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meimi-haneoka · 1 year ago

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Cardcaptor Sakura Clear Card Chapter 76: Comments + JP-ENG translation differences

Ooooh CCS fans, welcome back to our monthly appointment!! Which, apparently, will go on a little longer than previously expected because (I'm sure you've heard of it in the last month, but in case you didn't) CLAMP/Kodansha did what I thought they wouldn't dare doing: they extended the Clear Card serialization a little bit more, announcing the last volume will be the 16th one, instead of the 15th one as previously stated! Volume 16 will be released on April 1st 2024, while they also delayed the release of volume 15 to November 13th (this made me suspicious, is it to accomodate more chapters in it? Or what else happened there, to delay it?) I have no idea how many more chapters we'll get at this point (or if the 16th volume was born because it will accomodate some after-story extra chapters), but I have to say that after the initial shock, I've took the news quite well and I just can't deny that the story really seemed to need a bit more room to develop the conclusion properly, so I'd daresay the announcement ultimately made me sigh in relief. And this chapter definitely proved to me that things are steadily proceeding, but taking care in depicting carefully and without haste an heroic moment that will turn out to be more complex than what probably Sakura & co. expected. I'm gonna need a bit more patience to see how all of this ends, but I prefer for the end to not be rushed and not have regrets in the future! Also, this looks like it might tie in with the beginning of season 2 of the anime? We'll see!

Well, after this preamble to update everyone on the situation of the serialization, we'll proceed under the cut to talk about the actual chapter, which unfortunately this month is stained by several translation mistakes, omissions and inaccuracies. They really deceived me, doing a good job on the past 2 chapters...*sigh* I'm still quite mad because of course WHO gets affected the most, among those translation mistakes? I feel like coming at this point I don't even have to state it. *another sigh* Before diving into my ramblings, let's give a look to the gif of this month! I chose this one because I feel like I need to lighten the mood a little bit, since between the end of this one and -I'm sure- the next chapter, I'm afraid there won't be anything to laugh about.

Under the cut!

The Color Page

Anyone following this blog since some time, or who knows me well, probably doesn't need to be told that I completely loved the color page of this month! 🥰After 11 chapters, Akiho comes back to grace the opening page of a chapter of Clear Card. It's very simple, but in its simplicity I could feel all of Akiho's essence, while appreciating the usual symbolism of some elements of the color page. First and foremost, Akiho is smiling, and that wasn't a given for a color page appearing at the end of this story. We've seen Sakura making plenty of wistful faces lately, so it feels like we can't really take for granted to see our characters smiling. But her beautiful smile in combination with the nice shade of green Mokona-sensei chose for her elegant dress (which is totally in tune with what Akiho would wear) is really giving a kind of hopeful vibe to the whole color page. And I feel that for this chapter, we really needed that. Green is kind of an unusual color to associate Akiho with, but there's more to it. Together with the shade of yellow that sensei used to create a gradient on the skirt, this green is a clear callback to the color scheme of the lilies that Akiho is holding and wearing among her curls. And as we all know, lilies in this arc are primarily a symbol of the character who literally bears their name: Akiho's mother, Lilie (German for "lily"). As soon as I saw the presence of lilies in this color page with her, I went all "awwww" because I couldn't help but think "this is a sign her mother is watching over her and is always with her, right?" And inevitably, seeing Akiho gently holding those flowers made me wish even more that she could know something, anything about her mother. I also noticed that Mokona-sensei slightly changed the shading of Akiho's hair again, removing the yellowish undertone that was present in the most recent color pages that Akiho appeared in, making me sigh because I'll have to modify my color palette for my fanarts once again 😩it still looks lighter than her mother's, at least, and it's still very much ash blonde. The editorial text in JP on the color page is what Sakura told her at the end of chapter 73: "Let's get them back. The one you didn't want to lose".

Collapsing Time

Aaaaand this chapter for me started with a "I KNEW IT!" equipped with a loud laughter, because ever since chapter 75 ended I've really been wondering "will the group at home be able to follow their journey inside the fake moon, or will the connection be conveniently cut off?" OF COURSE IT'S THE LATTER, what else could've been? 😆 Tomoyo rationally wonders if the signal simply doesn't reach in the space inside the fake moon, but Eriol from the other end of the videocall tells everyone that these are rather some more specific, particular circumstances: he was able to see what was inside the fake moon for a split second before the connection was cut off, and what he saw is an environment where time isn't simply stopped, is actually collapsing. I want to start my long list of complaints about the translation in English of this chapter, with this mild inaccuracy: the ENG makes Eriol consistently sound unsure of what he's affirming above, using verbs like I suppose, while the JP text doesn't leave any trace of doubt - Eriol isn't supposing, he knows that time is breaking down in that environment.

Back to Sakura and Syaoran, our little heroes start to feel the effects of this powerful magic that is permeating the interior of the fake moon, with Syaoran noticing that the clock parts fluctuating aren't really deformed like they're seeing, but only appear so due to the strong pressure of the magic spell inside that environment. And here we have to stop once again, because this is another straight up mistake of the ENG translation:

ENG: "There's nothing wrong with the watch itself. The spell's placed too much pressure on it. It only looks broken"

JP: "It's not like the components of the clocks are really deformed...They only look like that because the pressure of the magic spell is too strong"

As you can see, skipping the translation of the word 部品 (components) made them completely misunderstand Syaoran's line and make it about the pocket watch in their hands, instead of the fluctuating clock parts! And it's like they wanted to give an explanation to why the pocket watch looks broken (hello??? The pocket watch gradually broke when Kaito was still active in the un-rewritten world!!), despite the adjective used in JP is deformed, not broken. But let's go on.

Sakura starts to feel that pressure on her head, in fact she points out that her head is hurting to a worried Syaoran (JP, lit.: "My head is..."). He answers that it's only normal, because the spell is so powerful that it's affecting them physically, and he can feel those effects too (he's only better at dissimulating it, apparently). (I'm just worried if it's clear in the ENG translation, by how they're phrasing things, that the spell Syaoran is referring to is the one that's active on the whole place, not the one he used to trace the owner of the pocket watch). Syaoran continues saying that it's happening the same to the interior of the "fake moon", basically everything is so warped and deformed (due to the strong pressure) that if the pocket watch didn't show them the way, they would've lost both their sense of orientation and even the "target" they were tracking with that compass. So while the readers might have thought that if Sakura and Syaoran got there successfully it was only thanks to the compass, CLAMP went out of their way to specify that it wasn't exactly like that: it seems like the pocket watch actively guided them through the magic beam that originated from the compass, preventing them from getting lost. I guess without the watch's intervention, the compass might have still shot that beam in search for Kaito, but it might have gotten all of them lost, because the magic spell at work inside that environment is so strong that it warps everything, beam included. Again, I wonder if this concept above is clear enough from how they phrased it in the ENG translation.

And if that wasn't enough, Sakura's sweet smiling face says that Akiho guided them there. Evidently she thinks that the pocket watch is not only permeated by that mysterious moon magic that they still don't know who it belongs to, but also by Akiho's strong will to look for and to find the person she never wanted to lose. Akiho is always with them, spirit tightly connected to that pocket watch, and I couldn't help but being so moved by how considerate and sweet Sakura is. Akiho is evidently at the center of her thoughts even now, after all, she departed for this mission precisely for her sake.

Syaoran says that the beam is pointing at this dragon that is sleeping in front of them, but then actually starts doubting it and says "wait, is this really a dragon...?". The mere fact that he had a second thought about it might already be a sign that there might be more than meets the eyes, behind this creature that we're seeing now. Sakura just needs to look at it for a moment to remember immediately: she met this dragon before, in a dream. Of course, she can remember about this only thanks to the "film strips of memories" that the Record Card supplied her with some chapters ago, since it's all stuff that comes from the "un-rewritten world". Then, Sakura takes charge of the pocket watch and thanks Syaoran for his help with the compass: it's clear that she wants to talk to the dragon, now. Clutching the pocket watch tightly and looking at the sleeping creature in an intense way, she gets closer to it.

The dragon finally opens its eyes and wakes up.

Sakura is such a sweet and well mannered girl, so I couldn't help smiling when she said this: (JP, lit.) "Please allow me to address you with "you" (anata), since I don't know your name". Yes, because Sakura's usual speech pattern includes calling people by their name, rather than using a direct "anata". Even with Syaoran, some pages ago, she didn't use a direct "you", but simply repeated his name instead. Her usual way to talk to people always sounds very soft, well mannered and warm to me, while probably using "anata" even with her closest people feels too "blunt" to her. Or, maybe, "impersonal". In this case, she really doesn't have any other choice, though. Alas, this was something that was hardly translatable in a literal way in the ENG version, and I think the way they chose works pretty well anyway.

And so, Sakura continues. (JP, but ENG is equally fine as well:) "I can feel 'something' coming from you, which is the same that I can feel coming from this watch as well. I guess Syaoran-kun would call it 'magical power'. Do you know the owner of this watch? Or.....is this watch YOURS?" How cute, this really shows clearly that Sakura's relationship with magic is not made of technicalities and such, and she still feels a newbie about it, so she is capable of feeling distinctly the magical aura coming off the dragon and the pocket watch, but she isn't still used to use technical terms like "magical power", "aura" and such. Syaoran is the expert for those things, and she seems to admire and respect him a lot for that! 😆

Sakura asks something to Syaoran to get a certain confirmation. I have the impression that she could feel it herself, but wanted the confirmation from her expert husband boyfriend. She asks him if the magical power that is permeating the environment of the fake moon is the same moon power that comes from the pocket watch. Syaoran confirms they're different (again, an inaccuracy of the ENG translation, which makes Syaoran say "something is different". There's no "something" in the JP, he was just plainly stating that the two sources of power are different).

I want to point out how cool Syaoran looks in his pose of this scene, his hand gripping the handle of his sword the whole time, ready to unleash it at the minimum sight of danger on Sakura. I really love it because Sakura doesn't really know the intentions of the dragon yet, so what she's doing is pretty risky in itself, but Syaoran didn't stop her, he trusted her and let free to do what she wanted to do. He's just, you know, going to stay in the background with his hand on his sword, ready for any scenario, just in case. 😂 Protective boyfriend (but not suffocating one) strikes again! This is what I mean when I say they came a long way ever since chapter 1.

I Know Your Eyes

Sakura can feel that even the magic coming from the "cage" (she uses a term in JP that sounds more like fence than the harsher cage, though) is different from the one the pocket watch is giving off, and this is all she needs to have the confirmation she was looking for: just putting 2 and 2 together from the difference in powers, she concludes that the dragon is there against its will, and someone else locked it up in there. Sakura asks the dragon if she's right, but it simply......stares at her, in silence.

Sakura watches those eyes....and they're all she needs to see. Because she realizes she knows those eyes.

And here, unfortunately, I have to prepare you for another translation mistake, an actual omission that irritated me quite a lot because I consider this a very important scene for a certain character's depiction and development. And you probably don't even need to ask who he is, because he's been bastardized this whole time by the ENG translation.

ENG: "I know you. I know your eyes...And not just because I've seen them in a dream. With your eyes, you watched over Akiho-chan. Somehow, that memory's still inside of me"

JP: "I know...your eyes. And not because I've seen them in a dream. Those eyes used to look at Akiho-chan with great care/affection. (That feeling) remained inside of me"

*draws a deep breath* Okay. I'll go with my grievances with the translation first and then I'll talk about my own reaction to this scene.

When Sakura is talking about the way Kaito used to look at Akiho (because it's clear as hell we're talking about him here, even if she doesn't remember who he is, yet), the JP text includes a very important adverb, 大切に (taisetsu ni, lit. "carefully, giving importance, cherishing something). And Sakura doubles down on it by preceding it with another adverb, とても (totemo, "very"). It is absolutely, unmistakably clear that Kaito used to look at Akiho with lots of affectionate feelings. That 大切に indicates how much he cherished her...how much she was important to him...and he never said it aloud, probably not even realizing it himself, but his eyes spoke for him. And Sakura saw it all.

The ENG translation completely omitted and skipped the translation of the adverb とても大切に, indicating only that Kaito "watched over" Akiho. Completely stripping the action of looking at her of any emotional involvement. To me, that is intolerable. Why?

Because this is the first time that a character, any character, clearly spells out how Kaito considers Akiho. And of course they gave the honor of pointing out the elephant in the room (gosh, this really looks like that situation) to the protagonist, our Sakura. I mean, we came to this point in the story precisely because nobody was able to say for sure what the hell Kaito thought of Akiho. Not even the person concerned himself! I've seen countless of theories along the years, and a worringly big amount thought that Kaito only wanted to use Akiho for his own selfish goal. I kept seeing speculations of that kind even after all he did in chapter 70. And that was particularly strong in the western side of the fandom, because of how the translation portrayed Kaito all these years. Now that we finally get a spoken, spelled out confirmation that he considered Akiho so important, he cherished her so much, and those sweet feelings seeped through his eyes and couldn't escape Sakura's attentive stare, what do they do? They remove any sign of it. They make Sakura say that he only "watched over her" like a regular watch dog, without touching any of the emotional involvement that was indicated in the JP original text. I remind you that 大切(な) is also the core adjective of the famous 一番大切なひと, "the most important person". If this will be connected to an eventual statement later on, this omission is even worse.

Of course, I cannot be anything else than dismayed at this perpetrated character assassination that this translation is operating on Kaito. Leaving aside all my bias for my two favorite characters, this omission penalizes Sakura's characterization too. The fact the she could recognize Kaito (without knowing it's Kaito) through the Dragon's eyes is a testament to how extraordinarily empathetic she is, and how her empathy is literally saving this story. Her empathy made her understand that Kaito couldn't be a bad person, deep down, because of how he looked at Akiho and how Akiho was so happy with him, leading her to make the decision of not confronting them openly, back in the un-rewritten world. Her empathy is what guided her here and what now is telling her "yes, this IS Akiho's most important person. And that person cherished her too". And how she was able to recognize that? Not because Kaito used to just "watch over" Akiho, what made that gaze special were the feelings that Sakura could see inside of it. All of this story is held up by the feelings between its characters. I think it's a huge mistake to not give the right importance to them, to ALL OF THEM.

I think I complained enough about this translation, so let's get talking about happier things. Because of course, in its original form, this scene became my favorite one from the entire chapter and moved me to tears. I was amazed by how Sakura was capable of recognizing Kaito's soul, his essence, only looking at the dragon's eyes. And you know, although being similar (they are some kind of tsurime too), they're not exactly the same as Kaito's, so it seems clear to me that Sakura recognized them basing on sensations and feelings alone. Eyes are, after all, a window to somebody's soul. And even though we could never really get into Kaito's head, or only partially did towards the end of the "un-rewritten world", I really have to say that his eyes spoke volumes of what he was feeling for the entirety of the manga. And for that, we can only praise Mokona-sensei's wonderful skills. I always loved Kaito's eyes, how they could be mischievous, happy, surprised, sweet, sad, tragic. The fact that I could be sure that he loved Akiho in any capacity till now, was also thanks to how he looked at her. So I was really glad to see the element "eyes" being used in this scene to make Sakura recognize him. And there's more to it. I delved into the use of the word 瞳 (hitomi, lit. "pupils") with the furigana "me" next to it (which is the pronounciation of another kanji used to indicate eyes, 目), and I found out/re-confirmed that 瞳 indeed literally means "pupils", but in manga, songs, novels and such it is a trope used to indicate the eyes when there's an emotional nuance attached to it. It is used to make things sound more "romantic" or drip with emotion. "Your eyes...looked at her with so much affection"... ...You can now understand even better why I am so peeved at the omission of the ENG translation for this part. All the other languages did their job and included the nuance correctly. CLAMP were trying to be very straightforward with their composition of Sakura's line, everything was indicating that this was a very important and emotional moment. Akiho, all alone in Sakura's memories of the double date, is at the center of the entire page, as if to indicate that she was at the center of Kaito's eyes too (because that's what Sakura is talking about in the bubbles). But we can see a "spotlight" beside her, an empty one: that was certainly where Kaito used to be when Sakura met them at the botanical garden.

The Escape

Okay, Sakura found what she was looking for. Or, rather, WHO she was looking for. And it doesn't matter if it's a huge, dark dragon trapped inside a cage. I found this almost hilarious, how she doesn't question even for a second that Akiho's most important person is actually a dragon! But I could quickly realize that it's all because in this manga, external appearances don't matter. What matters is who you are. These are all souls, loving other souls. Everything in between holds no meaning. And so if there's one thing that Sakura knows with all her heart, is that this dragon cannot stay here. So she tells him (yeah, I can finally say "him") to come along with them. But it's in that moment that a danger arises: the clock particles start attacking Sakura and Syaoran at great speed, so much that Syaoran has to turn around very quickly to realize it (I loved the effect in his eyes to indicate the speed). With a swift move, Syaoran summons his famous "Raitei Shourai" and his powerful thunderbolt repels and destroys the clockwork that was about to attack them.

We go back for a moment to Yukito's home, where everyone is staring intently at the tablet to see if Sakura and Syaoran give any sign. A worried Touya (and Yukito, too) turns his attention to Akiho, though, who is the quintessence of tension right now. Hard stare to the screen, she looks as if she's ready to fight anyone at any moment. And here, unfortunately, another translation mistake drops.

ENG: "We need to be sure we're ready to go...In case Sakura-chan calls for us" JP: "I have to be fully prepared...for when Sakura-san will call me"

First thing first, you probably caught it yourself, Akiho calls Sakura "Sakura-chan" in the ENG version, and that's a mistake. She hasn't suddenly changed speech tone in the JP, she hasn't dropped keigo, she still calls her "Sakura-san", as usual. And despite here there isn't a subject (again, a typical thing Ohkawa-sensei does in her scripts), it's pretty understandable that she's talking about herself and not the whole group, because of the imperative tense she's using. Moreover, Sakura told the rest of the group that MAYBE she would've called them if she ended up needing any help, but for Akiho she was SURE she was going to call her, so Akiho really does have to be ready to be called at any moment. Akiho in JP uses a particular word to indicate the concept of "be fully prepared, all set, take all possible measures": 準備万全 (junbi banzen) and when I looked for its complete meaning on the internet, to understand the context better, I found out that this is also the name of a skill in the game of the "Uma Musume" series. That made me laugh because coincidentally, Akiho's voice actress Minori Suzuki is famous for voicing one of the characters of Uma Musume, "Agnes Digital" and I know for a fact that CLAMP are fans of Uma Musume. Was Ohkawa-sensei trying to make a fun reference or an Easter egg, here? 😉 Anyways, Akiho's determined face here is really beautiful, I'd daresay there isn't only determination in those eyes, but also a tiny touch of...irritation? I've probably said it before, on other social media, that I hope Akiho will be the one giving an earful to Kaito, and yell all her feelings in his face while angrily crying 🤪if this is building up to that, I cannot be happier than this!

Everyone proudly looks at our little warrior getting ready, and unfortunately due to the misunderstanding above, Yukito's line is mistaken too, in the ENG version: they make him say "I'm glad we have eachother" while in JP he simply commented "You're so confident/reliable!", which is totally coherent with the face she was making before. The adjective he uses, 頼もしい (tanomoshii) indicates someone who's dependable, reliable, confident or even "sure-footed".

Needless to say, I was very happy to: 1) See an interaction with Akiho coming from Yukito, this is the first time and with this comment he acted like another お兄ちゃん to her (the more, the better); 2) See him defining her "confident and reliable", I've seen a JP fan I follow on Twitter making an interesting interpretation of his line, coming from a character that was always worried over not knowing what to do to help the people he loves, and seeing another magic-less character standing tall and facing this ordeal courageously might have prompted him to understand Akiho's position more than we could imagine; 3) Acknowledge that it really seems as if CLAMP are trying to establish new and more connections between the old cast and Akiho, probably because these connections will stay even after the end.

