the last, rolls through your mind like a nightmare you can’t wake yourself from, consuming you and pulling you farther into the black hole of spiraling foregone conclusions.
You’re not even aware you’ve pulled on your running shoes until you throw yourself out the front door and nearly run straight into Max’s chest on the landing.
“What are you doing?”
Your sister’s sudden materialization startles you but not enough to crack the stony mask that’s hardened the lines of your face.
You ignore her question.  “Where’s mom?”
“Uh, I –” Max whips her head around and looks over to the Munson trailer, like double-checking the scene will somehow give the Mayfield girls an explanation as to why the fuck Eddie would bring his ex-lover into his trailer alone.  ALONE.   “Sh-she went to the store.”
Your head tips back on your shoulders in disgust.  That could potentially mean one of two things:  one, she actually went to the store, more than likely to replenish her dwindling liquor stash; or two: she’s at a bar, opting to have someone else help her replenish her dwindling liquor stash.  Both of those options suck for you because you'd really, really appreciate the car at this particular moment.
“God fucking damn it,” you mutter as you run a hand through your hair.  Your option for a quick getaway has vaporized.  You internally chastise yourself – you should have taken the keys before you retreated to your room and slept the goddamn evening away after she brought you home from work.  
You snort indignantly.  Why would you?  There was no need for you to even consider having the car for the night; even with how weird things were this morning, there’s no way you would have predicted Eddie doing this.  
Max tries to meet your virulent gaze that burns a hole in the front door of the Munson trailer.  “Why don’t you just go over –”
“Oh, and interrupt their little – little – whateverthefuck that is?!” you unnecessarily whisper-shriek, like he’s going to actually hear you from twenty yards away.  “No.  Fuck that and fuck him.  I’m out of here.”
Max’s eyes round comically.  “Are you gonna steal his van?”
Your mouth opens automatically to answer in the negative and you stop yourself, considering that particular option for a beat too long.  “You cannot be serious,” Max hisses, effectively breaking you out of your contemplative trance.
“I – no,” you finally stammer, voice wobbling dangerously on the brink of a breakdown.  “Where’s your bike?”
Somehow, to Max, this is worse.  “What?!  Fucking – no, sis!  What the actual fuck?”
You wave her off, not even bothering to scold her for the rapid-fire f-bombs.  “No, I know where it is.  I’m getting the hell out of here.”
“N-no, wait – where are you going?”
“Steve’s.”
“Harrington?”
You know you shouldn’t take it out on your sister, but self-control unravels quickly as your anger rises and you find yourself snapping, “Do you know of any other Steves, Max?”
Max lets it go, but barely.  “Don’t get snippy with me,” she warns.  “I’m just asking. ”
You bite your lip, nodding as you cast your eyes down at your shoes.  “I know.  Sorry.”  Trembling fingers angrily wipe a tear away from your eye as you toe the ground.  “I’ll call you when I get there, ‘kay?”
Max nervously looks at you, to the Munson trailer, and then back at you.  “Are you sure you don’t wanna go over there and just… I don't know…”
Swallowing down a sob, you scurry to the end of the trailer and wrench Max’s bike from its perch, silently thanking Mother Nature for gifting you a bike-ride friendly evening in late March.  
“Yeah,” your voice cracks as you affirm, swinging your leg over the seat, “I’m really fucking sure.”
Forest Hills Trailer Park flies by in a blur of salt and fury, and as you turn on to the country road that’ll lead you to Loch Nora, your heart grows heavy with the realization that you’re on your way to bare your soul to a man that’s not your soulmate, not the love of your fucking life – and just like him, you never once bothered to look back.
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Steve’s house isn’t as far away as you anticipated.  Or, maybe the journey just went by in a zoned-out haze of onyx shadows and yellow headlights. The too-aggressive knocking fueled by your leftover adrenaline is answered swiftly by a very surprised Steve, his amber eyes alight with genuine concern as he hurries you through the door into his empty house.
The gravity of the last hour starts to fall on your shoulders, and Steve senses it.  A gentle hand between your shoulder blades guides you carefully to the living room couch, and he practically trips over himself as he rushes to the TV to turn the basketball game to a more acceptable volume.
You’re not nervous to be there with Steve alone, though the more vapid details of your fight with Eddie that stemmed from your last time spent alone with a male floods your brain so fast it makes your head swim.  There’s a war raging inside your mind, one side that’s pissed you left and the other that’s even more pissed you felt you had to in the first place.  Each is correct with points well made, and you bury your face in your hands as you try to make sense of it all.
Steve observes you in stunned silence unsure if you need to talk or even plan on it.  After a moment, he leaves the room and from what you recall of the vast layout of his home, he’s gone to his dad’s study.
That pulls a weak smile over your lips behind your palms.  Why not bust out the good stuff tonight?
Heavy footsteps echo over polished wood floors and vaulted ceilings.  He stops in front of you and wordlessly hands you a heavy green bottle with Nolet’s across the label decorated in silver lettering.
You tip Steve an incredulous eyebrow.  “Gin?”
“Trust me,” he snickers as he takes the bottle back from you and heads to the kitchen.  He rummages through a glass-encased cabinet and pulls out two very fancy looking tumblers.  “Fuckin’ good,” he calls as the ice clinks its tinkling song against the glass.  “I could drink this shit for breakfast.”
You huff a quiet laugh, and the vise-grip of pain and self-pity eases in your chest somewhat.  You tip Steve a small smile when he saunters back into the room, hands full and eyebrow raised.
“You wanna talk about why you showed up at my house on a child’s bike at like – ten o’clock on a Friday when you should be with Eddie?”
“No,” you mutter as you take a long gulp from your glass.  “I’d like to get drunk first, and then I’ll consider telling you.”
“Consider?”
You murmur a sweet little Mmmhm as you savor the spicy citrus flavor of your drink.  You rattle the glass gently, calling attention to the adorable chartreuse slice that the ice cradles at the rim.  “Of course Steve Harrington has fresh limes.”
Steve guffaws as he settles on the couch next to you.  “You makin’ fun of me, Mayfield?”
“Always.”  
The tumbler in Steve’s hand never makes it to his lips.  It’s held in midair as big hazel eyes watch with trepidation as you knock your entire drink back in one swift go.   
“Wow,” Steve swallows audibly, snatching your glass from your hand before you have a chance to rise from the couch.  “Bad night, huh?”  
You nod, placing your palms on your knees to hoist yourself upwards.  
“No, hey – I got it,” your protest withers in your throat when Steve stands and eyes you over his nose.  
Oh.  You know that look.  
Though the well-intended severity does the job to keep you seated, his mouth lilts up in an easy smile.  “No, I got you.  Just chill, okay?”
You feel a little guilty for showing up unannounced and then basically forcing the man to wait on you hand and foot.  It’s apparent that Steve doesn’t mind, and you know that he revels in this – being everyone’s go-to guy, but a part of you still feels like you’re taking advantage.
“I’m not interrupting anything?” you ask when Steve hands you your refill.
“Uhh, no.  Just some Big Ten basketball, which –” he waves his hand dismissively while the other reaches for his own drink, “don’t really care.  You’re more important.”
Warmth blooms in your chest, and though the rooms swims a bit as you down a healthy portion of his pour, you stay anchored right next to him, the obvious rock-solid foundation of your fucked-up little party.  You know in your heart that this isn’t a good idea, drinking so much on an empty stomach and maybe drinking alone with Steve in general, but you reckon you deserve to get drunk with your friend, and get drunk fast.  Maybe succumbing to a gin-induced serenity will help loosen your lips and ease the ache for Eddie that just burns hot as ever in your chest.   
Besides, the man who is supposedly ass-over-feet in love with you waltzed into his trailer alone with his ex-whatever like it was the most casual, normal thing in the world.  Yeah, fuck it.  You can discuss just how you plan to fucking deal with it with Steve; you know in your heart that he’ll know just what to say.
Just not yet.  
The glass balances heavily on your knee, your finger swirls over the thick ridges dotted with cool condensation.  “Tell me a story, Steve.”
His shoulders shake as he chuffs humorlessly.  “You sure you don’t wanna tell me a story?”
“You go first,” you’re insistent as you sigh, glancing at him before staring back at your glass.  “My story sucks.”
The usual errant stands of sandy hair fall to his forehead as he nods.  “I gathered that.  Okay.  You want a happy story or a funny story or a –”
“Do you remember when we first met?”
“Ahh.  Happy story it is,” his voice is warm like spiced cinnamon, and slinging a comforting arm around your shoulders, he heaves a long exhale.  “I do.  God, your step-brother was such a dickhead, but I was kinda glad for it that day.”
“Me too.” You pull a sour face as you remember.  “Kind of.  Leaving me at Bradley’s just to go off somewhere and fuck Tina –”
“Actually, I think it was Reina,” Steve corrects with a shudder.  “Or wait, no!” his hand over your shoulder spins in the air as he mentally grapples for the name, snapping his deft fingers when he arrives on, “Tabitha?”
“Probably all three, knowing him.”
Steve’s head flops against the back of the couch as he scoffs a laugh.  “Gross.”
“Yeah, no shit.  God, I was so pissed.  And you –”
His grip tightens around your shoulder, remembering.  “I was buying those roses for Nancy.”
“You were so sweet to offer me a ride home.”
“Well, it was the least I could do.  I was gonna show up at her door with yellow roses if it wasn’t for you.”
“I couldn’t let you do that,” you giggle at Steve’s bashful little grin.  “And bam, now look,” you jest as your head rests against his shoulder.  “Friends.”