Back to the situation inside the fake moon, Syaoran yells to Sakura that he's sure he won't be able to break that cage only with his spells, so he urges her to find a way to free and get that dragon out of there while he fends off all the incoming attacks. Sakura immediately complies, and this back and forth between them was already awarded the title of "husband and wife interaction" from the JP fandom. 😂 Sakura remembers what Momo told her about the remaining Cards that are waiting for her call...and sadly I have to point out another translation mistake: while the JP was always vague about the number of Cards awaiting for her to call them, the ENG this time around traced back its steps and made Momo say that "There is one more Card that was left behind", despite in chapter 73 correctly translating Momo's words as a general "There are other Cards that haven't disappeared". So, not only they haven't even checked what they translated just 3 chapters ago and are unable to keep coherence with it, but they didn't even consider that the Card we're about to see isn't even the last one that is waiting to make an appearance ever since the Clockland Play happened. Therefore, it's NOT true that there's just one left.

But the inaccuracies aren't over, because in the next line, Sakura looks at Kaito's pocket watch, and this is the association that she makes with it:

ENG: "This is my mother's watch...and that card looked just like it. I don't remember creating it...but..." JP: "My mother's watch....I created a Card that looked like it, and I never found out when that happened"

Always thanks to Record, Sakura got also back the memories of Nadeshiko's pendant watch, how she got it, and that she found herself with a Card that looked like it but didn't know when she created it (hint: it was because Kaito rewound time, but the Card survived).

It's the moment for Sakura to call the Card: TIME!! And finally, this Card that many awaited in trepidation gets activated for the first time. In a very poignant moment, no less! Sakura, full of gratitude, thinks about her mother and how they made this Card "together", and she finally realizes that Nadeshiko's pendant watch found its way to her through great-grandpa Masaki precisely for this. To be used in this moment. And so she does. She orders to the Card to "activate" the time of the cage, so that she can "open" it, and Nadeshiko's watch goes to position itself precisely over what I think is "the lock" of the cage. I think this might suggest why the watch was changed into a key in the anime: it would make even more sense that it's a key the one that will open the lock. The lock, together with the cage, successfully dissolves, freeing Kaito/the Dragon. The Dragon seemingly "stretches" himself (poor thing, having to stay all crouched for god knows how long!!), destroying all the remaining clockwork in the process. Sakura gets her Card back and doesn't waste time, urging everyone to get out of there. Syaoran notices the opening they had "sliced" into the fake moon earlier, and says to go through that to get outside. I think the opening is appearing here in front of them so immediately because the spell that was warping and making that space so tortuous and convoluted is now broken. Sakura and Syaoran fly towards the opening, successfully getting out of it, but once outside Sakura notices something and looks back in dismay: the Dragon is not moving. She asks frantically why. But Syaoran yells to Sakura to pay attention: she turns around, in time to see a big group of arrows pointing at them, in full attack.

Aaaaand this is where the chapter ends, once again with a big cliffhanger!! Where is this attack coming from???

I'll give you a hint......

Remember a nice afternoon tea, interrupted by a clan of ass*oles allied with an Association of criminals, back in chapter 33? Yeah, Kaito sure remembers well. Lord knows how many of these attacks he had to repel over the months that passed from when he was excommunicated from the Association, officially starting "the war" between him and those bastards. Kaito back then easily fended off the attack by stopping time, again at the expense of his life, but I wonder what will happen now. It's clear it's something that's coming from them. However, I'm still not sure they're concretely sending the attack right now. It might be a "trap" they've left in place in case anybody tried to free Kaito, so maybe Sakura won't confront them directly. I still don't believe this is where it's going. But we'll see what will happen and what direction CLAMP decided to give to this.

My biggest concern is also the Dragon. It became apparent, in this chapter, that the creature is Kaito himself, in some capacity. I say "in some capacity" because we don't know if he was transformed, if this is the form the Seal of D forced on him, or if it's the effect of taking all that magic from the artifact that he got from Akiho. I am pretty sure this isn't his true form or anything like that, he was a human being to begin with.

We don't even know if he's conscious of what's happening right now, what he remembers from "before", from the un-rewritten world. If he remembers about Akiho at all. Unfortunately, he didn't give any signs of even understanding what Sakura was telling him. I have to say it pains me to see Kaito like that, and this is a possibility that I had been preparing myself for since long time, so that surely "cushioned" the blow.

However....

There is a theory going around, about why the Dragon won't move at the end of the chapter. I've seen it both from JP fans and from my mutuals too. And I have to say....it's pretty in-character. It's very convincing. The Dragon/Kaito doesn't move because he doesn't want to. Because he thinks he doesn't deserve to go out there and be saved. And it's to be noted that what Syaoran says is indeed 動かない (doesn't move), not 動けない (can't move). If we have to take those words literally, then we should exclude that there's anything "external" preventing him from moving. The reason is somewhere else.

If it's really Kaito being unsure/not willing to go with them because he doesn't think he deserves to, then that would also mean his memories are intact. Add agony over agony. If his consciousness is intact, I wonder what he thought when he saw Sakura and Syaoran? Was he surprised? I really think this could be the perfect spot where Akiho could finally spring into action. Because THAT is something only SHE can do anything about. If that's really the reason why he's not moving, then he needs to hear the full story. And he needs to hear it from the person his plan affected the most, the one he saved, yes, but also the one he's hurt the most with his blind "excess of love". But before that, Sakura needs to understand where the problem lies. I really hope she'll have the chance to talk to the Dragon again, and with her exceptional empathy, understand that Akiho needs to talk to him.

Next chapter, the 77th one, is going to be published on August 30th on CLAMP's Youtube channel, less than a month away! And by this release date, I can infer it'll go on sale with Nakayoshi on September 1st. At this point it doesn't even feel so "special" to announce it, but the next issue of Nakayoshi will see Sakura once again on the cover, and once again featured in the furoku! At the time of writing this post, no leaks have appeared regarding how/what the furoku will be.

Well! Sorry again for an endless post full of complaints about the translation, but this time around they really messed up. I thought something changed in the translation process in the past 2 chapters and they paid more attention/checked multiple times before giving the OK, but apparently this time that was not the case. As usual, I'll await any question/topic you want to discuss about in my ask box! See you at the end of this month for chapter 77!!

#cardcaptor sakura #card captor sakura #clear card arc #ccsakura #ccs spoilers #translation differences #sakura card captor #sakura kinomoto #syaoran li #yuna d. kaito #akiho shinomoto #chapter 76

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durotoswrites · 2 years ago

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The Shy Newcomer Update

It is with happy tears in my eyes as I type this! I know it’s been a long time coming, and I thank you so much for your patience. A new chapter of The Shy Newcomer has been posted! 🥰

(Cover art commissioned by the talented @acediee!)

Chapter 123: Healing

Summary: Cliff and Gray finally start to realize they aren't alone.

Read on

Archive of Our Own

Fanfiction

Preview under the cut!

“You ever play?” Duke didn't turn to face him; he was studying the handwriting as if to etch it into his mind.

Cliff shook his head. A few of the bars he had stopped in to warm up during his travels had boards mounted to the wall, and there were sometimes a few people wagering a friendly game of darts.

“I don't know how the scoring works, but I've seen people play.”

Duke retrieved a handsome emerald-colored set of darts and stepped back to a worn piece of tape on the floor Cliff hadn't been aware of until then. Duke hesitated before handing him a set of his own, twirling one of the darts in his fingers with a sad smile.

“I'll go first and give you an idea of how it goes.”

Cliff's eyes were drawn to the darts that had been given to him. Holographic purple butterflies and a stylized capital letter a decorated the flights; it couldn’t be more obvious who used them most frequently.

“Alright, it's been a hot minute for me, so I'm gonna warm up. Used to play all the time at Doug's back in the day. Me, Manna, Jeff, Sasha, Rod... Heck, even Gotz and Hilda would join sometimes. We'd play regularly.” He twirled the dart by the barrel between his thumb and index fingers, watching the flight reflect the light from above them. “Ah, simpler times, for sure...”

He threw his first dart and Cliff wasn't sure if it was a particularly good throw or not. It was closer to the center of the target, but the curse mumbled under Duke's breath indicated that didn't necessarily make it a good shot. He waited for Duke to explain the scoring, but his mind was clearly focused on something else.

“Got a little harder to play once everyone started having kids... Once Ann got a little older and more active, it was hard to keep her out of the bar at night. Poor girl would get nightmares near nightly, so Doug tried to keep her behind the bar where he could keep an eye on her.”

Another toss. The smirk on Duke's lips told Cliff it was a decent one.

“Ann is Doug's daughter, but... she's got a lot of honorary godparents. We all look after our own, so when Felicity passed, everyone did their best to help Doug keep it together. Losing a family member... it's hell.”

Duke threw the final dart and it missed the board completely, landing right between the eyes of the illustration of a snowman on the calendar.

“Sorry there, Frosty. Guess we're havin' snow cones tonight.” He retrieved the dart and turned around, his dark eyes boring into Cliff. “But I guess I don't need to tell you how rough it is, huh?”

Cliff's knees felt a bit weak. He had recalled exactly how his mother's voice had sounded, something he had previously thought lost. “It's been on my mind a lot lately,” he confessed.

“So I've heard. Parents and sister, huh? I imagine that's a bit of a one-two punch...”

The chill of the wine cellar crept into Cliff's veins. “How do you know that?”

49 notes - Posted April 9, 2022

Reinhard, you’re allowed to eat real food...

69 notes - Posted June 26, 2022

See the full post

235 notes - Posted February 14, 2022

Me, writing: has outline and theme planned

Also me:

479 notes - Posted November 5, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I couldn’t help myself when I saw the Grandpa’s messed up bed meme floating around.

1,149 notes - Posted April 28, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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mmunson86 · 7 months ago

Text

“Well, I think I deserve some compensation for the princess treatment, don’t you think?”

You know what goodbye this is my queue to get theeee fuck out of this car & end this date! Kiss my ass Daniel 🙂

“Like I wanted to do it with Eddie Munson’s slut anyway!”

You did about a minute ago! & never speak of Eddie that way unless you are ready to get your balls ripped right out of you and stapled on your forehead 🥰

“but as of late he’s finding himself defeated when they don’t want him, just what he can do for them”

Ohh Eddie well if it makes you feel better our date was a total asshole and it sucked we sre on the same boat, not going to LIE it kills me that these biiitches just use him, maybe one day he will see that we have been right here all along🥲

“Hey, you two! Eddie, are you finally taking this girl of yours on a date?”

No saddly no but a girl can hope that one day Eddie does finally take us out on a date a real one not one as best friends🥹

“you don’t want to lead anyone on when your heart belongs to someone else.”

Of course our heart belongs to Eddie he is just freaking silly and blind and doesn’t even seem like we exists to him in that manner😭

“Out of curiosity, how are Eddie and his new girlfriend doing? Chrissy Cunningham, huh? I cannot say I saw that coming.”

you know what Steve I don’t wanna talk about it please do not rub more salt into the wound because I want to rip my hair out 😂

“Why not? You don’t think he’s happy with her, or something?”

No, you dip shit maybe because he is happy with her and it hurts us because secretly we are in love with him and those feelings have never been mutual 🥲

“You like him,” Steve accuses, his brows meeting his hairline.

Steve, please shut up. We don’t wanna talk about it like this shit hurts, i am sure you can clearly see that😒

“Here, if I treat you to some coffee will you talk to me about it?”

Fuuck Steve knows how to get a girl to say yes because how the hell do we say no to free coffee like??😩

“I have to hear about how great of a friend this girl is but also how she can’t stand me.”

Now now, Steve don’t act like the victim. You know what you did to us back in high school causing us to hold this grudge on you.😑

“Doesn’t like you. Are you sure about that?” Steve asks, licking his lips.

Steve Harrington, do you know something that we don’t know what if you do you better spill right now🙃

“You are both idiots. Just tell him. Seriously. I’m sick of you both acting like a pair of love sick fools.”

It’s not that easy one he know has a girlfriend and two we are just his best friend what if telling him ruins that and now we lost him for good.?😭

she hums, walking over to the couch. “It’s cute when they try so hard.”

Yeah, I’m not liking this bitch already. That just threw me off

“Maybe it’s not good to eat this much sugar every time you guys come here,”

Maybe you should shuut the fuck up and eat your avocado toast Chrissy🙃

“Maybe I can ride you before you drop me off?”

Man fuck Eddie & Chrissy you guys can keep each other dont worry we can walk & we have a new best friend! she said that shit on purpose Steve where are you🤗

“You think I could have your ticket and Eddie could take me?”

Biiitch fuck you what part of we waited 6 hours in line to get tickets dont you understand? Fuck off please!

“If you really don’t want Eddie to come with me that badly then I can get Steve to take me.”

Problem solved now neither of you get to see it and we get to enjoy it with our other BEST FRIEND STEVE🥰

When you break down into tears, he brings you to his house, letting you finally admit to him what you’ve been afraid to admit to yourself.

No because the real hero of this story is Steve seriously we couldn’t have been given a better friend😭💗

And a big fuuuck you to Eddie like i said thank sky daddy we have Steve not sure how we would survive this torture if it weren’t for him💗

“To say he’s pissed at his friend is to understate it, he’s ready to tell you to give up on him and forget he exists.”

I seriously cant agree more with Steve if Eddie is going to discard us like a pair of old socks why the fuck should we waste our energy on him any more?!

Dainel fuck off my guy! There is a first time for everything and guess what?! NO we dont want to sleep with you you freaking creep🤬

Despite the sweet shine in his eyes as they watch you, you back from his hold in a jerk reaction. “Didn’t know you still cared about me.”

As much as we appreciate you Eddie i am glad we are giving you some hell! Because NOW you remember you have a best friend! NOW you are worried?!?

He wears the hurt from this statement on his sleeve. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Dont play fucking stupid! Dont do that shit ooo this man is going to make me go off the walls😭

“Steve locks his door from any stragglers, walking down each step to find a particular metal head to give him a piece of his mind.”

Get him STEVE rip him a new one make him feel like shit i want him to feel the fucking paain we have been feeling for the last 3 months!

“If Chrissy wouldn’t make a near temper tantrum every time your name is mentioned in conversation, he would’ve called you weeks ago. He missed your voice.”

Well, she sounds insecure asf. She knew you had a best friend before you gotten in a relationship and I understand that boundaries need to be set, but she didn’t have to completely alienate you from us. 😐

“Eddie felt like he was losing his mind, insisting he just wanted to see his best friend”

This sounds like a very toxic relationship honestly, I don’t know why you stay in it. Yeah she’s cute but looks only go so far. It honestly sounds like he has been locked up in a prison

Steve sighs, angry, frustrated. “She just sobbed on the bathroom floor for an hour and a half, Ed. I literally watched her heart break! Safe to say, I don’t think she’s doing so well emotionally.”

Hell yeah! We stan Steve! On a real note i seriously love Steve in this fic he has been nothing but supportive & amazing to us🥹💗

“Considering she has control over who you’re allowed to spend time with, probably somewhere nearby with binoculars,” Steve mutters

Blalahah i am living for sassy Steve we love you beb give Eddie lip make him feel bad muahaha kicking my feet because Steve is giving it all to Eddie he is not letting this man put up any more shitty excuses!

“If you two aren’t on a date, I’ll eat my notebook,”

Lol no need Martha this time we are actually on a date we finally stopped being idiots😂💗

I wanted to, so much, baby. I love you. So much. You’re my best friend, my person, and I just love you so fucking much.”

I am not crying i am not crying i promise you i am okay! No i am not i freaking love you Eddie Munson😭💗

Ahhh this was so freaking good the pain was worth all the pain that we had to endure everything was so freaking worth it and perfect 🥰

I Can Do It With A Broken Heart | Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader | 18+

Summary: You and Eddie have both had crap luck on dates lately, nothing that can't be fixed with a strawberry milkshake. However, he gets asked out on a date and it goes well...until it turns your life on its head and he forgets how to pick up the phone. You don't even care that he's dating someone else you just want your best friend back.

Warnings: idiots in love, best friends to lovers, ANGST, brief EddiexChrissy, ooc Chrissy, attempted SA, bestfriend!Steve, and needy, desperate smut that makes it all worth it.

Thanks to @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you for editing bestie

I’m astounded at the response to the preview I posted last week. Thank you so much for the love, I hope you enjoy all 40k (20k wtf did my brain go)

As you pull up to the little house at the end of the street, you look over to the sweet boy with blonde hair and green eyes nervously, curtaining a strand of hair behind one ear. He shoots you a smirk, white pearly teeth peeking from behind pretty pink lips. The date has gone phenomenally well, the conversation over dinner was easy and your date even easier on the eyes. You smooth your hands over the dress you’re wearing, picking at imaginary lint as you’re entirely unsure of what to say next.

Daniel, your date, leans onto the center console, the scent of his minty breath roping you in. “So, dinner was like, forty dollars.”

Your brows pinch together, the topic of conversation coming from left field.

“And the flowers were about twenty.” He says, his voice hinting at a subtext lost on you.

You think back to the flowers, a cascade of spring colours that drenched you in their floral scent. They sit on your dresser in a vase, waiting eagerly for you to come home.

“Okay…?” You ask, unsure of what he’s getting at.

Daniel sighs, suddenly the frustration you didn’t see before is clear on his face. “Well, I think I deserve some compensation for the princess treatment, don’t you think?”

He’s raising his brow suggestively, and the atmosphere in the car turns thick as you realize what he’s referring to. You feel so stupid. Suddenly the smirk on his face isn’t sweet, it’s sleazy. The cologne he’s wearing isn’t earthy, it’s gross. He’s not a good guy, and you feel foolish for thinking otherwise.

You think fast, lowering your eyelashes in a feigned blush. “Actually, I think it deserves just a little more than that. Be right back, I’m going to grab a condom.” You wink as you get out, the cherry on top.

Daniel lights right up, apparently not expecting his ridiculous method to work. The sound of him undoing his belt makes you nearly gag as you run in the front door.

Your dad, the sweetheart of a single father he is, welcomes you with a kind smile until he sees your crestfallen face. “You okay?”

“No,” you choke back, tears threatening to fall down your cheeks. “He’s demanding I repay him for dinner.”

“Repay?” You tilt your head, inferring what it means. “Oh. Fucking twerp. You need me to–”

“Can I have 60 bucks?” You interrupt him, avoiding his angry eyes.

He melts. “Sure.”

You walk back out the door, head held high right to the little corvette that sits at the end with the cheeky asshole sitting contently, waiting for his treat. The window is still open from earlier in the night, which works right in your favor.

“Here,” you toss the bills at him, allowing a small smile to grace your face at his confusion. “Since you’re so worried about being paid.”

As soon as he understands what you’re telling him, his face curves into a scowl, embarrassed, but too proud to say so. “Like I wanted to do it with Eddie Munson’s slut anyway!”

Halfway back up to the house, you turn back to the car as the engine growls into the night. How does that make sense? you wonder. Why am I being called a slut when I refused to put out?

The front door to your house slams shut again, and your dad receives the message that you would not like to talk about it. “Ed called just now, by the way,” he mentions as you reach the top of the stairs. Your pause in gait tells him you heard him, but you don’t respond because you can hear the smirk he wears, as much as you repeatedly tell him that Eddie is just a friend.

The flowers you thought so fondly of now have a looming presence in your room, like a dark shadow menacingly waiting in the corner. You ignore them as you lift the pastel phone to your ear, dialing the number you know by heart.

He picks up on the first ring. “Hi, sweetheart.” Relief washes over you, instant and comforting.

“Hey, Eds. How was your date?” You and he had the same plans tonight, you just hope it turned out better for him.

“It sucked,” he sighs, sounding like he’s rummaging through his messy chest of drawers. “She didn’t want a date, I guess.”

“Well what did she want?” You ask, going through your own drawers for something comfier to wear.

“Uh, to be shown a good time,” he answers dryly, the sound of rummaging coming to a sudden stop. “Heard the rumors of Munson’s magic fingers and apparently only wanted that.”

Yikes, you think. Eddie’s had many hook ups in the back of his van, but as of late he’s finding himself defeated when they don’t want him, just what he can do for them. Your heart hurt for him last week when he admitted they rarely, if ever, reciprocated.

You didn’t think it’d be an appropriate moment to tell him you would happily reciprocate for him.

“That’s extremely shitty. Guess it’s not all that different from my date though, who expected payback from spending a lousy sixty bucks.”

“Payback?”

“Asked me to suck his dick and pointed to it,” you say, a million times more bluntly than you could to your dad.

“I knew that Daniel guy was an asshole,” he mutters, mostly to himself. “I think our shitty dates deserve each other.”

You laugh, holding the PJs you plan on wearing as you sit cross legged on your bed. “To be honest, I don’t think Daniel would’ve been all that great in bed anyway.”

“I could’ve told you that. He looks like he would call thirty seconds a long time,” Eddie laughs. “Sit tight, princess, I think we’ve earned pancake night at Benny’s.”

“C’mon, I was just about to get comfy!” You whine.

“Nah, wear the pretty dress. It deserves to see a strawberry milkshake, don’t you agree?”

Honestly, a milkshake night with your best friend is exactly what you need. “Sure. See you in twenty?”

“Eh, ten.”

You throw out the flowers, tossing the vase full of water into the kitchen sink, shrugging when your dad gives you an apologetic look. You certainly are already over it, just another asshole in Hawkins, who would’ve thought? When the loud music from Eddie’s stereo pulls up, your dad nods in understanding, telling you to have fun as you leave through the front door.

The date night dress you wear is a summer dress that sits just above your knees, held together by spaghetti straps decorated with pretty blue florals. It's a dress you go to for formal events, and even saw a dance or two back in high school. Of course, you had to dust it off for the cute boy in your Psych class who ended up being a complete dickwad.

The fabric of Eddie’s beat up van is familiar. So familiar that you could argue his passenger seat has a permanent indent from your ass. Eddie has, in fact, pointed it out from one night stoned in the back with him, giggling as you vehemently denied it. At your sudden quiet shut down stature, he patted your ass gently, claiming that he didn’t want any other person’s ass planted on his seat except yours.

That conversation, as hazy as it was, stayed in your mind for days after the fact.

Eddie’s dressed in his own version of a date night outfit, tight jeans exposing his knees with jagged rips under a leather jacket and plain black t-shirt. He’s gorgeous, tauntingly so. It’s not much different from an ordinary outfit, but the faint smell of fresh laundry detergent and his best cologne is the best evidence he’s all dressed up.

The loud music speaks for him, loudly, pulling off before your seatbelt is even clicked into place.

The path from your house to Benny’s is well trekked by you and Eddie on late nights when you should’ve been doing homework but ended up goofing off instead. Martha, a waitress that’s been working there well over twenty years, smiles with smeared red lipstick and too much blue eyeshadow.

You walk in stride with each other, straight to the corner booth as the husk of 20 years of chain smoking barks over the gentle music, “Hey, you two! Eddie, are you finally taking this girl of yours on a date?”

Shut up, you silently beg her, avoiding either of their eyes as you stare at your lap, seemingly fixated on a loose thread at the hem of your dress.

“Oh, I’m not that lucky,” Eddie winks, throwing his arm behind you on the back of the booth. “We’re just recovering after shitty dates.”

“One day, you two,” she muses, tapping her pen rhythmically on her little notepad. It’s never been the same notepad twice, always decorated with a little cartoon sticker on the front. You’re tempted to run to the dollar store and grab her a larger one, but a part of you thinks she thrives on her many little notepads. “Alright, a large strawberry milkshake with two straws, pancakes with extra strawberry sauce and fresh strawberries on top, and waffles loaded with whipped cream and sprinkles. Correct?”

You nod in unison, both aware that she insists you will collectively rot the teeth out from your gums if you insist on overdosing with sugar every damn time you waltz in late at night. She’s given up offering other menu items, having ordered extra strawberries just to make up for your love of the fruit.

Less than five minutes later, following the blissful sound of a blender, the milkshake is wordlessly dropped off at the table, closer to you as even Martha knows you will be drinking 75% of it. The sweet, pinky taste flows easily down your throat, humming softly as you dip into the whipped cream with a finger. “Best milkshake in town,” You assert.

“I wouldn’t know,” Eddie answers, smirking, “you never let us get a milkshake from anywhere else!”

You giggle, licking some of the whipped cream that found a home in the corner of your mouth. “I could never! It would be like cheating! This milkshake would just know,” you drop your voice to a whisper, “it would smell the other milkshakes on me!”

“We couldn’t have that,” Eddie grins, grabbing the large glass to take a sip. “Sorry your date was such a jerk.”

You shrug, already having gotten over it. You’ll just need to sit on the other side of the lecture hall from now on. “He seemed so nice.”

“No offense, sweetheart, but I could’ve told you that Daniel Moore was a shitty person,” Eddie finishes another sip of the milkshake, making a large dip in the glass as the pink slush is pulled up the straw. “He likes to instigate.”

You rest your chin on your elbow, sad the milkshake is already nearly gone. “I had just hoped he would’ve matured by now…”

“In seven months?” Eddie asks you incredulously, raising his brows past his curly bangs. His expression quickly turns curious, tilting his head at you.

“What?”

“So, you’re willing to bet that Daniel Moore has improved just based on personal speculation alone but you’re not willing to believe me when I say Steve Harrington is no longer a douche?”

You roll your eyes. God, you should’ve seen this one coming. “That’s different! I only heard about Daniel. Steve Harrington actually sat back and laughed when Tommy asked–”

“You out as a joke, yeah, I know, I’ve heard it before,” Eddie mumbles, grinning at your shocked expression. “Well, that was like what, three years ago?”

“I still can’t believe you’re friends with Steve Harrington now, of all people! Listen, I know he’s also Dustin’s friend, but I find it hard to believe that you guys even have something in common,” You shrug.

“I still can’t believe you refuse to give him another chance!” Eddie playfully retorts, licking some of the whipped cream that still sits on the rim of the glass. “He’s in your Sociology class, isn’t he?”

Yeah, and he seems to insist on forcing his friendship on you, too, no matter how much you resist it. If you found friendship in Eddie, it seems reasonable to find friendship with Steve, too. Yet, there’s a little part that remembers the cruel laughter, his carelessness with others’ lives, and it ripples down your spine in a violent shudder.

You haven’t gotten rid of the notion of being his friend completely, but it’s just not the right time for you, yet.

You shrug. The topic has too much nuance for a nice dinner with your best friend. Just in time, Martha wordlessly drops off the two plates, the smile that spreads across your face is effortless. Zachary, the night chef must’ve heard about the shitty night and added extra for you, because the mountain of strawberries on the table is huge, even for your standards.

Eddie smirks, reading your mind. “You gonna finish all those?”

“Absolutely!”

Eddie sits on one side of the open courtyard, flicking off ashes from his cigarette as he waits for you to get out of class. He mentally reflects on his crazy afternoon, taking another long, much needed drag. The car with the million symptoms was one thing, but the proposition he got right before, he couldn’t wrap his head around it.

It’s been 13 days since Daniel, four awkward classes of avoiding his glare, and you’ve decided to give up on boys completely. The one you want doesn’t want you, and the dates you’re going on don’t seem to do well no matter who you say yes to. The two offers you’ve gotten in the last week were therefore denied, realizing that even if they are cute, you don’t want to lead anyone on when your heart belongs to someone else.

Before the aforementioned date, you were practically begging for someone to ask you out, but for some inexplicable reason, now you’re getting offers left and right. Somehow people just know when you’re playing hard to get.

At least Eddie’s dates seem to be going terribly for him, as well. That’s one thing you can thankfully count on.

The puff of smoke that leaves his lips as you approach him should not be as gorgeous as it is. It’s practically unfair. “Hey, Eds.”

He flicks the filter, killing it on the cement table he sits at as he blows out one more puff. “Hey, sweetheart.”

Just from that particular look in his eye, you can tell something is on his mind. “You okay, there, Munson?”

He smirks, effortlessly standing up. “I suppose. I’m not sure how to react. Or how you’ll react.”

Your brows meet your hairline, watching his mind move at a million miles per hour. “Ok, Eddie, this better be about a new class of creatures in DnD, or something, because you’re scaring me.”

He smiles, nodding his head over to the halls that lead toward the front door of the campus. “Someone asked me out on a date, earlier, today.”

Your brows furrow, biting back the jealousy that eats at your chest. Every little part of you holds back the monster that threatens to claw its way out, to snarl and hiss at every girl that even so much as looks at him wrong. It’s hard to bite it back, to choke on it purposely, but if you must, you will.

It tastes like venom as you swallow it back down. “Oh, who?”

A faint pink spreads across Eddie’s cheeks, much to your dismay. Not once, in your fuck, what, seven, eight years, of friendship have you ever managed to see Eddie blush. (Just once but it was when you nearly walked in on him jerking himself off a few short years ago.) “Who?”

“Um Chrissy. Chrissy Cunningham?”

Your jaw drops, but your gut falls through the floor. You swear you hear it smash through the tiled floors and fall into the depths of hell.

“She asked you out?”

“Hey! Don’t act so surprised! A cheerleader could like me!”

That was the last thing on your mind. Of course a cheerleader could like Eddie, they’d be stupid not to. No. Every other girl that Eddie has either slept with, or gone on a date with brought no worry to your head, competition, per se. But a girl like Chrissy, one with pretty blonde curls, adorable smile and a sweet disposition, it’s like your worst nightmare come true.

Thanks to living in such a small town, you can recall 99% of the names that Eddie had told you, whether they be hookups or a date. Most of them didn’t intimidate you, only because, selfishly, you could nitpick at things you think wouldn’t work out with Eddie. Whether they were too vapid, too shallow, had none of the same interests as him, only shallowly liked him for his looks, or was a bully…you had something to give great comfort to you to prevent that little jealousy monster from clawing its way out.

This time, your brain wracked itself for some sort of answer. Some sort of flaw in the Queen of Hawkins High that could settle this uneasiness that has taken over your mind. Nothing. Nothing.

“I’m not surprised a cheerleader could like you, I’m surprised that Chrissy Cunningham asked you out,” you answer candidly, walking in step with him to where you supposed was his van. “I’m guessing you said yes?”

“I’d be crazy not to!” Eddie answered sheepishly, tugging at the sleeves of his leather jacket. “I’m taking her out on Friday night.”

“Ah, you’ll tell Steve to take Creeper off hold for us, then?” You try to keep your tone nonchalant, but bitter jealousy coats your tongue.

Eddie stops mid stride, faltering, his brows pinched as he gives you those big brown eyes. “Shit. It totally slipped my mind.”

This is also new. Even as his dates would happen, any previously made plans with him were always a priority. You just hope this doesn’t become a new habit of his.

“We’ll do it on Saturday, yeah?”

You nod, giving him the comfort you suddenly find yourself craving. From the pep in his step, the rosiness of his cheeks, the warm glint in his eyes, you can tell that he’s truly excited. As a best friend, you try to be happy for him, however hard it is to make the smile on your face even remotely convincing.

Eddie curls his arm around your shoulder, tugging you along with him for what will probably be another afternoon in his room, clouded by a haze of weed.

You smoke more than usual, if anything to allow his excitement and plans for his big date in two days to buzz into the background, the bong hit rippling through your lungs as a punishment for yourself.

A weight on your bed suddenly dips down and you sit up quickly to face Eddie sitting on the corner of your mattress with a small smile on his face. Your headphones, still playing the obnoxiously loud music that drowned out his knocks, fall off your head as you sit up. You press the STOP button, clicking loudly in the silence as you stare at your best friend.

The anxiety of his date has eaten you all night long, the only thing strong enough to distract it being music loud enough to hurt your eardrums. You always feel some sort of anxiety, but tonight was even worse, eating at your brain in fear of how painful it might be to be third wheeling with him after being his #1 for so long.

For once, you can’t tell how it went. A slimy, selfish part of you is hoping he shares bad news. His smile breaks. Into a bigger, much brighter beam. Damn.

“How did it go?” You ask, already knowing the answer.

Eddie slams himself onto the bed next to you, hiding his eyes with his hands with his dimples deep, his pearly whites exposed. “Fuck, it was the best date I’ve ever had.”

Your heart shatters. “That good?”

“God, she’s– much better than I thought she could’ve been,” Eddie answers, peeking out from behind his hands. “It’s fucking crazy.”

Of course Chrissy Cunningham, a known sweetheart, is everything he’s ever dreamed of. Of course she lived up to his expectations. Just your luck. “I’m just jealous of your remarkable turn in luck, I guess.”

Eddie chuckles, turning onto his stomach to face you as he kicks his feet. “You’ll have your turn, baby.”

The pet name stings in the worst way. Instead, you raise your brow at him. “Look at you lookin’ like a schoolgirl with a crush. Pretty boy doesn’t even need makeup with all that blush.”

He rolls his eyes, pinching you on the shin. “You’re such a shithead.”

“Yeah, well you still choose to hang out with me anyway, so, that’s on you.” It takes everything in you to ask the following question, “So, tell me about your date, will ya?”

He does. He rattles on and on about how pretty she is, how easy the conversation was, how much she surprised him, how the night ended with a kiss that had Eddie giggling. He lays next to you, leather jacket put aside on the corner chair and boots next to your bunny slippers at the end of your bed. Your small twin mattress has you close in proximity, your side in direct contact with him as he rests his head on his hands.

“She’s such a cool girl, you know?”

You’re half asleep by now, allowing the exhaustion to overwhelm the slight ache in your chest. It zaps through your heart, overwhelms your senses and makes you dizzy. Your eyes flutter shut, but Eddie keeps talking softly next to you.

“Why were you blasting your 8-track, anyway?”

The question harshly yanks you out of the haze, failing to think of something that doesn’t seem completely false. You wish you were a better liar. “Just stressed out about your date.”

He gives you a strange look, eyebrows tilted. “Hmm?”

“We both haven’t had a very good track record, lately, and if things won’t turn around for me, then at least they should do one of us a favor.” Not, not the truth, but definitely an over exaggerated version of it.

“You’re so good to me, you know?” Eddie asks, intertwining his hand with yours. “Wasting your anxiety on me.”

The rings are harsh against your skin, squeezing your fingers tightly. The physical hurt is almost comforting in direct contrast to your emotional hurt.

His scent is comforting, as it lures you like the pied piper into the land of sleep. It’s about another twenty minutes until he realizes there are soft snores coming from you. He doesn’t care to drive all the way home, despite it only being a five minute drive away.

He falls asleep to your comforting breaths, allowing your hand to remain engulfed in his.

The loud ringing of your phone jerks you awake, quickly crawling to the side of your bed as you grab it from the dock housed on the floor.

“Hello?” Sleep sits deep in your voice, spelling out clearly to your caller that you just woke up.

It just occurs to you that you could’ve just allowed your dad to answer it.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Eddie’s voice is chipper, alarmingly so since you’re not even awake yet.

“You sound way too awake for someone that didn’t believe in waking up before 1pm,” you quip, rubbing your eyes sleepily.

“Ha,” he deadpans, yet it's clear he’s smiling. “Chris wants to meet you. I mean, I know you’ve already met her, but you know, as my girlfriend?”

Ugh. It’s been a harrowing three weeks. “Yeah, sure. What did you want to do with her?”

“I thought we could introduce her to pancake night,” Eddie sheepishly answers, like he knows you would be hesitant to invite someone into your holy ritual.

Yeah. You don’t want to invite her. But…you asked for patience last month and it seemed that the universe has answered with a lovesick Eddie Munson.

“I don’t see why not,” you lie, finding it rolls off the tongue much easier than it used to.

“You’re the best! I’ll see after you study in the library, yeah?” He knows your schedule. On Thursdays after the morning Sociology class, you opt to crawl up into a small corner and hermit yourself with snacks and a pile of books to get the work that needs to be done finished.

In high school, you could get away with doing minimum work and passing, but with your dad paying and barely able to afford it even with his second job, it sent the need to do your work to the best of your ability for once. You owed him at least that much from all the calls of missed classes for four years straight.

“Sure.”

As you stretch while hanging up the phone, you glance over to the alarm clock to see the time and it lurches you forward in bed to scramble for clothes, textbooks, and scattered papers as your lecture starts in less than twenty minutes. You’re usually already sitting in the seat by then.

On your way out the door, your dad is surprised you’re still home, offering to drive you. You don’t want to burden him even more than you already have, so you insist you can ride your bike and still get there on time. Well, at least you hope you can.

The bike rack is nearly full when you get to the college, six or seven locks messily put around the poles, most bikes already fallen over. You jam your bike in between two of them, hurriedly wrangling the annoying coil of sturdy cable between what you’re sure is entangled in someone else’s lock, too. Whatever, they should’ve been more organized.

The clock on the wall tells you class started three minutes ago and your heart falls to your stomach, knowing the professor is a stickler for punctuality. His words falter as soon as you enter the hall, the heavy door echoing its creak against the walls. He graciously allows you to sit and get situated before he continues. He makes examples of every late student, and you figured you would never be in his laser eyed focus. Well, before your alarm decided not to go off.

The last chair available is the corner chair in the front row, the one spot in class you love to avoid. It’s too close for comfort, a place he often chooses for students to answer his questions even if they don’t raise their hand.

That, and it’s right beside Steve Harrington.

His fingers raise from the desk as a greeting, sharing a sweet smile as you start to collect your textbook and notes. You awkwardly smile back at him, your attention snapped back to the professor as he pointedly talks right at your desk in his lecture. Fuck, this’ll be annoying.

By the time the three hour lecture ends, your hand hurts from the amount of notes you wrote down, one side covered in graphite from smudging the paper. Your stomach grumbles, asking loudly for lunch after neglecting to eat breakfast as usual.

Unbeknownst to you, Steve follows a step behind. “That lecture was brutal,” You hear from behind you. You toss your head over your shoulder to glance back at him before turning back around.

“I guess.” You say awkwardly. Here we go again.

“Out of curiosity, how are Eddie and his new girlfriend doing? Chrissy Cunningham, huh? I cannot say I saw that coming.”

Neither did you. “They’re doing great, from what I hear. Haven’t really met her, yet,” you answer, heading straight to the small cafe that has a home in the heart of the campus. “Listen, Steve, I really don’t want to talk about this right now.”

“Why not? You don’t think he’s happy with her, or something?”

You stop midstep, turning to face him. “It’s not that. I just don’t have the capacity for it, ok?”

“You like him,” Steve accuses, his brows meeting his hairline.

Your jaw drops, stuttering through an empty sentence. “I do not like him!”

“Really?” Steve laughs, crossing his arms as he watches you build a brick wall around yourself. “So you not wanting to talk about his new girlfriend has nothing to do with the way your face fell when I asked about it?”

How the hell did Steve Harrington pick up on it so fast, of all people?

“Even if I did, why the hell would I want to talk about it with someone I don’t even know?” You sigh, looking wistfully over to the cafe. “Besides, I’m not even caffeinated yet.”

Steve rolls his eyes, nodding towards the said cafe. “Here, if I treat you to some coffee will you talk to me about it?”

“If you add a wrap to the deal, then I’ll think about it,” You say dryly, pulling a laugh from him.

The barista, a student who you’ve gotten to know is somehow managing to do pre-law and work part time smiles nicely.

“I’ll get a vanilla latte with nonfat milk and an extra pump of vanilla, please.”

Steve raises his brow at you before making his own order, “I’ll get a medium black coffee with room for creamer, please, and whatever this lady wants from the menu.”

You scan until you reach the egg omelet wrap with mushroom, bell peppers, and tomatoes. “The loaded omelet wrap.”

After Steve pays he meets you on the handout counter. “Why nonfat milk and the extra pump of vanilla?”

“If I get nonfat then I can replace the sugar with the extra vanilla.”

“Pretty sure that’s not how that works.”

You pick up the cup as it lands on the counter, wincing at the temperature on your tongue. “It works.”

Steve grabs his, shaking his head as he makes his way over to pour some creamer in.

The wrap is soon presented as well, steaming in its cardboard sleeve as the scent alone pools on your tongue with saliva. The only thing that got you through that lecture was just the thought of lunch.

Steve meets you at a two-top by the window, setting his own bag down as he sits right across from you.