“Well, I think our friendship really began when Dustin tried to kick you out of the front seat and demanded that I take him to his house.”  Steve’s eyes get a faraway look in them, losing their focus as he stares past his hand that cradles his gin.  “It got you roped into all of the crazy Upside Down horseshit, but –”
“Hey, no,” your feather-soft tone soothes with a reassuring squeeze to his arm.  “I got you, too.”
“Yeah,” he hums, trailing off into another contemplative silence.  He exhales a sharp breath through his nose, almost like he’s laughing at a private joke.  “You know… when we were at the Byers house?  Sorting through all their shit for like, space heaters and stuff, I – I remember looking at you and thinking you were pretty cute.”
Your brows furrow in good-natured incredulity, heart thudding fondly with what you know is so sweet but entirely untrue.  “No, you didn’t.”
Steve flashes you a dazzling smile that’s full of sheepish charm.  “I swear to you, I did.”
“C’mon,” you admonish playfully with a roll of your eyes.  “You don’t need to make shit up just because you feel sorry for me.”
That pulls a hearty laugh straight from his belly.  “I don’t even know what’s going on so no, I’m not making shit up.  I, um… I felt something for you.”  You shoot him a look that reads like come the fuck on, and he stands firm as he reiterates, “Really!  I did!”
You can’t deny, this little confession has you feeling heat from your flush that creeps from your chest into your neck.  “Nah,” you rock the side of your body into his solid frame, “I think you were just so used to feeling something for Nancy, and I was just there…”
Steve opens his mouth to retort, and the lofty eyebrow you raise has him considering his words carefully.  He may want to remember it this way, but you know better.  You were there too, after all.  
He finally relents with a soft grunt.  “I don’t think you give yourself nearly enough credit, Mayfield.”
“I think you’re overthinking it, Harrington.”  The rest of your drink is polished off and this time, you rise from your seat before he can tell you otherwise.  Steve rolls his eyes as he finishes his and hands it over, trying his best to hide a grin that mirrors yours as you snatch his glass and head toward the kitchen. 
“Feelings needed… projected, Steve –” you rationalize over your shoulder with a shrug, “– or something.  Even just for a few moments.  It happens.”
“Hmm.  That’s deep for just one drink in.  Make my next one a double, yeah?”
“Oh, I’m definitely doing that.”  You weren’t really sure about the proper ratio for these fancy gin and tonics anyway, and since the point is to get drunk, you’re just fine to get heavy-handed with the remaining Nobel’s .  A thought bursts into your mind and it takes an enormous effort from your tipsy brain to deliver it candidly.
“I was the first girl over the age of like fuckin’ thirteen that you’d seen in days.  Our best little babysitter, Steve.”
“Ohhhkay – that’s not at all –” he hollers from the couch and you cackle, “just shut up, Mayfield.”
You hand him his glass with a flourish and his grateful smirk is sarcastic, clearly a little miffed with your babysitter dig.  It’s hard to feel bad, and so you don’t – he loves it just as much as those kids do.
He’s still insistent, more so after another healthy swig that has him grimacing when he swallows.  “I did though.  It was a little like, tiny spark but it was there.”
“You sure it wasn’t the shitty space heaters throwin’ sparks?”
“Oh, my god.” Steve mutters, the endearing blush in his cheeks deepening.  “Yeah.  I’m sure.”
The ice tinkles against the glass in your hand, almost louder than your whispered admission.  “Me, too.”
Steve’s eyes round, blinking rapidly before dipping his chin to look at you.  “What?”
You heave a sharp sigh though your nose, pursing your lips knowingly.  “I did, too, if I’m being honest.”  You crook him a grin as he stares at you dumbfounded.  “Oh c'mon Steve.  Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m looking at.”
Your sweet friend chuffs and runs hand nervously through hair before scrubbing it down his face.  “No, I do. Or, at least I did.”
You’ve never once met his parents in the nineteen months that you’ve known Steve Harrington, and each time he gets like this – so devastatingly unsure of himself – you wish for the opportunity.  You’d love nothing more than to look them dead in the eye and beg them to help you understand why any part of this man isn’t worth their precious time… why he wasn’t enough to nurture into the confidence he so deserves.
Your chest is tight as it expands with a shaky breath.  “You should still know.”
Steve watches as your fingers wrap in a comforting bracelet around his wrist, but he can’t help the bitterness that leeches in his tone.  “Oh, what, that I’m a catch?” he says dryly, twisting his arm away to plunk his glass down on a coaster before lacing his fingers with yours, grateful for the affection.  You think you hear him sniff.   “Give me a break.” 
“You are,” you affirm softly, squeezing his hand to make your point.
Steve huffs thickly.  “The best that fuckin Hawkins Family Video has to offer.”
Your lips tingle as they press together, the memory of the large swallow of gin and tonic water you just downed still fresh on your sensitive skin.