The omelet, much too hot to eat, sits waiting for you on the chestnut brown table as you sip on the latte. The latte is much too hot as well, but you’ve never had enough patience to wait for that caffeine kick. If you weren’t so afraid of your professor’s wrath you would’ve shown up another ten minutes late with a coffee cup in hand.

Steve allows you and himself a few minutes of quiet before he speaks. “So, why don’t you tell him?”

You cough mid sip, mentally apologizing to your lungs for allowing non-oxygen to make its way in. “I’m sorry?”

“Stop pretending. Eddie was dead on when he said you were a bad liar,” Steve says, grinning with stupid smirk on his face.

“Why have you and Eddie talked about me?” You ask, narrowing your glance towards him.

“Are you kidding? You’re all he talks about,” Steve shrugs, so nonchalant that you have no choice but to believe him. “Kind of annoying, actually.”

“Why?”

“I have to hear about how great of a friend this girl is but also how she can’t stand me.”

You huff in laughter at how distraught he genuinely seems by it, his face contorted into someone who definitely isn’t used to rejection. You cock an eyebrow at him. “Can you exactly blame me?”

“Yes! I can! Everybody loves me!” Steve rolls his eyes playfully, and damn it if you can’t help but find it mildly amusing.

“Hate to break it to you, there, sweetheart, but the people who were picked on by you don’t exactly crave to be around your oh-so-wonderful presence.”

He squints, crossing his arms as he leans forward. “Picked on? I mean that’s a little harsh, considering–”

“Fine, yes, you didn’t exactly jeer, or outright bully even, but you watched and laughed along and sometimes that feels even worse,” you admit, feeling suddenly small under his gaze. “Tommy and Carol said shit, that’s just what they did… But sitting back and watching sometimes is just as bad. You were nice, sometimes, I guess. But the fact that you had that capacity for kindness and chose against it just spoke volumes.”

“I met them in seventh grade. They weren’t as bad back then, mostly just somewhat belligerent. They got worse over time, but we all had terrible home lives, it was like we were the only ones that got what that was like…and somewhere along the way, I forgot that just because we had an excuse didn’t mean they had the right.”

“I guess that makes sense,” you answer, glancing at the omelet, debating taking your first steaming bite. “I mean, I’m not condoning it, but sometimes loyalty can be blinding.”

“I’m not that douche, anymore. I got that knocked out of me when I was seventeen. Literally. Now I spend most of my free time with a high school junior,” he laughs, taking another large sip of his coffee.

“Aah, Dustin,” you hum, thinking of the many instances where he had tried to convince you of what Steve had just told you. What made you so insistent on denying believing in either of your friends seems to dissipate, however, just in the friendliness that Steve radiates alone. Damn his charisma. “Would you believe me if I said he vouched for you many times?”

“The kid loves me, what can I say?” He shrugs, not hiding his laughter. “Now. Back to you. Why not tell him?”

No use in hiding it. If Steve can bare his soul in the middle of the day at a damn cafe just to get you to trust him, you suppose you owed him the same. “‘Cause he doesn’t feel the same,” you answer, starting to peel open the snack from the hunger pang. “Why make it weird when there’s nothing that could come from it?” You shrug, looking down sheepishly as the weight of your words sink into your heart like a stone.

“Doesn’t like you. Are you sure about that?” Steve asks, licking his lips.

You hesitate. “Is this a trick question?”

“Nope. I just wonder if you truly believe it, or if you’re too scared to let yourself have something you’ve wanted for so long.”

“Where do you get off on acting like you’re some sort of expert on this?” You ask, folding your arms across your chest. The question rings out from the mere fact that he is dead on the nose. He couldn’t be any more right. The very idea that Eddie had even an inkling of what you had for him scares you to death. You would rather keep him as a friend and lie in wait than lose him from a great love and not have him at all.

“I’m more observant than most people give me credit for,” he admits, twirling his almost empty coffee cup. “I’ve heard countless hours of Eddie talking about you, yet I haven’t heard him speak once about Chrissy. That says a lot, don’t you think?”

“Well, me neither, and I’m his best friend. Don’t get down on your luck.”

“You are both idiots. Just tell him. Seriously. I’m sick of you both acting like a pair of love sick fools.”

“You seem to be very convinced of something that is not real,” you tell him, garbled from the bite of omelet you’re in the middle of swallowing. “If you keep this energy up when you’re studying, you would probably do pretty well for yourself.”

“Fine. Remain in denial. I don’t care. You can destroy yourself from the inside. Who cares? Just, let me in. I need someone to help me with these assignments. They are mind numbingly dull.” He throws his hands up like he’s admitting defeat.

“You need a study buddy?” You laugh, hiding the food that sits in between bites. “I suppose that could be arranged.”

“Sweet. Now are you gonna treat me to a coffee every now and then, or?”

“I have a single father, not an unlimited credit card from Daddy’s big business, Steve Harrington.” You say matter-of-factly, jabbing your finger towards him accusingly.

“Oh, so I have to provide the newly released movies and buy the coffee, I see how it is.”

“Privilege breeds responsibility, Stevie. I don’t make the rules.” You give him a half smirk. As you look at him, you’re finally seeing the person you thought could see all those years ago behind the mask of his terrible friends. Steve’s ambush would be the best thing to come out of the next few weeks.

Because it turned into hell.

As your hair runs wild behind you, there’s a grand attempt to allow yourself to let the wind distract you from the sinking feeling in your gut. It grows bigger and bigger, until it becomes unbearable as you reach the gravel lining the trailer park. You allow your bike to fall heavily on the trailer, taking a moment to collect your courage before knocking on Eddie’s front door.

It feels weird knocking. You can’t even recall the last time you did. But, you refuse to overstep any boundaries that might not be communicated yet. Being on Chrissy’s good side will make your life a lot easier.

Eddie answers the door, out of breath and sweating with wild eyes and even crazier hair. “Hey!”

“Hey,” you greet, stepping in right behind him. You blink, taking in the pristine surroundings. It’s like stepping into an alternate dimension, one where Eddie and Wayne regularly cleaned their trailer and preferred the smell of lavender over stale beer and greasy pizza boxes. The kitchen is spotless, the living room has a lit candle sitting on the coffee table, and the shelves containing the million mugs were dusted. “Who are you and what the hell did you do with my best friend?” You laugh.

He chuckles sheepishly, crossing his arms in front of his chest as protection. “Uh, is it too much?”

“Better warn her now so she doesn’t get used to cleanliness,” you answer, watching as the surfaces around you sparkle and shine.

“Ha, ha. I have to get dressed. I have some snacks on the kitchen counter. You mind starting the popcorn?” Eddie doesn’t bother waiting for you to answer, already walking to his room.

You get a glimpse of his bedroom as he shuts the door behind him, smirking at the clothes still scattered on his floor. At least one part of this little haven of yours remains normal.

The popcorn shakes in your hold as you continually stir it on the stove to prevent it from sticking to the bottom of the thin aluminum bottom and burning. Just as the first batch of kernels reach their limit, a knock from the front door hits, each one feeling like a crack in any normalcy you’ve ever had.

Things will never feel the same ever again. Not after tonight. On your way to open the door you try to tell yourself that it can be a good thing.

Right?

The door opens to the once head cheerleader of Hawkins High, wearing a pink dress that fits her tiny frame nicely with blonde curls and bangs that beautifully frame her face. Her hands are folded behind her back, standing meekly in white sneakers and long lashes and blue eyeshadow. It’s hard not to be envious of how pretty she is.

It’s clear she’s not expecting you to open the door. “Hey! Sorry, Eddie’s just in his room. He should be out any minute.”

“Oh. Ok,” she enters as you back up, wringing her hands together, probably out of anxiety. “What movie did he rent?”

“You know, I was so busy making fun of him for cleaning up for once I didn’t bother to ask,” you admit, hoping to make the atmosphere just a little bit lighter.

She looks around the place, seemingly taking it in. “Hmm,” she hums, walking over to the couch. “It’s cute when they try so hard.”

“Sure,” you answer, walking back to the kitchen, hoping the popcorn isn’t irredeemably burnt. “Do you want butter on the popcorn?”

“Yes please!”

You’re in the middle of mentally begging Eddie to come out already while the butter melts in the microwave, the hum of the microwave loud in the silence.

“Okay! I’m ready!” Eddie announces, opening the bedroom door with a flourish. “Sorry for the wait!”

As he gets to the couch behind Chrissy, he wraps her in a big hug and plants kisses all over her neck. “How you doin’, sweetheart?”

You hold back the nausea as you pour the hot butter all over the popcorn in the large plastic bowl. You find it ironic that this is the same bowl you’ve held back Eddie’s hair over as he hurled into it. You just hope Wayne thoroughly cleaned it.

“Popcorn is ready, can y’all help me bring the chips and candy?” You ask, shaking the bowl to coat the butter over each kernel.

“We can do that,” Eddie answers, grabbing Chrissy’s hand as they walk to the kitchen.

“How can I help?” Chrissy asks, arms open as she looks around a kitchen she has no familiarity with.

“Um there’s some soda in the fridge, grab me and Ed a Coke, and you can grab yourself whatever you want,” you answer, pointing to the twenty year old fridge in the corner.

“Hand me some,” you command, holding a single hand for one of the many bags of snacks Eddie juggles.

The popcorn and a couple dozen little bags land on the coffee table in front of a blank tv screen. Chrissy sits with a soft grunt in between the two of you, cradling the cans of coke and sprite in her tiny arms.

She distributes the cans, handing them over to you and him. Eddie squats in front of the TV, pressing play on the tape which he apparently already prepared to watch. His plaid boxers peek out of his jeans, sitting above the studded belt as he adjusts volume and picture.

You share a smile with the blonde, opening your can and wincing at the loud hiss. You keep thinking about the days you and Chrissy will look back on how awkward this was. How the first days of this trio were so weird, and off putting, and how she thought you were a bitch when she met you.

Where she’s a friend.

You have to try.

“What are we watching?”

Eddie turns around slowly, that over exaggerated smile on his face that tells you he’s up to nothing but trouble. “Oh just a little somethin’”

“Oh god,” you wince, knowing that look on his face. You lean into her, whispering, “Hope you like horror.”

Chrissy turns to you with wide eyes and a queasy smile. “Not really.”

“Oh, this one is a classic,” Eddie promises, animatedly using his hands as he crouch-walks back next to her. “If any movie can turn someone into a horror fan, it’s this one.”

As soon as the music starts playing you recognize it. It’s a tune you’ve heard many times in his living room, subjected to it too many times if you had anything to say about it. Of course, you’ll watch it with him every time, regardless.

“Halloween? Seriously? The serial killer stalking the babysitter? You couldn’t think of anything else?” You roll your eyes. He could probably do a whole reenactment of the movie word for word if he tried.

“It’s a classic for a reason, sweetheart,” Eddie tells you, grabbing the bowl straight away. Of course, he will rip through the popcorn, he always does.

You feel Chrissy tense up, not that you can blame her. You suppose a talk about proper pet names will be necessary.

Each bag of snacks is eventually opened because you can’t stick to one bag long enough to finish it even if you tried. You get bored of the same taste too often. You have your favorite few, fuzzy peaches, M&Ms, Reese's Pieces, Swedish fish, and last and most controversially, at least where Eddie’s concerned, salt and vinegar chips.

He always has his own snacks at his disposal from nights of having the munchies, always on a dollar store run for said snacks. At each movie night he restocks, both yours and his alike, and suddenly you realize you will need to remember Chrissy’s too, if you’re going to be cordial.

With each bloody death that splatters the walls on screen, Chrissy grows closer and closer to Eddie. There’s a part of you that has considered using scary movies to cuddle up to him, but you’re just not genuinely scared of them enough to consider it. The ruse would’ve faded eventually. You try not to let the jealousy eat you up from the inside, no matter how much it burns your skin.

His arm wraps around her, petting her shoulder gently as she whimpers at the slash of his knife. “It’s corn syrup. Totally fake. You can tell by the color, it’s way too bright.”

Towards the end, the loud, chirpy, nauseating sound of kissing fills your ears. Your eyes can’t help it, they move towards the noise and immediately regret it. Oh god, they’re kissing. If you can even call that kissing. He’s practically engulfed her mouth.

Surely, with the company they have, they’ll stop, right? Their heads will remember and sheepishly get the fuck off each other? Right?

Two scenes and what feels like forever, later, you realize how wrong you are. “I’m glad you two are crazy for each other, really I am, but can we please wait until I’m gone?” You give an awkward laugh to try to stifle the discomfort coursing through your veins.

Eddie makes a surprised sound, almost like he completely forgot you were there. “Shit–sorry.”

Chrissy doesn’t make any apologies, in fact, you miss the way she rolls her eyes against his chest. She wanted to keep going, hoping you would take her hint to get lost.

Before long, the end of the movie finally arrives, the end credits rolling with that famous piano tune. Chrissy has practically stitched herself to Eddie’s side, her arms wrapped around his waist. The popcorn bowl is nearly full. All that work on it for nothing.

You sigh, about to claim that it’s your cue to leave when–

“I’m thinking we should show Chrissy one of our pancake nights, don’t ya think?”

No. You don’t want that. From the way Chrissy completely tenses up, neither does she. But for his sake, you both reluctantly agree.

Hawkins looks a lot different from Eddie’s backseat.

As the ring of the bell against the glass door announces your arrival, Martha’s head snapping up from the magazine she’s buried her nose in. “Hey you two, I was wondering when I would see you again!”

You and Eddie walk directly to the corner booth, as per usual, Chrissy trailing a half step behind him with her left hand intertwined with his right. Before Martha walks up to the booth, she starts the blender, the sound oddly comforting for how uneasy you feel.

“Well, looks like we got ourselves a little straggler! What’s your name darlin’?” She asks, the notebook she now holds a dark purple instead of the red she had last time.

Chrissy stares blankly at her, curling back into him. You don’t remember her being this shy in High School.

“This is Chrissy,” Eddie introduces her, giving her a fond look. “She’s my girlfriend.”

Martha’s penciled brows raise straight to her ruby red hair, the chewing gum loud in her silence. Her surprise only lasts two seconds, shifting into hospitality for the new member. “Welcome to these two’s many, many nights spent here at Benny’s. In fact, could you make them come a little less often. We’re starting to get annoyed at them.” She jokes, throwing a wink at you.

You laugh with Eddie, taking note of the fact that Chrissy is still silent.

“Alright, well I already know what these two want, did you need a second to look over the menu?”

She nods.

“Alright, well, I’ll be right back with your milkshake.”

“Can you make it one medium, one large with two straws?” You ask Martha, sure it would get more awkward if she brought one for you and Eddie to share.

“Oh, sure,” she answers, her voice unusually soft.

Less than five minutes later she returns with two milkshakes and a menu.

“Oh,” Chrissy comments, looking curiously at the pink ice cream drink in front of her. “I don’t really like strawberry. Can I get vanilla instead?”

Your forehead meets the table, punishing yourself. “Shit. I’m so sorry! I didn’t even think to ask.” Eddie apologizes.

“It’s fine.” Chrissy smiles sweetly at him.

“Oh, you gotta eat breakfast, it’s tradition,” Eddie mutters, switching her page to the all day breakfast menu.

“Hmm,” she responds, pointing to one of the menu options. “I think I’ll get the poached egg with the avocado toast.”

“Alright. Should be out quickly,” Martha answers, grabbing the milkshake from them.

“How often do you guys come here?” Chrissy asks, turning her face to Eddie.

He shrugs nonchalantly. “Probably more often than we should. Like when shit goes sideways, or we need a hit of sugar, or when we just feel like bugging Miss Martha, over there.”

“When did you start coming?”

“My junior year,” you answer, smiling at the memory, “his second attempt at senior year, we both didn’t want to go to the stupid school dance, so we decided to get dressed up and come here, instead.”

“Why didn’t you want to go?”

Eddie shrugs, petting her shoulder with his thumb. “We thought it was dumb. Then, we ened up coming back when both of us failed this one really important bio test. Then, by the third time she remembered our orders and had the blender going by the time we sat down.”

Eddie asks how your day was, so you inform him you managed to have a civilized conversation with Steve Harrington. You have an audience for the conversation, one member animatedly interested, the other politely listening.

Polite is definitely the way to describe it, no spark in her eye. At least, not the one she wears when she listens to her boyfriend speak. In fact, you can practically see them glaze over.

Just as you nearly avoid explaining the main topic of the awkward conversation, Martha comes back over with two plates, one for you, one for Chrissy. It’s only half a moment until she’s back with the new milkshake and third plate.

The mountain of strawberries is bigger than average this time, this larger size becoming something you might get used to if the staff continues to spoil you like this. You take another flick of whipped cream from the top of the milkshake, suddenly realizing you’ve barely taken a sip the entire time. Damn, it’s usually half gone by the time you get your food.

“Do you guys order the same thing everytime?” Chrissy asks, looking at both of your plates.

“Yup!” You exclaim, spreading the strawberry sauce around your plate.

Her blonde brows furrow. “Maybe it’s not good to eat this much sugar every time you guys come here,” she comments, cutting at her squishy green toast. It doesn’t look appetizing to you in the least.

“It’s not like we come here every night,” Eddie laughs, spreading his sprinkled whip around the fluffy waffle. “It’s fine to indulge every now and then, you know?”

“Maybe you guys should try something a little healthier?” Chrissy asks, her voice having what you think is a little bit of a bite in it.

“People don’t exactly come here to eat healthy, Chrissy,” you laugh, thinking of the menu item called Heart Attack Jack, which is a burger doused in American Cheese with layers of bacon and a bucket of grease. It’s not going to be a soccer mom’s number one choice for health.

“You don’t have to bite my head off, it was just a suggestion,” Chrissy mutters, curling into herself.

“I-I didn’t,” you reply, very surprised at her knee jerk reaction. “I’m just saying, if we wanted to go somewhere to eat healthy, we probably wouldn’t pick a greasy diner in a small town in the middle of nowhere. Honestly, I’m not sure anywhere in Hawkins really has the healthiest choice.”

“Chris, what she’s trying to say is that eating a crap load of sugar is just tradition at this point,” Eddie says, intertwining her hand with his. “It’s a part of our ritual. You don’t have to eat like us if you don’t want to, we just thought you’d want to be included.”

“It’s just a lot of sugar, is all.” She’s barely taken a chunk out of her food, resembling a bunny in the very small, very tiny bites she continues to take. “Maybe I won’t join you guys next time. I don’t really understand the point.” She says sheepishly.

In the depths of your soul, you feel at that moment you would probably never get along with her, have given up hope on her completely. It wouldn’t be for a handful of weeks until you acknowledge that you had sound reasoning.

The bill is paid, money hitting the table on your and Eddie’s parts, the vanilla milkshake just barely touched. If you knew she wasn’t gonna drink it you would’ve doubled down on the strawberry, Eddie hates vanilla.

As you walk out to the van, trailing behind them as he wraps his arm around her shoulders, you find yourself at an impasse. “Eddie, can you give me a ride home?” Chrissy asks. She moves on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear, “Maybe I can ride you before you drop me off?”

The pancakes you wolfed down churn back up your throat, threatening to make their second appearance for the night.

Eddie’s cheeks flush, his eyes wide as he tugs her in. Guess that answers that question. “Um, do you need a ride?” He asks you, almost avoiding your eyes.

Chrissy’s death stare is plain as day, silently warning you not to take it. Fine, you didn’t want to sit in the van with these two, anyway.

“No, it’s fine. I can grab my bike from the back.”

Chrissy beams, her curls bouncing as she jogs to the passenger seat. You hope your ass imprint is uncomfortable for her.

Eddie returns with the bike, putting it gently down in front of you. “Hey, Ed?”

“Hmm?”

“Might want to teach your girlfriend how to whisper,” you tell him, grabbing the handles from him. “It’s not considered a whisper when everyone in a ten foot radius can hear!” It comes out harsher than you intend it, but with how horribly tonight has gone, you can’t bring yourself to want to apologize.

“Oh, fuck,” Eddie swears, the pink in his cheeks now from embarrassment. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t mention it,” you insist, dismissing it. You had a feeling she said it loud enough for you to hear on purpose, anyway. “Just use protection, ok? We don’t need any more Munsons in this world running around, creating chaos.”