“I think Buckley’s got you there, my dear.”  You cock your head to the side and embellish your lighthearted jab with a goofy grin while Steve groans.  “But you’re definitely second best!”
He nudges your shoulder with his own.  “You’re not helping at all here, Mayfield.”
“Sorry.  Couldn’t resist.”  You smirk softly to yourself as you lay your head on his shoulder. “You are a catch. I knew that even then, but…”
Steve ventures a guess when you trail off your thoughts. “Not your type?”
“Yes and no?  I think it was more that I could see who still had…” You swallow, treading so lightly you feel like you’re floating.  “Who still had your heart.”
Steve belts a groan, his cheek resting heavily on the crown of your head.  “God damn it.”
“It’s not a bad thing.”
“Says you. Fuckin’ obvious as fuck, apparently.”
The serenity you seek from the bottom of that emerald green bottle has yet to make its appearance, the events of the evening are at the forefront of your mind as you whisper, 
“Beats being all blocked up about it.”  You steel yourself away from the memory that flashes behind your eyelids, a vivid heartache of twisted images with perky, high ponytails and a dark mop of frizzy curls.  
“Sometimes it really doesn’t,” Steve mutters, and you blink back tears while focusing on the way his mouth curls south in a deep frown.  He gestures aggressively in front of him with one hand while tightening his grip on your shoulder with the other.  “I mean, I’ve been dumped before.  Nothing’s ever lingered like this.”
You nod slowly, biting your lip against the emotion that wells in your throat.  “Steve…”
“Yeah?”
“I’m gonna ask you something, and I swear to you I’m not being mean or anything.  I don’t think there’s a right answer because sometimes I don’t even know…”
Hazel eyes round in hesitant curiosity.  “Okay?”
“Do you love Nancy, or do you love the idea of her?”
“I – wow.”  He can barely meet your eyes as he brings his large hand to wring the back of his neck. “Um…”  Steve almost looks pained as he mentally chews on your words before his face ignites in shock.  “Wait, what do you mean by you don’t even know?”
“It’s stupid, I know I’m being ridiculous,” you mutter in a rush, trying your best to gloss over your slip.  You’re not quite tipsy enough to get into this now, though you’ve decided deep down that you want to.
Steve Harrington is not about to let this go.  “No, you’re not.  Talk to me.  It’s your turn.”
The melted remnants of the gin and tonic at the bottom of your glass aren’t enough, and you make grabby hands at Steve’s glass, who readily hands it over with a low chuckle.
You down his drink in one gulp, coughing as the liquor burns bitter at the back of your throat.  “I um, I wonder… if Eddie j-just loves – um, if he doesn’t – fuck,” you mutter as you bury your heated cheeks into your hands.  “I can’t even say it.”
“Oh, honey – Eddie fucking adores you.  Of course he loves you.  We’ve talked about this…”
A high-pitched whine squeaks through your nose.  “Yeah, that was before I saw his ex-dream girl go into his fucking trailer with him tonight.”
Steve bolts upright off the couch.  “What?!”
“Y-yeah.”  A tear slides down your cheek and you wipe it away angrily.  Steve’s heated reaction has you realizing how utterly infuriated you should be at this whole situation, and you lean into it willingly.  “I saw Eddie practically escort Chrissy into his trailer b-before I came over.  Max did, too.  He – he didn’t even – he was so fucking obvious about it.  Like, didn’t even try to hide…”
Steve shoves both hands into his waves, yanking at his strands as he paces a frustrated path in front of you.  “He – he wouldn’t.  Mayfield, come on,” he rationalizes, though you don’t miss how his voice wobbles.  “I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation –”
You snort derisively as you cross your arms protectively over your chest.  “There always seems to be in these situations.  You know?”
Steve stops suddenly, glassy hazel eyes knowingly round in understanding.  “Yeah, I do know.”
Your lips press in a thin line, your tongue feels heavy as you spit, “It’s bullshit.”
“It is bullshit.”  He readily agrees, kneeling in front of you and placing both hands on your knees.  You can tell his mind is going a thousand miles a minute, trying to make sense of something that is just so outlandishly wrong.  “But it doesn’t mean that anything happened,” he murmurs, his honey-rich tone soothing in the best way.  “You kinda ran to me before you even let him explain.”
You know he’s right but you just can’t face it.  “Would you have stayed, Steve?  Marched over there and barged in just to see them f-fucking –”
His fingers tighten around the denim of your jeans.  “Mayfield, don’t.”
Your head drops between your shoulders, unable to meet those amber-flecked orbs to confess something you’ve been ashamed to admit even to yourself.  
“Guess I wouldn’t blame him if he did.  I’ve been pushing him away, a little.”
That takes him by surprise.  “Oh?”
“I don’t know,” you groan, elongating the o.   “Not even that, more like… I haven’t been making him a priority.”  Steve’s obviously taken aback by your revelation, and you reflexively amend your wording.  “Not intentionally!  With all this shit going on, I just – I needed to be there for Max and my fucking mom and I probably drove him away.  Right into the arms of Chrissy goddamn Cunningham.”  You let yourself relax into the couch in a grouchy huff, lip curling upward in a sardonic, self-deprecating sneer.  “Bet he’s glad he’s got her back, at least he knows he can make her come –” 
Steve rears back on his feet, throwing his body off-balance as he lands on his ass on the plush living room rug.  “Woah, oh my god Mayfield, no!!”  
“Ugh, I know!” You vehemently acknowledge what you perceive is your mutual horror for your shortcomings in bed with Eddie.  “It was such a fluke with the whole not coming anyway, it’s never actually happe –”
Steve flings himself backwards so he’s lying flat on the floor, hands covering his eyes with familiar over-the-top theatrics, like not seeing you will take away his terrific embarrassment with the current topic of conversation.
“NO, I mean – Jesus Christ, I draw the line at fucking orgasms with my best friends, I’m sorry!”
A disbelieving laugh bubbles over your lips.  “Oh, so Daddy kinks are okay, but the inability to come –”
Steve’s chest is heaving, hands fisted in his hair as he bellows from his supine position on the rug, “STOP SAYING COME –”
You’re laughing outright now, the hilarity of how ridiculous this all sounds is heightened undoubtedly by the gin that courses through your veins, making your heart light and your tongue heavy.  “Steve, we literally discussed like, bondage and shit –”
“The conversation never got that far, oh my god!”  Though it seems physically painful for him to have this discussion with you, his smile is as wide as ever.
Until he gasps, an exaggerated inhale that gets caught in his throat as he jolts upright.  “Wait, what in the fuck , does Munson make you call him Daddy?!”
Your eyes widen, blinking a couple of times as you grimace.  “Do you really want me to answer that question?”
Steve’s jaw drops as he falls into a fit of maniacal laughter.  
“I will never, never be able to look at you the same way again!” he wheezes through reedy gasps, “you seriously, you call him –”
Your abdomen burns with how hard it's seizing, your giggles unrelenting.  “Steve, stop – you have to stop –”
Steve’s hand whips to his side to tug on your ankle, guiding you from the safety of your perch on the couch to lie next to him on the floor.  “What in the fuck, Eddie Munson has you calling him – ” you cut him off with a very loud, Robin Buckley-esque snort and that sends you both into another fit of side-splitting laughter.  
Steve recovers enough after a beat, the aftershocks of his hysterics still rhythmically puffing through his open mouth.  “I don’t think I can look him in those goddamn cartoon eyes after this.”
You lose your breath as the smile drops from your face.  “Well, you might not have to.”
“Hey.  No.  Not doing that,” Steve’s palm latches to your bicep when he turns on his side towards you, propping himself on a tanned, sinewy forearm.  “It’ll be okay, I know it will.”
You close your eyes and swallow hard.  “I hope you’re right.”
He gives you a reassuring pat on the arm before returning to his back.  The two of you are quiet for some time, lost in thought.
“Thanks,” Steve murmurs thickly, “for coming to me.”
You see an infinite amount of sincerity in his darkened hazel eyes when you turn to him and reply, “It was actually a really easy decision.”
Steve’s lower lids glisten, his pink lips folding inward in a thin, sentimental smile.  “Love you.”
“Aghh, shit.  I love you too, Harrington.”  And you do.  You’re infinitely grateful for the genuine friend you have in the man lying next to you on what’s undoubtedly a very comfortable and overpriced rug in his family room.  “You know, you get really sappy when you’re drunk.”
“Hardly drunk,” Steve snorts, a little louder than intended and you press your lips together to suppress a laugh, “and you over-fucking-share.  Jesus.”
“Oh, whatever,” you scoff to the ceiling.
“You’re right though,” he concedes, eyes rounding as he blinks away the brine in his eyes.  “I do get sappy.  God damn, I’m so fucking soft.  What in the hell happened?”
“Oh, darling Steve,” you cackle behind a deluge of giggles that has you bracing your belly again, “yo-you became a mommy. ”
His elongated, exasperated sigh echoes off the high ceilings and makes you both laugh harder.
“I hate you so much right now.”
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“What the fuck… what the fuck is happening right now…”
The pounding in your head answers that question, though you feel right to mutter it to the bare wall of the Harrington guest room, anyway.   Regrettable consciousness at six in the morning creeps in quickly despite the catacombs of sleep you fell headlong into once you and Steve polished off the rest of the bottle – a decision you’re sure to despise as the day goes on.  
Steve is in a similar sorry state, the tacky remnants of his hair product have his tresses jutting at odd angles from his face that’s still pinched and puffy with sleep.  You narrow your eyes at him as he wordlessly fixes you coffee in his enormous kitchen, the hangover not enough to chase away the envy of his dumb genetics and how stupidly handsome he is with no effort at all.