If you got Chrissy pregnant I would actually be sick, is what you mean.

“Shut up,” Eddie laughs, wrapping you in a hug over the bike. “See you next time, slugger.”

That was when you changed from sweetheart to slugger.

There’s no whiplash like discovering your best friend is a completely different person when he’s in a relationship. On one hand, phone calls with him are as ordinary as always, teasing and jeering and flush with the familiarity of a best friend.

On the other hand, when you meet with him and his girlfriend, he seems to dampen his wild personality and slice it into ribbons for her sake. It kills you.

Reruns play on the small tv, old cartoons Wayne recorded for a rambunctious little kid in his mix. You’ve watched them enough to know some of them by heart, especially your favorite gags.

Eddie sits in the corner of the couch, curled up with Chrissy on his lap as they talk quietly. They’re low enough you can barely make out what they’re saying, but from the giggles alone, you have no interest in the nausea it would give you.

She was already in his lap when you got there, a sarcastic comment choked back having something to do with maybe getting off, opting to sit on the other end.

“Oh, Ed, the movie is next Friday,” you remind him, taking another sip of the ice cold coke in front of you.

“Remind me what that was?” Eddie asks you, peering his chin over Chrissy’s head.

You narrow your eyes, scoffing in incredulousness. “Uh, hello? I did not wait in line for hours for the Princess Bride just for you to forget!”

“OH, fuck I didn’t realize that was coming up so quickly!” Eddie exclaims, a wild look in his eyes. “Well, shit I’ll make sure to free my oh-so-busy schedule!”

“Sweet.”

“Oh, I totally wanted to see that movie!” Chrissy chirps, sitting up in Eddie’s lap. “Are there any more tickets for the night you guys are going for?”

“It’s been sold out for weeks,” you shrug, chomping on a potato chip. “I stood in line for like six hours that morning.”

“Oh,” she mutters, curling into him.

You wish you could say it doesn’t give you great pleasure to know she won’t be able to crash your movie night.

“You think, uh,” she starts, turning around to face you. “You think I could have your ticket and Eddie could take me?”

You scoff, bewildered that this even crossed her mind. “I beg your pardon?”

“I mean, I really wanted to see it and it doesn’t really make sense for you two to go out for a date, now that he’s dating me…”

“I think you forgot the part where I stood in line for six hours to get these tickets,” you reply, trying to catch Eddie’s eyes. He’s avoiding you.

“And I’m sure we’ll all go next time!” She offers as an almost smug smile plays at her lips.

She can’t be serious. After watching her face, you realize she is fully expecting you to give up your ticket so she can go with him. Guess that Iron Maiden concert coming up this summer is off the table, too, you think, rubbing your eyes tiredly.

You look at him, waiting for him to say something to indicate how ridiculous his girlfriend is being, to stand up for you.

Oh. He’s not going to.

“I really don’t see the big deal.” Chrissy scoffs.

Of course you don’t. “I’m sorry, but I’m not giving you my damn ticket!” you snap. “If you really don’t want Eddie to come with me that badly then I can get Steve to take me.”

Which is ridiculous, Eddie was the one who wanted to see this movie in the first place. It looked like it was about adventure, something Eddie loves in movies. You decided then sure, since his birthday is right after the movie comes out, you’ll stand in line for the tickets then treat him to a fun movie night.

If Chrissy is uncomfortable with that, then that’s her prerogative, but she can choose something else to do with her boyfriend since she wants to so badly. You won’t let her walk all over you.

Chrissy doesn’t answer, but she’s clearly upset by yours. “It’s alright, babe,” Eddie hums, tugging her up against his chest so she curls into him. “I can wait until it comes out. We’ll just rent it, yeah?”

You’re not sure which makes you more nauseous, the fact that he just made a plan with her that won’t come to fruition for six months, or that he had nothing to say in the conversation.

You’ve never felt so unwelcome on his couch. “I’m gonna head home. I’ll see you later.”

Whatever comes out of Eddie’s mouth then falls on deaf ears as you fight the tears that irrationally threaten to spill over your water line. They’re stupid, your emotions are stupid, the movie is stupid.

Steve sits on the other side of the light brown table in the library, hunched over some notes as you explain the concept to him once more.

“Ugh, this is ridiculous, I’m going to forget this as soon as we learn it,” Steve whines, rubbing his eyes.

“Well you’re only taking Sociology because you haven’t claimed a major yet and sociology is required in most degrees.”

“That’s true,” he smirks, stretching his arms. “This still is all starting to look like gibberish. I get it, we live in a society in which the rules are not in our favor, why does that have to be studied to this intent?”

You shrug. “It’s fascinating.”

“To who?”

You roll your eyes, wondering how he grew on you like a weed. “Alright, we’ll take a break, then.”

“Any plans upcoming for next Wednesday?”

“Uh, no, at least not that I’m aware of,” you answer, putting your highlighter down. “We were supposed to see the movie for it, but, well you know how that turned out.”

“I’m sure there’s something he’s planning,” Steve assures, tapping his pencil rhythmically. “It’s not like him to not make a spectacle of his birthday.”

That, you agree with.

“Dustin said he hasn’t heard anything about it, either. He almost planned a surprise party for him. You think he’s just taking it easy this year?”

You doubt it, he’s turning 21, after all. Not like hasn’t been going to bars since he was fifteen, but now at least he’d be able to go into a major city with his real ID without getting flagged. Last year he prattled on about plans for this one, how he was gonna have a big rager at Steve’s and drop a whole paycheck on kegs.

You’re sure if he was going to do anything in those next two days, then he would’ve told you by now.

That Wednesday morning, you rise early to the sound of your alarm.

The kitchen counter is already filled with the ingredients you need, preparing for a labor of love. You hook your Walkman to your jeans, listening to the music blaring in your ears as you add one ingredient at a time, watching the batter slowly come to shape.

It’s familiar, your mom’s famous homemade recipe for cake batter. After missing her many cakes and the familiarity of her food, you finally searched for the cards containing her neat print, clearly and concisely telling the reader what her recipes needed.

It became your favorite thing to do when you missed her.

As you pour the batter into each divet in the tray, you recall the first time you thought to make a birthday cupcake for Eddie.

Neither of you cared much for first period, so it was easy to catch him before he woke up. That day you presented a vanilla cupcake with a swirl of black and blue frosting. You learned that morning he hates vanilla.

Every other instance of making him a cupcake has been a litany of flavors, but never vanilla.

As they bake, you whip up the frosting with a hand mixer, hoping the low hum doesn’t wake your father. He works so hard already. Red food coloring turns it from white, the process all too satisfying.

A plastic sandwich bag with the corner cut off is always just enough for you to pipe frosting on, the skilled hand you’ve trained after trial and error working fast.

Your dad always knows on February 19th he will wake up to 11 cupcakes on a big plate.

The pastry sits in a comically large container as you borrow your dads truck, the sun just barely peeking over the horizon as you climb the stairs to the Munson’s front door.

You balance the cupcake in your hand as you head straight down the hall towards Eddie’s room. The sounds filling the trailer take a moment to register, for some reason not realizing how quiet it should be on an early weekday morning. The only sounds should be that of an early bird or newspaper hitting the front door.

Dread finds home in your stomach, as if on a very instinctual level you realize what you’re hearing. Though for some crazy, masochistic reason, those instincts wanted to be sure.

His door, wide open, reveals him hunched over Chrissy with the blanket barely covering his broad shoulders as he’s rocking. He’s rocking…and oh, you can hear her, too.

She’s moaning, whining, clawing her nails up his back like a leech, or worse, a tick, digging itself in and refusing to give up the tight hold they have on their victim.

Your mind goes empty, numb, until you hear her faintly wish him a happy birthday. You blink yourself out of the trance, blindly stumbling back into the fresh air of the living room. The cupcake lands on the kitchen counter on your way out the door, not caring as it slams behind you, definitely alerting Eddie and Chrissy of the third unknown presence in the trailer.

You couldn’t find it in yourself to even care about it, the queasiness deep rooted in your stomach threatening to make itself known on the outside plants.

You have a class in less than an hour, something you need to continue into the second year of your Communications degree, but not something that requires brain power.

The simple question of how you managed to ride your bike all the way to the campus, take notes in your class and blindly walk over to the library will always escape you. You somehow watch yourself go through the motions until you meet Steve at the cafe.

The moment he sees you, he knows something is wrong just by the deadened stare that’s taken over your face.

When you break down into tears, he brings you to his house, letting you finally admit to him what you’ve been afraid to admit to yourself.

You’re in love with your best friend. And while you’re doing your best to be happy for him, your poor heart can’t handle it.

The cupcake isn’t mentioned until you call him two days later, still heartbroken, but missing his voice. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, despite the great ache that makes each and every day fuzzy.

Usually, more than half the cupcakes get eaten by him, which is why a dozen are made each year. There’s still more than half left, the very sight of the cupcakes depleting your appetite as his continued absence carves a bigger and bigger hole in you.

He answers on the fifth ring, sounding as if he’s in the middle of rummaging through items in some way, slightly out of breath. “Hey, Chris, sorry I can’t find–”

You swallow the pain. Maybe the lump of pain swallowed in your stomach will finally evict itself like the contents of stomachs should. Yet, the more you throw it up, the more it seems to gather. How does that work? “It’s me.” You say dryly, tiredly.

“Shit,” he breathes, the background noise coming to a sudden halt. “Hey, you.”

“Hey. How was the cupcake?”

“The mysterious appearing pastry was delicious as always, slugger.” Slugger. “What-what time did you drop it off?”

You know that he knows that you heard something. He doesn’t know how much you heard, but he knows the slam of his front door was you.

“I didn’t hear much. Just enough to know you had already received your birthday present for the year,” the attempt at humor doesn’t hit you very well. You’re not sure how it’s received, but Eddie laughs regardless.

“Sorry about that, she slept over the night before unplanned. I should’ve remembered your yearly morning cupcake.”

“Should’ve remembered you have a girlfriend,” you answer, wishing you had that better judgment. “Did you do anything for your birthday?”

“Chris took me out for dinner with her parents.” Honestly, that sounds like it was for her more than it was for him.

“Sounds fun,” you deadpan, earning earnest chuckles from him.

“They’re an acquired taste,” Eddie offers, allowing your slight criticism of his birthday party.

“You sure you still don’t want to go to Indianapolis and bar hop?” You can’t help but ask. It’s like you can hear his reluctance to accept the celebration he got.

“Nah. Besides, we can’t risk your fake ID, after all.” He pauses, an understated sigh passing through his breath. “How has school been?”

Small talk is not often something that passes through a conversation between you two. You’re aware of it, he’s aware of it, and it turns the conversation into something almost jilted.

“I miss you,” you admit, lying back on your bed.

“I miss you,” he parrots, soft and sweet.

“Can we do something? Just you and me?”

He chuckles, low and under his breath. “Sure. Pancake night. Just you, me, and Martha’s perfume.”

…that never happened.

The less you see Eddie, the more you end up hanging out with Steve. He seems to want to introduce you to his own best friend, but your admission of not wanting to be a third wheel again gets him to drop it. You can’t help but notice the only times you speak to Eddie are when you call him. He hasn’t called you since asking for Chrissy to join pancake night.

That alone wouldn’t entirely convince you to not call him anymore. The jilted conversations always ending with promises of time with one another never coming to fruition. It’s the equivalent of being skinned alive, one strip at a time.

Steve has watched the circles under your eyes darken, the enthusiasm in class deplete, and the lust for life dissolve before his very eyes. To say he’s pissed at his friend is to understate it, he’s ready to tell you to give up on him and forget he exists.

Yet, Steve knows how unlike Eddie it all is. Dustin has complained he hasn’t been called back for a long time, Gareth reached out to you asking if you’d heard from Eddie lately as they haven’t rehearsed for a while. He garners more concern than anger at times.

Steve’s living room has become a new choice of hang out space, but the unnatural cleanliness of the house, the lack of cologne that both Eddie and Wayne use, the familiarity of eight years of friendship, it gives this unrelenting feeling of emptiness. It’s worth trying to fill it with edibles and weed.

It doesn’t seem to work, but you’ve become more open, more free willing with him as a direct result. He doesn’t favor horror movies like you and Eddie, but you find common ground in action and slapstick comedy, instead. Anything but romcoms, you implore. Anything even close to resembling romance is rejected.

Steve spills the latest he heard from Hawkins’ elite country club group, a bunch of ladies with nothing better to do with their afternoons than spread rumors about the population as a whole and judge them for it. Steve knows for a fact which members of the country club have side women, bringing them in hours after walking in with their own wives.

It’s so nice to be concerned with the lives of others and to not care about yours falling apart at the seams. Well, really it's being ripped apart by Chrissy Cunningham’s greedy little claws.

Ironically enough, you get paired up with Steve for a major assignment in Soc class, one required to analyze social constructs that have been deep dived in class. Another little gift of irony is you were given Social Stratification, which is the hierarchical arrangement of individuals or groups within a society based on various factors such as wealth, power, and prestige.

Being from two very different classes, you and Steve find yourself uniquely qualified to discuss the topic.

It provides opportunities to hang out together, distracted by the collective want to not work at all, but driven by an looming due date. Your mind wanders to Eddie non stop, wondering how he is, if he’s ok, if work is still giving him a hard time, did he finally get the belt he was needing, if Wayne was taking it easier.

Your fingers itch for the phone to call and ask, always haunted by the memory of each phone call, the polite conversation and empty promises. You crave to remember what it was like before.

Steve seems to act as your voice of reason, disencouraging you every time you mention wanting to call him. He sympathizes, of course, but he recalls the last time you called him and the aftermath following it.

When the assignment is finally in the last stages, making final edits to clear up any loss in conciseness, the final second guesses if the point has been made clear, you sit on the floor of Steve’s room cross legged, going cross eyed as you reread it, again.

“I can’t wait for this thing to be handed in,” you groan, throwing your pen at him.

“I think we earned a celebration,” he sighs, throwing the pen back to you. “On Friday, after we finally hand over this paper to this asshole, I am throwing a big ass party in your honor.”

“A party will not make me feel better,” you reprimand, glancing at him under your brows.

“No, but a good excuse to drink the pain away, might,” he grins, leaning forward on his stomach and kicking his legs animatedly. He looks so innocent, as if he doesn’t have his own agenda. You’ve come to know him well enough that he really doesn’t. “C’mon. Let loose with me just for one night!”

You reluctantly agree to it after he pulls out his dumb puppy eyes.

News of Steve’s party spreads fast across campus, and you find yourself curiously excited for it when you usually dread dancing with complete strangers. The strangers at this point make it better, not needing to concern yourself with anything other than how the alcohol burns.

Your dad drives you to the party, the rain heavy on the pavement making it hard to bike in such weather. He’s noticed the way you’ve shut down a little bit as of lately, more than happy to bring you to a party if it means putting some life back into the eyes of his one and only daughter.

When you enter the door with slightly damp hair just from the walk from the truck, the party is already in full swing, music overtly loud, bodies bumping and dancing, empty cups already scattered on dusty surfaces.

As soon as you see Steve, he waves you over, talking to Robin, who he’s introduced you to. She became your friend the same way he became your did; ambush. Turns out, Robin is really cool. She hands you a beer, winking as you tilt your eyebrow out of skepticism.

“Beer, really?” You ask over the music, turning the bottle around in your hand.

“You’re drinking to forget, right?” She asks, an air of wisdom in her scratchy voice. “Then what does it matter what it tastes like?”

Well, you guess she’s right. You grab another from the fridge while you’re at it before they lead you to a couch. It’s surrounded by a crowd of people you mostly have never met before, more than happy to laugh with them at the particularly stupid topics of conversation.

You’re already pretty buzzed less than an hour spent at the party, having asked Steve to get you a third bottle. “Might wanna slow down, sweets.”

“I’m drinking to forget, remember?” You ask him, winking cheekily.

Time starts to meld together as the bottle gets emptier and emptier. Robin grabs you by the hand to dance with her and Steve in a circle, top 40 pop acting as a soundtrack while you forget any goddamn trouble that might have plagued you.

You’re chatting about some mindless gossip when something tells you to turn your head towards the door. The door opens to Eddie and Chrissy, holding hands as they look around the party that got even rowdier since your arrival.

Eddie’s eyes meet yours, frozen in place as the emptiness his absence has left consumes you.

“Oh shit,” Robin mutters right next to you, but you don’t answer it as you stumble your way into the kitchen.

The internal debate on whether you need to drink water or more alcohol is roaring, so you drown it with more alcohol. Maybe you can shut it up. It’s too fucking loud. The ajar door opens and closes, a presence in the kitchen you don’t bother acknowledging. You don’t smell Eddie’s cologne, the momentary disappointment flooding your senses that he saw you and didn’t even bother talking to you.

Another sip. Another gulp. Make it go away.

“I was wondering when I would run into you,” it’s not Eddie, or Steve. Confusion takes over you as you wonder which male voice in your life you’re forgetting, turning to face the culprit.

Daniel.

“Here I am, I guess,” you mutter, taking another swig. “What exactly do you want?”

“Retribution.”

“Huh?”

He laughs, cruel and blunt. “I’m here for what I’m owed, sweetheart. I don’t get told no. Girls don’t say no to me. So, I think I’m owed some payback for the humiliation you put me through.”

What the fuck?

The laughter that leaves your throat is loud and abrupt, clearly not what he’s expecting. “Oh my fucking god, you’re just delusional. Girls don’t owe you shit for buying them dinner! You ask us out for a date, that’s on you, bud!”

“I don’t fucking think so,” he growls, slinking in closer. You can smell his breath, he’s clearly been drinking. “I will get what I want, I always do.”

Panic floods your brain, suddenly realizing he’s being dead serious. “Wait–” you protest as he leans in, the wall and your back colliding harshly. “Wait, no–”

“All you had to do was blow me, baby,” he chides, as if he’s reprimanding a small child. His hand harshly wraps around your waist, preventing you from weaving from between him and the wall. “Now look what you made me do.”

You try to push him off, panic continuing to push up your throat as he proves himself much stronger than you. Oh god, am I about to get raped in Steve’s kitchen?

His hand feels slimy as it pushes past your shirt, sending a jolt of shivers down your body. You’re shaking from fear, one cheek against the wall as you continue to resist him. “Stop– Daniel, please stop–” Your voice is frantic, eyes wide in terror as you try to push his hands away.

The harsh laughter directed at your pleas are cut off, an incredibly familiar voice slicing the air with malice. “She said stop.”

The heat you were surrounded by is thrown off, leaving the cold air behind Daniel to overwhelm you as he’s thrown onto the floor.

Blows of fists on flesh fill the room, watching in horror as Eddie has him pinned, delivering blow after blow to his face. You only see a portion of Eddie, his dark jeans and leather jacket as he hunches over his victim and blindingly delivers one punch after the other. Daniel has stopped fighting back, just a limp set of limbs as it jumps from each hit.

When Eddie has shown no signs of letting up you’re forced to jump into action, stumbling as you run into his line of eyesight. “Eddie, stop! You’re going to kill him!” You plead.

The sounds of brutal fists on soft flesh die immediately, Eddie huffing as he rises to his feet. “You okay?”

You blink as his hands frame your cheeks, petting them softly with his hands. A tear falls, splashing his hand. His concern is comforting, but the direct juxtaposition of his concern from the silence he’s fed you the last few weeks washes over you, confusing every emotion that has been hurting.

Despite the sweet shine in his eyes as they watch you, you back from his hold in a jerk reaction. “Didn’t know you still cared about me.”

He wears the hurt from this statement on his sleeve. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You wander back over to the fridge, grabbing a beer from the second six pack you’re working through. You pop it open from the mounted bottle opener, taking a handful of sips. “You’re kidding me, right? You haven’t called me in weeks. Weeks.”

He stands there, blankly watching.

“I might be more forgiving if it weren’t for Dustin and Gareth and hell, Steve also saying the same thing. None of them have heard from you. You went from calling at least once a week to radio silence! I wanted to get along with Chrissy. I really did. I started all the conversations, offering snacks, asking questions about her, letting her set her boundaries, but she had something to say about everything we did together!”

Eddie stutters, blinking as he watches you talk. He doesn’t try to talk, doesn’t try to defend himself. You don’t give him the chance.

“She clearly doesn’t respect you, otherwise you would still be my best friend and I would remember the last time we had a normal fucking conversation. I get wanting boundaries, but at this point, I don’t think she even wants you to have friends! Is that what you want? A girl who makes you make yourself smaller for her sake and isolate completely? Really? Because that’s what you have. No horror movies? No more junk food? No heavy metal music? She’s making you shrink yourself so she deems you desirable! Fucking– I can’t watch it anymore.”

“Wait, what do you mean–” he’s interrupted by the door closing, a yelp filling the room as Chrissy runs to him.

“What happened to your fists?” You glance down to them, seeing bruises lining his knuckles.

“Nothing, it’s fine. I’m fine,” he assures her, putting his hands on her shoulders.

“Alright. Well. I meant exactly what I said. I can’t do this one sided friendship thing with you anymore,” you take another swig, wondering how the bottle was already so light. “I can’t. Call me when you find my best friend, because I haven’t seen him in three months.”

You leave the room, ignoring the calls from his mouth that suffocate you. As you stumble into the living room, you catch Steve’s eye right away, chin trembling. The hot tears that trail down your face have already drenched your cheeks by the time you realize it’s even happening, choking on the emotion that drowns you.

Steve guides you into the guest bathroom, closing the door as he watches you attempt to stop the sobs long enough to tell him what happened.

“I think–” you hiccup, sniffling loudly, “I think I just lost my best friend–” tears rattle through you once again, just saying it out loud feels like lightning in its startling ability to shatter you once more.

By the time the sobs diminish again, you’re sat on the floor by the tub, head sitting in his lap as he pets your hair. You sit up suddenly, mid hiccup as you give Steve an odd look.

He almost asks if you’re okay when you spill over his lap, whimpering between gasps as you know what you’re doing, the toilet only a foot away, but it continues to explode from your stomach.

“I’m so sorry,” you explain, tears falling again, as he sits in shock.

He grins sadly, undoing his belt. “It’s fine, sweetheart.”

He finds someone, Robin, to grab him a second pair of pants, ditching the ruined pair in the bathtub.

The dry heaving seems to stop the tears, now staring blankly with a wet face and lashes that stick together. Steve brings you upstairs, wrapping his arm around your waist as he brings you to his bedroom.

As your head hits his pillow your eyes fall closed, mumbling something about fucking up, about three months ago.

Steve locks his door from any stragglers, walking down each step to find a particular metal head to give him a piece of his mind.

From how your sobs shook your body, he might give him the whole thing.

The light cascading through the blinds hurts, like a dagger through your brain as you take in your surroundings. You don’t know how you got into Steve’s room under his blanket.

As soon as you sit up, the pain stabs you, pushing you back down. Ow. You don’t even attempt to get up again until the urge to pee hits you, when it’s too much to ignore. You rub your eye, tip toeing to try to get back under the dark blue comforter decorating Steve’s bed.

On the corner of the bed Steve sits, one foot resting on the other knee as he holds a jade green drink. “How badly does your head hurt?”

You wince at the volume of his voice, placing your hands over your eyes. “Not great.”

He winces sympathetically, offering the smoothie. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

Blurry images flash through your mind, the kitchen, Daniel, half of the second case gone. You attempt to remember past that point but it comes up blank. “I remember running into Daniel.”

As you sip on the surprisingly delicious hangover smoothie, Steve watches you, wearing a clear expression of concern.

“Anything after that?”

You can tell he’s egging you on, digging for something with an unprecedented seriousness in his tone. But there’s no memory after that. You gingerly shake your head, which sends more needles of pain through your skull.

“Why?” You ask weakly. Steve pauses, ruffling a hand through his hair as he releases a long sigh.

“You really don’t, huh?” Steve asks, one last attempt. “Maybe it’s good you drank as much as you did, then.”

“Steve, you’re scaring me.” Images of worst case scenarios course through your mind. What did you do?

Steve pats the spot on the bed next to you, double checking you don’t feel the urge to throw up. You don’t.

“Daniel tried to force himself on you.” He’s gentle, compassionate in his admission as he watches your reaction.

Huh. “How far did he–” you stutter, breath hitching as you bite back the sobs that suddenly threaten to rake through your body.

“He was interrupted before he even got that far,” he comforts you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as he caresses it. “Eddie sort of bashed his face in.”

Now that you think about it, the memory of Eddie hunched over Daniel as he delivered blow after blow to his nose, his cheekbone, his eyebrow. You didn’t see the final result of Eddie’s defense, but the bruised knuckles you vaguely recall spell out how brutal the retaliation was.

Eddie.

“What–” you pause, stuttering through your breaths, “what happened after that?”

“You yelled at Eddie. Berated him. I think you even told him you didn’t want to be his friend anymore. At least, that’s what I gathered from what you told me,” he admits.

Your blood grows cold. From the weeks of silence, the jilted conversations, the slow resentment that bloomed through your stomach for him. The ache already hurt just from the absence of your best friend, but it was good for you. Fuck, this hurt.

“Is that all?”

He laughs, pulling your head into his neck. “Just that you can’t hold back your liquor.”

That’s why your breath tastes like vomit.

From the extra strength tylenol he gives you, the rest of the morning is spent helping Steve tidy up the trash around his house. Only after spending twenty minutes in the kitchen on his hands and knees scrubbing up the red stains does he allow you to help him. You only catch a glimpse of the paper towel soaked in dried blood and bleach when throwing out red solo cups, a small hint of the mess Eddie made of Daniel.

The thought of his name is a self betrayal, and you work faster once it crosses your mind.

Once the place is clean, you allow Steve to drive you home at his insistence, repeatedly asking when he pulls up to your house that you’re sure you’re okay.

Your dad is at work, not there to ask any questions you wanted to avoid from the previous night, namely why your eyes are swollen from tears. The blinds in your room fall with a trill resembling a xylophone, blocking the sun from your intense migraine.

For the first time in weeks, you’re stirred awake from sleep from the ringing of the phone on the floor that has been pushed under the bed. You let it ring.

Just as sleep pulls you back in, you’re abruptly startled as the phone alerts you again. You roll over, ignoring it as you wrap your head in your hands, curling into the pillow. No one has to get a hold of you that badly.

This person does, it seems, as they call you again. You groan, crawling over the edge as you grab the phone from your receiver. “Hello?”

You refuse the want to chew them out, to take your emotions and friendship breakup out on the person who has interrupted your sleep.

“It’s me.”

You lurch forward in your bed, still tethered to the receiver by the tightly coiled wire as it forces the receiver to scuff against the hardwood floor. Eddie.

Eddie’s sat on his couch, limply resting his head on the couch arm as the shrill voice of the main character complains over a problem that could be solved if she had just told someone. His hand rests on his eyes, shielding himself from the light to prevent the headache he can feel coming on. He’s given up on suggesting other movies by now, but she somehow seems to only play the movies that get on every last nerve.

He would probably be more willing to watch the romcoms in question if they weren’t the bottom of the pack. Last time Eddie even suggested a romcom he actually doesn’t completely hate he had to hear about it for an agonizing twenty minutes. Fine. She could watch her movie, he can practice on his guitar, right?

You would think.

So he dissociates and focuses on the gentle petting of his calf as he rests his leg on her lap. His mind floats to his best friend, how much he misses the smell of your shampoo, or when you make fun of the cheesier horror movies he loves to watch. If Chrissy wouldn’t make a near temper tantrum every time your name is mentioned in conversation, he would’ve called you weeks ago. He missed your voice.

Chrissy continues to insist that you like him, that you’re trying to steal him from her. It turned into many fights where Eddie felt like he was losing his mind, insisting he just wanted to see his best friend. There is a stubborn, immovable force still holding hope that something will just click one day and realize just how wrong she is. There’s a little nagging part of him, eating at his brain, warning that it probably won’t ever come true.

The possibility is almost too much for him to mentally handle, because when it blows up in his face and you decide not to forgive his radio silence, he doesn’t think he will be able to handle the absence in his life. So he procrastinates the detonation.

“I’m surprised you’re not going to Steve’s party,” Chrissy chirps, interrupting Eddie’s disarray.

Eddie blinks, trying to recall any mention of a party that might’ve slipped his mind. That might’ve been the reason for his ignorance if he could remember the last time he even spoke to Steve. He’s sure Chrissy knows that.

“I didn’t even know he was having one.”

She grabs at the extra material of his jeans, pulling his attention. “Did you want to go?”

He mentally rattles through the mechanics of going to Steve’s stupidly large house, knowing damn well his distance has managed to drive you straight into the arms of someone new, even if it’s only platonic. You’ll be there, the chance much more likely than not.

He wants to see your face, even if it’s in passing. He wonders if Chrissy sees you there if she’ll decide to leave early or just avoid you altogether. But it’s just the chance that drives him to agree.

By the time he gets there, vehicles have already littered the streets surrounding his house, some even audaciously blocking his neighbor’s driveways. Chrissy’s hand is in his as he walks in, anxiously looking around the party for you.

He peers into the living room, to the couch containing members of some of Steve’s closer acquaintances and it wasn’t long until he saw you, sitting right next to Robin holding the bottleneck of a beer bottle.

Your eyes are already on his, wide and still as you stare at him. You’re even prettier than he remembered, any polaroid he’s ever had of you does absolutely no justice to your radiant smile or vibrant eyes.

Fine, you’re staring at him like you would rather be anywhere else for the moment, panic flooding your features, but it’s a breath of fresh air for him compared to his last few suffocating weeks. As you stumble to your feet, Eddie tricks himself into believing that you’ve gotten up to talk to him until you pass the front entrance straight into the kitchen.

He supposes he deserves that, fading as Chrissy tugs him to the dance floor. His hands find her hips, allowing himself to get lost in the relentlessly catchy pop tune. He can’t help but allow his eyes to float back over to the couch every now and then, something in him carnally needing making sure that you’re safe.

Alarm bells go off, goosebumps trailing over his skin as something in him screams that you’re in danger. You could very much just be avoiding him, which he wouldn’t blame you for, not for one moment, but he wouldn’t forgive himself if he found out his worry had any footing.

“Babe, I’m gonna grab a drink,” he mutters, blankly kissing her sweet scented blonde hair before his long legs take him to the kitchen.

His stomach drops as your voice fills the kitchen, asking the asshole with wandering hands to stop as he forces himself on you.

The next thing he knows, Daniel is under him, his back slammed on the floor with a face scrunched up in pain as Eddie’s fists are flying. His fists, his jeans, the floor, the whining little shit’s face, it all gets painted with blood.

Eddie doesn’t realize when the pair of arms stop trying to push him off, or when the green eyes no longer stare at him in horror, shut from the trauma of one blunt hit after the other. He just continually bashes his face in for even daring to attempt to force himself on the woman he loves.

Fuck this guy. Fuck him.

Eddie’s blind with rage, but he’s also blind with his own regret.

Your voice cuts through the anger, a warning that seeps in his brain like a sponge. If he keeps hitting him like this he will end up taking his life.

He stands up, facing your trembling form as you seem to be in shock. You melt in his hold, tears spilling over his hands as he caresses you, doing his very best to take care of you. He knows the answer when he asks, but he has to hear it from you.

Finally, the words seem to sober you from wanting his comfort to the hurt that you’ve felt from his silence. You lurch yourself from him, staggering blindly to the fridge as you grab another beer. The scent was harsh on your breath, the sight of you glugging back as much as you can sends jolts through his system.

Then you tell him everything. And he deserves it. He wants so badly to tell you how badly he wanted to call you, but the excuses sound lame even in his own mind.

When you tell him you’re done is when he finally snaps out of his own trance. He knows what you mean, but surely, you don’t really mean it? Before he can ask, Chrissy comes into the picture, doting over his bruised knuckles, ignoring you completely as she asks what happened. He’s fine. He’s not, but he’ll say anything to get back to what you were just saying.

Choked back sobs escape as you tell him with absolute finality that you are done, tripping over your own feet when you leave through the kitchen door.

No, this has gone too far. Eddie hasn’t had a single drop of alcohol but feels as if he’s wasted from stumbling after you, blocked by his girlfriend.

That conversation goes as well as can be expected.

In the hours following, he doesn’t seem to find you anywhere. But without Chrissy trailing after him, he finds himself free to converse with friends he’d missed, meeting their snide remarks of coming back to the land of the living with grace. Eddie stays for hours, half heartedly partaking in any conversation he finds himself witness to just in case you make another appearance.

Steve walks down the stairs after what feels like forever, wearing a grim look on his face. Eddie approaches him. “Hey have you seen–”

“She’s upstairs,” Steve answers, sighing. “Passed out. She’ll wake up tomorrow morning.”

“Is she okay?”

“Didn’t choke on her own vomit, at least,” Steve quips, his voice harsh. “Physically, she’s okay.”

Steve moves to walk around Eddie, seemingly done with the conversation.

“Physically?”

“Fuck,” Eddie mutters, feeling hopeless, like he should’ve been there to take care of you instead of being the cause of your suffering. “Steve, I–”

“Listen, Eddie. I just heard a bunch of shit from her that I’m not even sure she knows that she said. Other than her I guess telling you to fuck off, what else happened?”

Eddie gulps, not exactly wrapping his own mind around it, yet. “I found Daniel Moore trying to force himself on her.”

“Jesus,” Steve mutters, passing Eddie straight into the kitchen.

“Steve–” Eddie tries to stop him, or warn him at least, wondering how no one else has seen him, yet. There is almost no reason for most to make their way into the kitchen as the drinks station is in the living room, but usually a straggler or two, especially couples would make their own way in. He’s definitely not up and partying from the blood that seeped through the shirt he was wearing…

Should Eddie have called the ambulance?

“What the fuck–” Steve barks, taking in the crumpled form before him. “Jesus, Eddie, what happened?”

“You listen to your best friend beg someone to stop assaulting them and not beat the shit out of him?” Eddie retaliates, watching as Steve double checks to make sure he’s still breathing.

“Well, now I gotta get him out of here before someone has you fucking arrested,” Steve mutters, wracking his brain through old morally questionable friends of his that would help with no questions asked. Fuck. He has a few favors to call in. “Where’s Chrissy gone?”

“How the fuck should I know?” Eddie spits.

“Considering she has control over who you’re allowed to spend time with, probably somewhere nearby with binoculars,” Steve mutters, a fragment of seriousness in the joke.

“Well, not anymore,” Eddie shrugs, feeling surprisingly pragmatic about it.

“Oh.” Took you long enough, Steve thinks. “I’m gonna get him out of here, but I suggest you do the same.”

“Can I stay? I wanna be here when she wakes up.” His eyes pleading to Steve.

Steve’s brows raise. “Respectfully Eddie, I don’t think she really wants to see you.”

“I haven’t been able to tell her anything for weeks, I’m staying!” he insists, crossing his arms like a petulant child.

Steve shakes his head, leaning on the counter. God, he wished he hadn’t invited a few dozen people to come to his house for the night. “God, you’re an idiot.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re an idiot. You’re both idiots, but, man I think you’re the bigger one.” Steve walks around the kitchen island, getting unreasonably close to him. “I don’t know if you’re blind, or just selectively ignorant. She loves you, dude! She was willing to support you getting a girlfriend, but then you just shut her out. It’s gonna take more than an apology to be back in her good graces. When she wakes up with a killer hangover, I think the last person she’ll want to see is you. God, if one of you just made the jump years ago this never would’ve happened!”

Eddie’s heart drops at Steve’s angry words, refusing to believe any of his feelings for his best friend are reciprocated. “Sure, because three months of friendship tell you everything you need to know about a person.”

Steve chuckles, walking over the snoring asshole as he steps out to the living room. “I would have to be blind not to see it. She talked about you one time about this stupid fucking movie she watched with you and I could tell. Rather than telling your girlfriend that you have a best friend and she has to get over it, you shut her out. For weeks. And left someone else to pick up the pieces.”

“Steve, I know. I know I was being an ass–”

“Then why didn’t you stop? Why didn’t you give her a call? You had to know she wasn’t going to forgive you so easily–”

“Of course I fucking knew that, Steve! Why do you think I put off letting it explode in my face?”

“Because you’re an idiot! She loved you. She loves you! If you can’t see that then I really don’t know what to tell you. Listen, if you call her tomorrow, I’m not all that sure what would happen. It’s gonna be a while before she’s ready to forgive, bud. For now. Maybe you should go.”

“Oh,” you sigh, hugging your knees into your chest, feeling small. A war rages in your mind. You were hurt enough by him to break your friendship off with him, but you don’t even remember it. The other side of you just wants to be close to him again, willing to sink into the apologies that he owes you and happily accept them.

But you shouldn’t. And you know you shouldn’t.

“Do you wanna come over for a movie?”

You want to come over and watch a movie so badly, it wraps around you and constricts your airflow. “Will she be there?”

“No. Just me and you. I promise,” Eddie swears, voice low enough that it resembles a whisper. “She won’t be, uh, crashing our movie nights anymore.”

You diminish the pulse of hope that threatens to bloom. “What do you mean?”

Eddie sighs. “I was hoping to tell you in person, but we broke up last night…come over, I’ll tell you more. I just need my best friend…and a horror movie…and junk food, god, I miss junk food.”

You miss him so much it hurts. “I’ll be there in an hour.”

The bike ride sends pulses through your head, worsening the ache of the hangover. If the pain isn’t gone by tomorrow, you might just ask someone to shoot an arrow through your head to put you out of your misery.

It’s been more than long enough since the last time you were on his front door step, nervous as you hesitate to knock. Eddie’s footsteps are rapid and loud as soon as your knuckles hit the door, the opening to him, wide eyes, graphic t-shirt and pair of sweatpants. He appears unlike himself, almost tired. You wonder if you noticed it last night.

Before either one of you says a word, he tugs you in, wrapping his arms around you in an embrace in his scent. Overwhelming emotion takes over, his shirt absorbing the tears that fall. He feels like home, every part of him. His scent, the muscles flexing under your grasp, his steady breaths.

“I missed you,” he mutters, his voice low, choked, even.

Then why didn’t you call me? “Me too–” you whimper, squeezing onto him even tighter. You sniffle, curling your head into his neck.

The hug lasts forever, or at least long enough for your arms to become numb.

Your butt lands on the couch, the spot that was once permanently marked by you now weirdly lumpy from the lack of use. Did Chrissy know she was allowed to sit in her own seat on the odd occasion? On the coffee table, Eddie has already prepared the popcorn and your favorite snacks, only your favorite snacks. Three movies are laid out, all awaiting their turn in the VCR.

“What’s this?” You ask, rubbing your nose from the snot.

“Uh, three movies. Pick one.”

You read the titles, Back to the Future, Friday the 13th, and Labyrinth. “What happened to wanting to watch horror movies?”

“I have a lot of sucking up to do before I get to be picky with our movie night,” Eddie answers, his voice gentle and careful. “Pick one.”

If he says so, then you’ll have to pick your favorite, rather than his favorite. “Alright, then, Labyrinth it is. David Bowie in leather pants, here I come!”

As the movie plays, a teenage girl desperate to find her brother, you sink into the comfort of the ratty old couch. Through Eddie, you found out that the rattiest couches are actually the most comfy. The more tears and rips, the better. Eddie stands up, running to the kitchen to grab fresh cans of soda from the fridge.

He sits back down, handing you a Diet Coke while popping open his own. Two things you notice when he sits. One, he’s remarkably close, his ass nearly planted in between the cushions. Two–

“Since when did you start drinking diet coke?” You ask him, wincing at the aftertaste.

“Since Chrissy was such a stickler for sugar,” he answers casually, grabbing a bite of the popcorn.

His simple tone, emotionless and understated, squeezes your heart. “What happened with her, anyway?”

Chrissy blocked him, staring at him with wide eyes as she held his shoulders. “What–what is going on?”

“I need a minute,” he stuttered, attempting to walk around her.

“Did you do that?” Chrissy asked, pointing to the lifeless piece of shit on the floor.