Though the coffee smells delightful, it does nothing to quell the churning in your gut.  Steve loads your bike in the back of his car and drives you back to your trailer; as you get closer to your destination, you’re not sure if it’s the hangover or the stale smell of cigarette smoke mixed with weathered leather that makes you feel like you’re going to upchuck the ham and cheese sandwich you insistent on Steve make for you around two in the morning, but the urge is overwhelming.  You keep your teeth clenched and tongue pressed to the roof of your mouth the entire rocky ride home until the bottom falls out from under you and has your jaw dropping in complete and utter surprise.
Eddie’s van is gone.
Steve glances at you out of the corner of his eye, and seeing yours well with tears, he offers a comforting hand on your shoulder, keeping it there for several moments while he shifts the car in park and you find a way to make yourself breathe again.  
Eddie’s van is gone.
The plan you concocted in your mind last night and then solidified on the drive over vanishes; all the confidence you convinced yourself to summon from the depths of your (very dehydrated) being vanishes.  Vaporizes in a fine mist that burns away in the early morning sun.  The option is no longer there – you have no hope for resolution now.  No explanation.  No chance to reconcile and understand.
Because Eddie is gone.
“Oh, honey –”
Steve’s hand tightens around the back of your neck, pulling you toward him in an awkward side-hug that does nothing to dam the tears that spill over your lower lids or the sobs that tumble freely over trembling lips.
“He’s gone.”
Steve opens his mouth, sucks in a deep breath to offer something, anything, to make you feel better about what this could mean – but nothing comes out.  He knows, just as much as you do, that there are no words in a situation like this.  
“I gotta work today,” Steve says gently as he gives your shoulder one more squeeze before letting go.  “Come by if you need to talk or… not.”  He chuffs genially as he tips you a crooked smile.  “Seriously, come by.  Saturday mornings are boring and we can just not talk together.”
You nod absently, knowing that you won’t.  “Thanks for everything Steve, but I – I think I’m just gonna go to bed.”
He assures you that’s the right choice, too – quietly wishing you sweet dreams as you let yourself out of his car.  Ever the gentleman, Steve waves you inside as he pops his trunk, insisting he wrestle with Max’s bike and you go take at least two aspirin before you fall under your covers, which is exactly what you do.
The old alarm clock on your nightstand reads 6:23.  While turning away from the soft, muted yellows and whites from the morning sun that stream through your window, you miss how the blocky numbers shine bright; they crescendo into a more brilliant red before flickering in rhythmic, rapid succession before completely going blank with a soft, snappy electric pop.
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Next Chapter ➡️
Tag List: @pagesfalling@nymqphet@fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes@chloe-6123@winchester-angel@angel-ann-pops@bibooozeta@unverifiedmeatsuit@littlegingerbat@lottie-90@trixyvixx
Page dividers by the WONDERFUL @corrodedseraphine
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2bhankfan · 6 months
Note
give me your doc headcanons immediately + thoughts on the fact that doc was in on the betrayal at the end of M:PN (he provided the rocket launcher)
okay focusing on the betrayal part first I was gonna be like "he definitely would not ask Hank to try and kill Sanford & Deimos?" and I completely stand by that. But I also forgot Jeb was there too. Doc would ABSOLUTELY tell Hank to launch Jeb's ass off that fucking tower I KNOW he's petty like that even if he doesn't show it.
Doc and Jeb's relationship I think is constantly a petty battle to show which is better. I think Jeb does this by trying to act like he's "above" everything Doc is doing, (attempting in) showing that he has more grace than to send his goons to do his dirty work (<- hypocrite, has already done so with sheriff & hofnarr) and participate in such vile experiments like what doc's doing for revival (<- STILL a hypocrite. while always against reviving people he like, still made some pretty heinous shit like the sleepwalker program.) Doc on the other hand knows Jeb is doing this all to get a step up on him and absolutely is just doing this to be petty (Ex-AAHW and all that, very likely he worked with Jeb at some point even if not side by side) so pointing out his hypocritical remarks ONLY in places he can't defend himself against (so like, important to say doc isn't saying "oh but you were a nexus scientist!" in response to "ghoulish experiments" but INSTEAD "well, you weren't complaining when i was putting you back together" so he like. literally cant come back from that) and fucking with him by letting hank just maul the shit out of the guy is also a really funny and really petty thing to do. "Thanks for helping me achieve my goal, STUPID! MR WIMBLETON KILL THIS CHARLATAN."
i think hank and 2bd probably bond over this a little bit too LOL. they may be opposites in so many ways but they fucking HATE that little prick. entitled, hypocritical, and most of all a pain in the ass to deal with.
okay finally; ETC DOC HEADCANONS
bottom surgery king
u know that thing autistic people do where they look the most bored out of their mind and in reality they're like actually having a really good time. Yeah
i think not only is her house VERY cold but he has like an abysmal amount of coolers, like from all the dead bodies and organs and shit she has to preserve just to perform all this experiments and most importantly COMPUTERS GET SOOO HOT WHEN THEY RUN A LOT & FOR LONG!! HIS ASS HAS SO MANY.
very warm body though (and also probably why he wears a fur lined coat? u saw the live action trailer ...)
i'll die on this hill forever but he fucking loves experimental music and raves and especially shit like bull of heaven and venetian snares and drill & bass music and anything weirdo and light. probably also felix kubin. my friend is Music Pilling Me
dogshit at gaming. still god at puzzles (minesweeper + crossword + picross ...)
i think at times he has to get with skinner to fix hank up and shit like sometimes it's so bad that shit needs to get peer reviewed.
to add onto that: so in canon the goggles he wears apparently has a HUD according to the arena mode description. wikihow "how to do surgery" alongside "grunt anatomy diagram" on the side
i'll probably do another 2bhank headcanon megapost (likely with repeats but no one really gives a fuck abt that part) bc those are pretty much the rest of my headcanons. maybe even just a hank-only post?! hope you enjoyed 🫶🫶❤️🫶❤️
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Note
max mayfield x reader where reader is like tomboyish and eddies sister and they fall in love since they're neighbors
ok first fic officially!!! Please correct me on any mistakes as I am currently on mobile. I hope this was up to your expectations.
Warnings: none really.
Ships: Max Mayfield x reader, platonic!Eddie Munson x reader
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God did you hate this school. Actually- no. You hated this whole town. You just wanted it to burn to the ground one day. You walked to your home, sighing heavily as you walked up the porch to the door.
You closed the door as you walked into your trailer. You looked towards your brother who was already on the couch watching the small tv you had in the living room.
“Finally you’re home, jellybean” Eddie smiled at you. You rolled your eyes as you plopped down on the couch beside him. You hated that nickname. You choked on a jellybean once.
“Yeah yeah, whatever” you grumbled “what are we having for dinner?” You turned your head towards him.
“Actually…I was kinda gonna leave that decision up to you” he responded sheepishly as you groaned once more.
“Let’s just order pizza or something then?” You suggested. Eddie just shrugged in agreement and got in his van to drive to the nearest pizza joint and you walked to your room.
You got to your room and put you book bag on the back of their chair at your desk. You sat on your bed and looked out of the window. You smiled at the sight you saw on the other side.
On the other side of the thin glass wall was the you neighbors’ trailer, their window across from yours. You stared a while longer at the one and only Max Mayfield.
See, you kinda had a crush on her ever since she moved in a couple of months ago, but you were too shy to talk to her.
Max looked up from reading her comic to see you staring with curious eyes. You quickly looked away, a blush evident on your face as you pretended to look busy.
You peeked back up at Max to see her walking out of her trailer and over to your window. You walked up closer to your window.
She tapped on your window signaling for you to open it, to which you complied.
“Why don’t you take a picture? Lasts longer,” she spoke to you with a teasing smile on her face.
“Was that the only reason you came over here? That sure seems like a good thirty seconds of your life taking that trek over here wasted…”
“Since you obviously won’t do it because you are literally the definition of a coward, and because I have seem to have grown a liking to you, could I interest you in coming over to my trailer and hanging out?” She asked
“I- um, sure,” you were taken aback at first, mostly because she insulted you, but agreed nonetheless.
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Since the day Max had invited you over, you two were almost inseparable. If you weren’t by her, she was by you. She was part of your daily routine, it didn’t matter when or where you would see her, you always did.
Right now you and Max were in your room, you studying for your test you had the next day, and Max reading a book.
“I was thinking about going skating later, wanna come with?” Max asked you.
“Sure, just lemme finish reading this one part…” you answered her.
“Umm, y/n/n?”
“Yeah?” You turned in your chair to look at Max.
“I think…I think I lov- LIKE- I mean, I think I like you” She tripped over her words.
You paused for a second and looked at Max. “Really?”
“Y-yeah”
“Good. Because I like you too.” You looked into her eyes.
This was going to be the start of something great. You could feel it in your bones. But then again, you were always wrong. Well, whatever. Nothing at this moment could bring you apart. You had everything you could’ve wanted. Your crush, and your brother.
Everything was going to be great. Right?
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lilacliquors · 2 years
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Hii! Could I please request Eddie Munson x Female reader *maybe Hoppers daughter?* with Eddie taking care of reader when she is sick one-shot please
sick day ( eddie munson x sick hopper!reader )
word count: 1069
rating: e for everyone, f for fluff
content: fluff, comfort, reader has a cold but she's vv dramatic
likes are always appreciated, and reblogs are recommended if you enjoyed! support your local fic writers <3
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you were usually an early riser. you were the early bird, but today, the one day you knew your dad wouldn’t be home and you’d have the house to yourself, you felt sick as anything. your body ached, your head was stuffed up, and you punctuated every sentence with a cough or a sneeze. it was exhausting, and a bit embarrassing. and since your dad wasn’t home, you didn’t have anyone in the house to take care of you. so it looked like you’d need to call in outside resources.
eddie was still passed out in bed. he was the night owl to your early bird, and nothing could wake him up. which was why his uncle wayne answered the phone after it rang twice.