“Chris, it’s really not a good time, right now. I will tell you later, I promise. I’ll be right back.” Eddie promised.

She blocked him again, hands pushing on his broad shoulders. “You’re not seriously thinking of going after her, are you?”

“Chrissy, she’s my best friend! That creep just tried– I have to go check up on her, make sure she’s okay!”

“You mean the girl who is pathetically in love with you?” Chrissy asked, belligerent and full of sass. “Sure, go and give her more false hope! She was practically all over you at the diner, mooning over you, desperate to take you out on a date, I mean, don’t give her fucking hope!”

Eddie sighed, rubbing his face angrily. “I don’t know how many times I need to fucking tell you, Chris. She is just my friend. She was being nice, trying to include you. I’m so fucking tired of this conversation!”

“So am I!” Chrissy crossed her arms, popping her hip out. It was times like these Eddie was absolutely sure of why Chrissy and Jason dated for so long. “You know what? Fine. Me or her.”

“What?” Eddie was unsure if she was being serious.

“Pick! Me or her? Because when you pick me maybe then she’ll get the fucking hint!”

It was the easiest decision he’s ever made in his life. “Her.”

Eddie finishes explaining it, mostly nixxing the parts where she berated you or talked shit. You just needed to know the part where she practically had a temper tantrum.

“Wow,” you mutter, remembering how you called Chrissy sweet when they first started dating. “And…you, you picked me?”

“Of course I did.” Eddie pops a kernel into his mouth, leaning back into the couch. His body heat is warm, his scent intoxicating. “You’re my best friend.”

“You haven’t called in weeks, Eddie.” It comes out quietly, the hurt overflowing in your body and pouring out your mouth. “I thought you had a new best girl.”

Eddie sighs, grabbing your hand. “If I could take back the last three months, I would. I-I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

“I missed you so fucking badly,” you admit, focusing on how your hand feels intertwined with his.

“I missed you. I know– I fucked up, but believe me when I say, I missed you so fucking much.”

On one hand, it’s hard to believe him. It seemed like it was so easy for him to cut you off. On the other, the glint in his eyes, his thumb caressing the back of your hand, gentle and unequivocally vulnerable.

Eddie leans forward, connecting his forehead to yours. “I will make it up to you, I promise.”

“You have a lot of making up to do, mister,” you inform him, pulling away from him to lightly nudge his hair.

“And a million strawberry mountains covered in strawberry sauce,” he answers, kissing your forehead softly.

“You really had me worried,” you admit, taking a good look at his face. “I believe you when you say that you missed me, but Eds, you hurt me. I want to trust you, but–”

His movement is swift as he grabs your face with his hands, pulling you in close. “I know, baby, I know.” The pet name takes your breath away, music to your unsuspecting ears. The name wraps itself around your like a warm hug, melting all those months of worry and panic away. “I’m so fucking sorry, if I could just–”

Maybe it wasn’t the right timing, months of silence, unanswered questions, hurt, but all that just conveniently disappears the moment his lips touch yours. You startle, jerking backwards as you look at him curiously, looking for something that’ll tell you he’s not kissing you out of pity, or obligation.

You’re met with the exact way that he always looks at you, but this time, it’s radiant. How did you miss it this whole time? You smile, wrapping your hand behind his neck as you tug him in, entangling his lips with yours and chasing that emotion that ran through you the first time.

Eddie meets your kiss with enthusiasm, grinning madly as he pulls you in closer, your body flush against his as he pulls you down with him.

It’s maddeningly enchanting, the way you can taste his minty breath and his hums against your lips, buzzing and tickling. His tongue sweeps along your bottom lip, pulling a gasp as you happily meet his with yours. Your skin feels electric as his hand sneaks under your shirt, as if he’s just getting the feel of you.

You sigh, curling your arm around his neck to pull him impossibly closer. His kisses trail along your jawline, down your neck, pressing sweet kisses down your jugular. “You taste like strawberries,” he mutters, audibly smiling. “I should’ve known, all those damn strawberries you eat.”

“Before we go any further,” you gasp, clutching at his t-shirt, “and believe me, I want to, you owe me a proper date.”

“Taking you out for a date, baby?” He places more rapid kisses on your neck, letting himself absorb your laughter. “God, I’m lucky.”

You’ve learned one thing for absolute certainty, Eddie Munson knows how to grovel. Between the many kisses you’ve shared that night you tell Eddie with surety that just because he knows how to kiss doesn’t mean he’s suddenly forgiven. Eddie relishes in that, grinning just because you’re kissing him.

The previous night he was losing his mind at his ex-girlfriend’s terrible movie choices, and you, his best friend, the person who has always known him best, you’re finally here kissing him. You could ask him to write a 1000-page apology letter entirely in rhymes or haikus and he would do it heartbeat, but all he’s required to do is prove it?

He’s more than willing.

When the date is proposed, he swears he would love to take you anywhere. He provides a list, with all of the restaurants you know he can’t afford. When you ask him and inquire about such, he shrugs casually. There’s a silent question there, wondering if Chrissy had even considered his wallet size before their date nights.

Instead, you answer with, “Our first date should be the diner, no?”

You’ve never been so nervous before, looking through your small arsenal of date night dresses. He’s seen all of them, whether from a school dance or the aftermath of a date gone sour. One dress catches your attention, at the very back of your closet covered in plastic, just waiting for the right time.

White, with blue flowers hand embroidered on the bodice, a sweetheart neckline and bubble gum pink ribbons tied together as the straps. Periwinkle blue that bleeds into mint green leaves along the hemline, fanned out into a hoopskirt. You’ve stared at this dress when it sat in your mom’s closet, asking when it might be your turn to finally wear it.

The dress fits you like a glove, looking remarkably close to the photo on the easel downstairs, a first date 25 years ago that ended up being one of your favorite bedtime stories.

As you finally make your way down the stairs, hair half up in curls in a ribbon matching the ones on the dress, your dad looks at you with pride and glossy eyes. Whispered words of the resemblance as he hugs you, eyes too tired for a man in his forties from loss and stress, a whiff of gratitude hits you.

It’s a warm spring evening, no need for a coat as the van pulls up with the usual melodies of heavy metal and drumming. You make your way down the sidewalk to his passenger side, butterflies erupting as you open the door.

The volume is turned down to a background noise, the heavy metal feeling oddly out of place at such a low volume. “Hi, sunshine.”

You grab his hand, petting at his calloused skin. “Hi.”

You feel his eyes on you, taking in the dress that is on its first night out in decades. “I don’t know how you show up looking this good and expect me to act normal.”

You grin, pressing a kiss to his shoulder and sniffing at the leather. He can’t say shit like that and expect you to go on like normal. “C’mon. I haven’t had a strawberry milkshake in ages.”

You open the window just a crack, appreciating the scent of fresh grass in the spring. New beginnings, fresh starts, rebirth. It seems oddly poetic.

He pulls up to the diner, bright neon lights against an evening sunset. It looks as if it’s painted, yellow into orange into blue. A lonely diner isolated sitting against a watercolor sky, but one of your favorite places in the world.

The bell ringing feels like an old song you haven’t heard in years, bringing some bittersweet nostalgia.

Martha perks up, the diner even deader than normal with only a lone man sitting on a bar chair holding a milkshake like a beer. The comparison sends a gag reflex through your body, never wanting to even smell another beer in your lifetime. As you sit next to Eddie, in such close proximity that the other side of the booth is useless, Martha appears with a cheeky smile on her face.

“If you two aren’t on a date, I’ll eat my notebook,” she sighs, hands on her hips as if she’s chastising two kids.

You and Eddie glance to one another, debating on fucking with her. It’s all the approval she needs.

“Finally! If you came in my diner again with those puppy dog eyes of yours I would’ve about had it with you two. Now, are you getting your regulars again?”

Eddie’s arm curls around your shoulders, his thumb petting the bare skin of your shoulder. “I’m disappointed you haven’t already brought the milkshake, Martha.”

“Smartasses. The both of you!” She walks off, a brand new pep in her step.

His thumb turns under your chin, pulling your face towards his. “C’mere. I need to make up for the times I just wanted to kiss those pretty lips in this booth of ours.”

“Why didn’t you?” You ask him, breathless as you stare at his eyes.

“I didn’t think the prettiest girl I know would want to kiss a goofball like me,” he chuckles, self deprecating and vulnerable.

You shake your head sadly, sighing happily. “You are so wrong.”

His chuckles are interrupted by your kiss, clutching onto the cotton t-shirt clinging onto his chest. It’s like you to forget how to breathe, taking the moment to take a deep breath before kissing him deeper, harder.

Your tongues meet, wrapping together with his and leaning forward to be as close to him as possible. His hand lands on your thigh, petting it roughly as he teases you. You hated yourself, hated how you told him you wanted to wait, because it’s becoming too much. The need for him sits deep in your stomach and begs you for any resolve from his teasing hands.

His kisses keep you only so satiated, whimpering by the time your make out sessions are done and ready to beg him to touch you already.

The glass of pinky sweetness hits the table, interrupting his electric lips on yours. “If you two do it, at least have the decency to take it to the bathroom like every other patron.”

You yelp, avoiding Martha’s eyes as Eddie tugs you in against his chest, kissing your temple. “Yes ma’am,” Eddie obeys, saluting with two fingers. Two, very distracting fingers.

You take a sip, humming. After weeks, you will proudly proclaim that this is still the best milkshake in town.

Eddie kisses your cheek, pulling you even closer. “If you lick that whipped cream off your finger, so help me god.”

It’s a habit of yours, one you’ve done at least once a visit just to get a taste of it before it sinks into the milkshake. The numerous times you’ve done it sinks in, unknowingly teasing him. “Something wrong with tasting whipped cream, Eds?”

“When you do it with that tongue of yours, yes,” he mutters, nipping on your jawline.

“Why don’t you have a taste,” you hum, taking a scoop with your pinky, licking it up.

Eddie pulls you in, humming as his tongue reaches out for yours to grab a taste of the cream melting fast in your mouth. He pulls back all too soon, eyes fluttering shut as he tuts his tongue. “Mmm. Yum. Thanks, baby.”

The milkshake is nearly gone by the time Martha rolls around again, pancakes and waffles in hand, interrupting soft conversation and sweet nothings.

He finally tries a taste of your pancakes, eating from the fork you offer him. His face winces, screwing up as he chews on it. “That strawberry sauce is sweet, ain’t it?”

“A little sour, I guess, but it’s my favorite. The fresh strawberries are a nice little addition.” You tell him, cutting up the pancakes.

“I’ll stick to my sprinkles,” Eddie mutters, dipping a piece of the big fluffy waffle in the whip. “They are the best.”

“I have a question,” you mutter, relishing in the taste of the sweet strawberry sauce. “How-how long have you liked me? Was it more recent, or have you liked me for years?”

Eddie smirks, placing a stand of hair over your shoulder. “Years.” He chokes back the correction of the word like, cause it’s so much more. “The first time I saw you, you were giving one of the football dicks hell for picking on one of the scrawny little freshmen. And I mean, berating him. You’re shy, baby, but not when it comes to others.” He pauses, chewing thoughtfully. “I knew from that moment.”

Oh. It was a handful of months before you found yourself sitting by the hellfire table, shaking your head at their antics. Plus, Gareth was just plain wrong in his opinion, you shook your head disapprovingly as you dug your nose in the book. Eddie caught on to it, demanding you join their group and inform him of how wrong he was. You did. You didn’t realize how charming Eddie was, how welcoming and genuinely kind.

It took your breath away, especially how gorgeous he was. The crush was kindled from then on, only being nurtured as you continued to debate him and his friends on their nerd culture.

Eddie followed up with the same question, asking how long ago for you, too. You tell him that very story, of how he enamored you just from being around him.

“You know, by then I was already head over heels for you,” he admits casually, sipping the last of the milkshake. “Something about sticking it to the man just does that to a guy.”

“Those dimples of yours are a weapon.” You admit in kind, and he laughs. You drop your jaw incredulously. “They’re a weapon! You think your hands are the only things those girls call magic?”

Eddie leans in, hot breath on your ear sending ripples down your neck. “And have you thought about these magic hands of mine, sweetheart?”

You gulp, licking your lips as your heart races in your chest. “Maybe...” You say softly.

He hums, tentatively kissing your skin. He really shouldn’t be doing this in a public space, you think, attempting not to wiggle at the uncomfortable feeling of arousal pooling in your panties. “I can’t wait to show you just how magic they are.”

You hold back a whimper, choking on it as your eyes flutter shut at his tentative kisses.

“Let’s get out of here, shall we?” You nod, watching as he places the right amount of bills with a decent tip for Martha.

On your way out the door, Martha shouts her goodbyes, happily yelling out her congratulations as the glass door slams behind you. Eddie’s lips find a home on the back of your hand, holding it as he kisses loudly, tickling the skin.

The trailer sits alone in the park, all lights off as he pulls up. With the turn of a key, his arm wraps around your waist as you walk in sync. It’s familiar as you help him turn on the lights, domestic, even. His jacket is off, tossed on the couch as he tugs you by the hand towards his room.

You’ve thought about it so many times, whisking away into his room with him to devour him completely. Usually it occurs when you’re mad stoned, happy and horny, but too blizted to make a move.

Your hands curtain the back of his neck, thumbs petting the nape of his neck and tangling themselves in his curls, rubbing in small circles. His lips connect to yours, stumbling over dirty laundry as he guides you to his bed. “Hmm, strawberries.”

He yelps as lands on his back, laughing as you collide with an oof. The playful moment is quickly replaced with intensity, staring down into his brown eyes, darkened by desire. Across the years of being his friend, he’s darkened his eyes in many moments, right before he decides to pin you down and tickle you senseless or when you talk down on yourself.

There were moments when his intense gaze took you aback, mostly when you innocently used too much enthusiasm in eating ice cream or put your hair up in a ponytail.

Or when you wore a sundress that sat a bit too high on your thigh.

All these moments suddenly make sense, filling you with a gust of emotion as you grab at him, tugging him harshly for a kiss much more powerful than you knew you had in you. He gasps into it, deep and desperate against your lips as you pull him closer. One of his hands travels downward, hiking under your skirt and grabbing at your thigh, your knee pulled up against his stomach.

Eddie turns you over on your back, hands grabbing at the skin harshly, his rings pressing at your skin hard enough to create an indent. Your leg wrapped around his waist tugs him down, his chest landing on yours.

“Question, my love,” Eddie mutters, words intertwined with his kisses. “Why the hell haven’t I seen this dress until now, it’s…oh my god.”

You grin against his lips, pushing your hands past his cotton shirt. “Waiting for a special occasion.”

“You telling me I could’ve seen this ages ago, baby?” He gasps, wrapping your tongue against his, delicate but enough to make you mewl into his mouth.

“Probably.”

He nips your lip, a punishment for your cheekiness. “It’ll look better on the floor.”

Your hips grind up, meeting the bulge in his pants just right. “You can’t say stuff like that–” you gasp, arms wrapping around his neck to hold on to him pathetically.

“You have no idea the things I’ve wanted to say to you.” His hand travels further up, passing the waistline of your panties and spreading on the skin of your tummy. “All the things I’ve held back…”

The admission is thrilling and terrifying, giving you almost everything you’ve ever wanted.

Now if you could get that bike you wanted for Christmas when you were twelve…

“Can you tell me now?” you ask, smiling up at his pretty, bewildered face.

“Hmm, patience,” he tuts, using his hand to explore. “Right now I just really want to touch your pussy, please, baby, please.”

It’s your turn for bewilderment. He’s acting like touching you is this great honor, instead of a means to an end like anyone else you’ve slept with. “Uh, yeah, I want that. I really, really want that.”

Eddie sighs, using his traveling hand and dipping it under the waistband of your panties. As his best friend, you’ve gotten so comfortable around him, arguably too much. Late nights in his room with a t-shirt and panties as his room fills with smoke. Eddie is only human, appreciating them too much as as you sat cross legged with the strip just a tad too thin for what it was supposed to cover.

This particular pair is decorated in lace up the front, a sheer lace for the bum, a light blue to match the flowers. His fingers latch to your pussy, delicately moving them up and down the folds.

“Oh my god,” he sighs, playing with the slick and spreading it. “You’re so wet, all this…all this for me?”

He adds more pressure, rubbing small circles and watching you throw your head back and melt in the heat that spreads across your thighs and takes form in a tremble, in a shake. “F-feels good.”

“Yeah?” he asks, placing his thumb on your clit and rotating it in tiny circles. “You like the way I play with your pussy, baby?”

You frantically nod, grinding up against him. “Need..need more. Please? More?”

“What does more mean?” He leans in, decorating your neck with sucks and bites and licks. “You want me to lick it, baby? You need my fingers, you already beggin’ for my cock? C’mon my girl, use your words.”

You might just beg for his cock, but you don’t want it to be over so quickly. “Want–want your fingers, Eds.”

He giggles, planting a nice wet kiss on your lips. “That’s my girl.” He doesn’t wait a second, curling one finger past your entrance and pumping it slowly, building a slow momentum that pulls at your stomach. He sighs, husky and deep, “Fuck, it’s so tight.”

He removes his finger without warning, not commenting on the moan in disappointment that escapes your mouth. He sits up, grabbing at the waistline as he tugs them down your legs, slowly, carefully, savoring in the moment. He lifts up the skirt, exposing the landing strip that sits waiting for his eyes.

“Did you decorate your pussy just for me? It looks so pretty… Thank you, baby girl,” Eddie is borderline emotional in his gratitude, showering you with praises.

Your legs attempt to close back together in embarrassment from his intense stare. He notices it, pushing your legs back down. “Do me a favor, won’t you? Keep these legs open while I eat your pussy.”

You drench your thighs, turned on even from the mere idea of being with him. “Mmkay.”

“You–” he gasps, delicately licking at the mound. “You taste so good. Wanted to bury my face in this little cunt for so long.”

His hands lift your thighs up and over his shoulder. His mouth tells you he knows exactly what he’s doing, listening to the cues you give him through your quivers and whines. The dress is completely covering his face, hiding the man that is eating you out, slowly and carefully, as if wanting to taste every drop of arousal you feed him.

Before long, your legs start shaking in his hold from the pleasure that has your hands tangled in your hair, eyes squeezed tight as he pulls whine after whine from you. One finger slides right back in, facing no resistance, sucking on your clit simultaneously. That arches your back and curls your toes, gasping from his build up, his words, god just from the years of mental torture.

You cum against his lips without warning, for him or yourself, twitching around his fingers and crying out his name.

He coaxes you through it, kissing your pretty pussy lips gently until your legs stop convulsing. Sweat beads on your forehead, spreading on your back and neck and making the thick fabric of the dress too hot. You untie each ribbon, desperately grabbing at the neckline to pull it up and off.

He kisses up your torso, laughing as you get stuck with the dress half off. One heel digs in his back in retaliation, whining as you gesture to him to help you. “I’m sorry, you’re just so cute.” Eddie giggles.

You whine, kicking your legs for him to hurry up. Your hair is stuck in your dress. It lifts over your head, a light bra covering your tits acting as a tease for him. The dress lands on the floor, nice and splayed out as it’s done its purpose.

You roll your eyes, tugging him in for a desperate kiss by the neck, wandering hands moving south to tug at his t-shirt. “Wanna see you, too,” you confess, helping him rid of his shirt. “Show me those tattoos.”

“You like the tatties?” You nod enthusiastically although you know he’s just teasing you. “Oh, I bet ya do. Probably ogled them while I wasn’t lookin’ huh?”

With a chest like his, you don’t imagine he could blame you. You let your eyes speak for you, raking over his covered chest and openly staring. “Wanna suck your cock.” You look up at him with big doe eyes, silently begging.

Eddie’s eyes widen at your admission, groaning as you start to undo his jeans. “Fuck, I don’t know if I’ll last that long…I need to be buried in you, wanna feel that pussy around my cock.”

You gulp, wrapping your legs around his torso so his jeans meet your pussy, probably drenching a wet spot on the front. “Me too…but I remember you said you didn’t really get reciprocated very much.” You inhale, gathering courage. “I remember thinking how I’d love to spend hours with your cock down my throat.”