“munson residence, wayne speaking,” he said.
“mr. munson, hi. it’s y/n hopper. is eddie there?” you asked, trying your best not to sound as congested as you felt.
“physically, yes. but he isn’t upright. hold on one second,” he said, setting the phone down on the end table nearby before heading into the single bedroom of the trailer. he knocked once on the doorframe, and when he got a snort in response, he sighed, shook his head, and opened the door.
“eddie.” a snort. “eddie.” another one. “edward munson!”
“huh, whu’s u’?” eddie mumbled, jerking upwards.
“y/n is on the phone for you. get your butt in gear and come talk to her.”
the sound of your name alone was enough to wake him. you never called this early, which meant something had to be wrong. once his uncle stepped back and shut the door, he climbed out of bed and ran a hand through his hair. he fumbled around his room, looking for clean clothes to pull on before he went out to talk to you. he finally left his room, tugging his arm through the sleeve of his shirt, and went to take the phone from the counter.
“eddie munson speaking, making your dreams a reality since the summer of ‘85. what’s up, babe?” he asked, the grin on his lips fading when he heard you sniffle.
“i feel like shit and my dad’s not home. can you come stay with me?” you didn’t mince words normally, but when you felt this bad, and you’d been on hold for ten minutes, you just wanted to get straight to the point.
“yeah, yeah, of course sweetheart. i’ll be there in twenty. need me to bring anything?” he asked.
“i don’t think so. i’ve got soup and stuff here, i just don’t wanna be alone when i feel this dead.”
“amen to that. i’ll see you in just a bit, promise,” he said, and you two bade your goodbyes before you hung up the phone.
“everything all right?” wayne asked from the kitchen.
“huh? oh, yeah. she’s just not feeling so great and her dad’s at work. gonna go over there and check up on her. i’ll be back later,” eddie said, and wayne nodded.
“all right. tell her i said hi, and to feel better.”
“can do.”
***
like he promised, twenty minutes went by and he was at your house, not bothering to knock or ring the bell. he knew your dad wasn’t home, and if you were sleeping, he didn’t want to wake you. when he entered the main room of your house, he didn’t see you, so he glanced into the kitchen, then shook his head.
“bedroom, shoulda been my first guess,” he said, then quietly made his way towards the back of the house, where your bedroom was. your door was closed part of the way, and he could just see you through the gap. gently, he knocked on the doorframe, and he saw you lift your head and look in his direction. with a small smile, he pushed the door open and entered the room, looking down at you in bed.
you would be the first to admit you looked pathetic. tissues strewn on the floor, a pile of stuffed animals beside you, the covers pulled up to your chin, all of it. and you almost didn’t want eddie to see you like this. normally, when you were put together, your fashion sense matched his. leather jackets and black ripped jeans and laced up boots, the whole nine yards. but today, you were in pajama bottoms and a shirt you’d stolen from eddie weeks back, and he couldn’t help but smile.
“hey lazy,” he teased, bending down to kick off his shoes.
“stuff it,” you mumbled, pulling the covers back so you could reach out for him. he chuckled, and with a hum, he carefully climbed into your bed, wrapping his arms around you to hold you against his chest.
“get some rest, yeah?” he asked, brushing your hair back from your face.
“i will, i promise. sorry for calling so early, eds,” you whispered.
“nah, don’t be sorry. my girl needs me, she’s got me.”
***
eddie was woken up by the sound of the front door opening, then shutting. you were still fast asleep in his arms, and it took him a second to realize just where he was. and when he did, and your bedroom door opened, his eyes went wide as he stared into the face of your father, chief jim hopper. quickly, he covered your ears so he didn’t wake you, and he tried for a smile.
“hi officer hopper, sir,” he said, and hopper raised a brow.
“munson. what are you doing here?” he asked.
“y/n called. she woke up sick and wanted to see me so here i am, ta-da,” he said, and hopper, sighed.
“is she asleep still?” he asked.
“sir, yes sir.”
“then you can stay, but when she wakes up, it’s time for you to head out.”
“got it, right, of course mr. hopper sir.”
rolling his eyes, hopper turned and left the room, and when his footsteps faded, you slowly opened your eyes with a small smile.
“sorry about him,” you whispered.
“shh, keep it down. otherwise i gotta go.”
“right, right. goin’ back to sleep now.”
“good idea.”
with a grin, he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, and he felt you snuggle back into his arms. he’d be able to stay a bit longer, and your dad wasn’t gonna kill him for being in your bed. it was a good day all around.
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