Eddie keels over you, curling his face in your neck as he whimpers. “You were holding that back from me?” He punches the mattress right next to your head, a mild temper tantrum. “What other depraved thoughts have you been hiding from me?”

“You want me to tell you, or show you?” You’re not sure where this surge of confidence is coming from, but you’re running with it, especially if it means you can hear him make that sound again.

“Sh-show me- want you to show–” he nods, whimpering into your neck and shuddering.

“Mmkay,” you muse, smirking at just how easily the shoe falls on the other foot. “Get on your back.”

He complies promptly, wrapping his arm around the small of your back and turning the two of you over. You straddle him, grabbing at his chest carefully as you plant kisses all the way down his lean torso. You bring teeth into the mix, sucking and biting and marking your territory.

You’ve been itching to do so since he showed up one morning with bruises decorating his neck, claiming his hookup got a little too eager.

I'll show you eager, you begrudgingly think, wishing that all the boys were teasing him from bruises you gave him, instead. God, there was one planted on his collarbone that was excessively large, annoyingly so.

You mark your way down his chest, his stomach, lapping greedily at his treasure trail as he whimpers at your enthusiasm. This is power, you think to yourself, wondering what other noises you could conjure from him. As your mouth moves, so do your hands, undoing his belt slowly, taking your time as you unzip his fly.

The evidence of his arousal is strikingly clear, his boxers bulging out of the open fly and begging for your attention. While your subtle glances downward gave you an inkling of his size, his hardened cock presenting itself to you, even disguised in its plaid wrapping, had you letting out a gasp in unbridled lust.

You wrap your hand around it, gleaming as he hisses, a hushed swear passing through his lips. You watch his face, observing him as you place your lips on the covered shaft, just letting him feel the heat of your breath on it. “Oh, fuck–” Eddie chokes, letting out harsh shudders.

The sight of his face is borderline angelic, all of his walls down as he focuses on you. You can’t help but smile at that, at how you desperately wished for nights like these, only paying attention to one another. You poke your tongue out, drenching the cotton fabric with your spit, working your way down the length.

At his little whines, you finally curl his fingers under his waistband, drooling at the taut cock that pops out, giving you a friendly hello, swaying from the spring. You smile ear to ear, delicately wrapping your hand around the base.

You kiss the tip, lapping at the pearl of precum that gives the clear indication of his arousal, as if his hard on wasn’t enough. “Mmm,” you hum at the salty taste, leaning in to suck every last drop from his flushed tip.

You let the saliva that has pooled on the surface of your tongue drool onto his cock, spreading it down the shaft, absorbing the moan he rewards you with. “Shit, that feels–oh my god.”

You smile with pride, finally taking him into your mouth, enthusiastically bobbing up and down on his length. Your eyes remain on his, watching him as his face melts, committing it to memory.

“Oh, Jesus,” he swears, hips rutting up, clawing further into your mouth. You take him in further, gagging on it as you wrap your tongue around it experimentally, choking loudly and purposely. “Ch-choke on it, yeah, ch-ohmy god, just like that–”

Your hand moves in rhythm with your mouth, slobbery sounds of spit on flesh, his and yours, deliciously wet. He tenses up beneath you, whines growing more desperate, moans huskier, deeper. It’s a marvelous melody, one no composer could make even if they tried their hardest.

“St-st-stop,” he stutters, curling over himself, writhing under you. “Stop–I-I’m gonna cum.”

Reluctantly you listen, lifting your head off him with a pop and cheekily smiling at his heaving chest. You crawl upward, yelping as he wraps his arm around the small of your back and tugs you in for a kiss, more powerful, wrapped in an unnamed emotion you couldn’t possibly let yourself be delusional enough to define as. The one hand crawled up your back undoes the clasp of your bra, tugging it off your arms and flinging it across the room.

“Gimme those tits,” Eddie sighs, kneading them in his hands and toying with the flesh and nips. “Oh, they’re so pretty, baby. I love them, I‘ve wanted to play with them for so long.”

Eddie’s legs move under you, kicking off his jeans while holding you close to his chest. You sit up, tugging him up with you as you hover just over him.

His skin directly on yours, close and toe curling as you straddle his lap, arms wrapped around his neck as you stare into his eyes. There’s a glow in them, eyebrows relaxed as he holds your hips, staring up at you with such enamour. “Want your cock,” it’s only a whisper, but loud in the intimacy between you two. “I want you.”

His brows furrow, only a moment. The thought passes through him quick as a flash, but you see it.

“What was that?”

He smiles, relieved and tender. “I’ve wanted you for so long.” He leans in, pressing kisses on your clavicle, your neck, your shoulder, the swell of your breast. “Not-not just like this. I mean, fuck, I wanted it, so, so bad. But…I’ve wanted you, wanted your late nights and early mornings, to help you when you need to study, wash the dishes…sorry, I’m rambling.”

You pet his cheek, shaking your head. “No. Keep going.”

“I mean, we’ve always sort of had that, you know? It was just torture, not kissing you stupid whenever I wanted…because I wanted to. I wanted to, so much, baby. I love you. So much. You’re my best friend, my person, and I just love you so fucking much.”

A breath of a laugh passes through your lips, attempting to absorb what he had just told you. “Really?”

You smile, holding him tightly as you kiss him, sighing happily as he confirms, nodding frantically. The head brushes against your entrance, pulling a whine from you. “Eds, I-I love you, too.” The kisses get more fierce, Eddie clinging onto you harder and nearly attacking your lips. “But…if you don’t fuck me soon I might actually lose my mind,” You giggle.

He laughs, combing his fingers through your hair, away from your face, from the sweat. He slaps his cock against your clit, teasing you with his head. “Of course, baby, you wanna ride me, hmm? Hop up and down on my big fat cock?”

You nod, biting your bottom lip, hissing when he pushes his head in, watching as your jaw drops. “Oh, look at you, I knew you could take it like a good girl.”

You choke back a whine, swallowing hard as his words have such a strong effect on you. ‘Fuck, f-feels so good.” You stop, mewling as the burn of his girth becomes too much.

“Don’t rush yourself, baby, it’s okay.” He puts his hands on your hips, digging into the soft flesh. “So nice and tight, fuck.” His eyes practically roll to the back of his head.

You sink further, taking him deeper as the burn bleeds into bliss and back to burning again. “Jesus, s’good.”

“Mm, almost there, baby.”

“Move, please. Eds. Need-need you to move.”

Eddie chuckles, large hands holding your back. He lifts his hips, slowly filling you to the hilt and bringing it back out, one hand landing by his side to use it for leverage. You chirp out his name, mewling as he slowly rocks his hips. “Love the way you say my name,” he gasps.

You start rocking, slowly lifting your hips as you assist him. “You gonna make me scream it?”

“If that’s a challenge, then I will happily accept,” Eddie growls, gripping onto your hips harder and pulling you down so the union of where your bodies meet hurts in the best way. “Wonder when those legs will give up, hm?”

“I’ve thought about riding you on the couch too many times to give up easily,” you admit, giggling at his wicked grin.

“Oh, have you now? Been wearing those little panties just so I’d snap and ravish you, hmm?” He asks, hair wild as he watches you bounce on him.

“Maybe,” you admit, though that was mostly just out of comfort and trust of your best friend. “You have stronger will power than I thought you would.”

“Hmm, you think too much of me, baby,” Eddie mutters, framing your face with his hand and pulling you in for a kiss.

Admittedly, your legs are growing tired, but you soldier on, connecting your forehead with his desperately and watching his eyes glaze over. Your head already feels hazy, heat building in your stomach as you rapidly climb towards your climax. “You getting close? About to cum on my cock?”

You nod, startling in your movement as he starts to move you quicker with just the tightening of his grip on your hips. “Eds,” You whimper as he rubs his thumb on your clit, rapid movements as he hurdles you towards your orgasm, your cunt tightening around him as your eyes roll back.

“Lemme feel you squeeze my cock, baby, wanna feel you cum all over it.” Almost as he demands it into existence, you finish with a start, twisting your toes together and hunching over his shoulder while he rolls his hips, gasping and whining and mewling. “Oh, that’s my girl. Here, bet those legs’re gettin’ tired, hmm?”

You nod, giddily giggling as he maneuvers you on your back. “God, I love you. I really really do. I don’t–I don’t know what the fuck I’ve been thinking–”

You slap your hand on his mouth, giggling at his wide eyes. “Sorry, but…shut up. Rail me. Destroy me. We have time for all that later, now quit getting all emotional on me.” You take your hand off his mouth and pat his cheek. “Be a good boy and make me scream your name, won’t you?”

He chuckles deeply, his jaw dropping as he nips on the palm of your hand. “‘Be a good boy,’ hmm? Yes, ma’am.”

Okay, this turns you on too much not to eventually dissect it, but Eddie’s hips start moving, harsh and raw and brutal, just as you asked for. With each collision of his hips comes a whimper from the force, each one louder than the last.

His head curls down into your neck, sinking his teeth into your skin as he sucks and bites and laps his tongue over the pain. “Look at your neck, all marked up. All mine,” He rasps.

“All yours,” you whisper, choking on the emotion that fills your throat.

“My good girl who loves to get fucked hard, hmm?” He chuckles, curling his arms tightly around you. “Oh, listen to those pretty little noises you’re making, so pathetic for me, oh fuck.”

“Ed-keep-oh-oh–” you gasp, whining higher and higher.

“Yeah, just like that. Pathetic little princess.”

Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him in close, skin to skin, all sticky and sweaty as the smell of sex fills the air.

“You’re moaning like a desperate little slut but you’re not screaming my name, yet. Can’t wait for it. Hmm? Why you makin’ me wait?”

“Maybe you’re not hitting hard enough,” you gasp, a smile spreading across your face.

Eddie’s eyes widen, lifting his body off yours quickly. “Oh yeah? Hands n’ knees. Turn around.” He sends a jolt of fear through you, eyes widening as move into a crawl position. “That’s a girl.”

His hands tighten on your hips, lining himself up and pushing in all within the span of 3 seconds. He’s relentless with it, lurching forward as he grabs a fistful of your hair. “C’mon, I can’t hear you.” He taunts you, pulling deliciously at your scalp.

He starts moving faster and harder, clumsily planting his lips on your back, messily trying to take any claim he can on you. One hand slaps your ass, Eddie hums, appreciating the print of his hand on your skin. Moans pass through your lips, the loud ones that Eddie was asking of you. HIs name is added into the mix, cross eyed and desperate as he somehow increases his force.

“There we are. Where do ya want me to cum, baby, I’m so fuckin’ close.”

“Cum–cum in me, Eds. Fill me up.”

“Fuck-you, y’sure?”

“Fill. Me up.” You say again, getting your point across.

“Oh fuck–” he stutters, jaggedly rutting into you as he bends over you, filling you up with sticky white ropes. “You feel that, baby? Fuck. You feel all full?”

Eddie releases the hold on your hair as you fall forward, breathing heavily as you collect yourself. He pulls himself out, collapsing right next to you. His arms easily wrap around your back, pulling you in against his chest. You curl into him, sighing happily as you listen to his racing heart.

You lay like that for a while, listening to his breathing even out as he pets your hair gently. He plants a kiss on your forehead, humming. “Why did that take us so long to do?” You ask, still trying to regain control over your breathing.

“Hmm?” He pulls away, processing your question. “Oh, I don’t know. We’re idiots.”

You tug him back in, feeling sleepy as you smile against his chest. “Yeah. Big, big idiots. I love you, idiot.”

He hums, pulling you in tighter. “Love you too, ya idiot.”

It’s strange. You thought it would change everything if he were to finally be yours. It doesn’t change anything, banter traded as always, only with a caressing hand that tugs you in for a kiss when he teases you. Hormones go wild, finding resolve in one another as movies are no longer watched, just a nice background noise.

Thank you so much for reading, remember replies and reblogs are the best way to support fic writers on tumblr

Taglist For I Can Do It With A Broken Heart:

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#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie x fem!reader

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thestuffieguardian · 2 months ago

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Those females in the past fumbled so hard losing you, jfc. And I think so, I did need to hear those words. I also haven't had the best luck with men and none of them were emotionally mature and I just kinda figured that's how all men were.

Children should 100% be able to be children. Childhood should be a safe time, full of love and support. My dad passed away when I was a young teenager, and my mom didn't do best by me after. She was selfish, and it ruined my relationship with her. I see everyone having loving relationships with their moms, and I get jealous cause I could've had that.

But I love that, being each other's peace is how it should be.

ALSO, yes, ovulation makes us absolutely unhinged 😂😂 it's a blessing and a curse haha.

-shade🖤👀

Ahh. I only think about it when I workout, because I should be thanking them. I wouldn't have the mental & physical strength I would today without the pain they caused me. I was never perfect. I also made lots of mistakes that no doubt made them feel like I didn't care, too, it takes two people to fuck up a relationship, I don't blame them. I just pray they heal themselves before seeking out love, just as I'm trying to do

Men must learn emotional intelligence and maturity, it's never taught to us, because we were told it makes us look weak, but you would think that the women in our lives would try and point us in the right direction, instead of saying "another man hurt me. So I will take it out on this smaller man" just as the women of my family did to me. You would think they'd want to create a better man for another woman, but I digress

We should have been protected by our parents and those older than us, not ridiculed and treated poorly or blamed for things we didn't do or had no control over. You have my deepest condolences about your dad, that being said, I don't know your plans tonight, however if you're free and the emotional game does get picked for the stream, you should absolutely join in and watch the story, because it's going to hit you very hard and you may need that, just as I did when I played it

I understand you on the mother side of things too, she was never there to actually treat me poorly, she just put me on a door step as though I were Harry Potter, thinking I would have a better life without her in it. Very selfish of her, because why would you leave your first born son with the parents who absolutely destroyed you...doesn't make any sense at all.

I don't actually feel that envy so highly anymore, just because it isn't fair for me to be like "oh why the fuck do YOU get to have wonderful loving parents and I didn't????" We don't choose the life we're given and it isn't another person's fault for actually having a loving family, when it's all we ever wanted from this life, it's not right for me to dislike even a single aspect of someone else due to that, but I would be lying to you if I said I'd never had those thoughts, because I 100% have, absolutely

I just want us to be happy together. To keep eachother strong and standing upright, to carry eachother, I think that's why I took to video games A LOT, because the fictional women are always, always loving to their other half, same with anime as well, I just wanted that, for basically my entire life

Well that is actually an attractive thing to think about. A cute girl is ovulating and she's staring at me like she wants to pounce me like a lioness and try to knock me to the floor, but knowing due to my strength she would be caught and held up, I love that thought, I'm really seriously not sure how I ALWAYS manage to take something so incredibly animalistic and sexual in nature, and turn it loving and wholesome 😂😂😂

I'm also glad I could speak words for you to actually listen to, because no doubt you yourself have never been heard, so it's nice to have a man listen to you speak, understand and comprehend what you said, and gift you words of comfort to your standard 🥰🥰

#thanks for the ask! 🥰#drink your water please 🙏#shade 🖤

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vickvicktoriavitoria · 2 years ago

Text

Dark Paradise - Chapter 2

Trapped

✨ NOTES ✨ : Hello my little ones!! Im back from the deads!! Sorry for this disappearance, I don't even know if you guys want to read chapter two yet, but I had a big anxiety crisis and it gave me a very long writer's block. That's why it took me a while to upload, I thought nothing was getting really good. Even so, I really hope you like this new chapter because I made it with affection thinking about everyone who liked the story 💋 💋 💋. This chapter was long because I want to advance the events of the facts and in chapter 3 I already want to make y/n's daughter with two years old. 😚🥰 I hope you stay here for chapter 3, thank you so much for all the love and support you've given me and are still giving me, it means a lot to me to have you here 😚🥰.

‼️ TW ‼️ : DARK FIC!! DOMESTIC VIOLANCE!! NONCON!! FORCED MARRIAGE!! FORCED PREGNANCY!! PHYSICAL VIOLENCE!! PHYSICAL AND MENTAL ABUSE!!

💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝

A deep silence weighs on the atmosphere between you, Touya slowly approaches the two at the bottom of the stairs. Your hands gripped Rei's tightly, both trembling, icy, wondering what he was going to do next after he'd heard you. In Rei's eyes, a cold expression tried to disguise the weakness in her legs, her ragged breathing showed her fast heartbeat, her mouth opened and closed making only a few trembling sounds of protest, but her voice didn't come out of her throat as if all the words died in the way.

"I'm glad you're already getting such a warm welcome," he says, breaking the silence as he gets very close to you, looking deep into your eyes.

"I know you did something, Touya" Rei finally exclaims, bringing Touya's eyes to hers again.

"We've both done a lot of things mom... I mean, look at the kid..." he says in a wry tone with half-closed eyes and a sarcastic expression.

"You disappear, appear again out of nowhere as if you were a victim, take control of our family and even show up with a child" Rei steadies herself in front of Touya, pulling you behind her and continues, "I don't know what you're hiding, but I'm sure it's not right! And I'll stop you-"

She is interrupted by a loud laugh from Touya who leans his body back and then forward getting closer to her face.

"I don't think you heard yourself when you said I took control of the family mom" he puts his hands in his pockets and straightens his posture again "what could you or anyone else do? Don't forget your own words and how your actions can generate consequences".

You hold her hands tighter and looking at you Rei still tries to reason with Touya.

"You know very well that I'm sorry for what happened... please don't repeat our mistakes my son.", she looks at him with tears in her eyes, but they only bring a small smile to the side of his mouth.

"I would never make the same mistake mom, I'm not my dad... I'm way better than him. I may not have been able to be the perfect product like Shoto, but Hikari is just as perfect as he is, and I still took the family's reins in only one year. It just proves how pathetic you two are and failed not only as parents... I just feel disgusted and sorry for you two mom...".

Tears start streaming down Rei's face and you hug her for comfort, disbelieving how he could be so cruel to his own mother.

"And I think you'd better stay out of my business with my wife if you still want a roof over your head. Next time I see you whispering I'll-" Touya is interrupted by the door suddenly opening and a boy with hair of different colors entering with Hikari in his arms.

The young man looks at you with some questioning, sensing that something was wrong there and his eyes meet Rei's red eyes.

"Hmm... what's going on here?" he asks holding Hikari's little hands that were pulling his blouse down.

You look at Rei who was wiping her pretty face with her small pale hands, then you look at Touya who now had a disgusted expression looking at that boy.

"Mom was emotional that I brought a wife and granddaughter home as she thought I would never get married and have a family" he tries to disguise his expression with a smile, "Can you believe it? Me, the most charming of the family, and had doubts about me... imagine you".

Shoto still makes a distrustful expression and continues approaching with Hikari in his arms.

"Mom, are you alright?" he says looking into her eyes and gets only a nod from Rei who looks down and holds her arms around her body.

"See? She's great...why does everyone in this family doubt me?" Touya puts his hand on Rei's shoulder, who shrugs a little, leaning closer to you to avoid his contact.

"And why did you come here, Shoto?", the young man finishes approaching you and stays silent for a few seconds looking into your eyes and Rei's until he faces Touya.

"The baby was crying. I came to bring her to her mother" he pulls Hikari out of his arms handing her towards you. You give Rei one last pat on the back extending your arms to catch Hikari who practically throws herself at you, now trying to pull your shirt down.

“She started crying when she came to my lap… I think she didn't like me” Shoto says innocently with a sad expression and Touya covers his mouth to laugh.

"It's not that, I'm sure. I haven't breastfed her today so she must be hungry" you hold her little hands so she don't completely lower your breasts, "thank you so much for the reception, but if you'll excuse me I'm going to breastfeed her before she rips my shirt off" with a smirk you lower your head and start to climb the stairs towards what from today will be Hikari's room.

The two watch you go up and then return their attention to the present moment, Touya takes his hand off Rei's shoulder and looks at Shoto with the same expression of disgust and apathy.

"Well, I feel like we all have a lot to talk about, but I'd like to talk to my wife alone first. So if you'll excuse me," he points to the door and looks at the two of them.

Rei walks slowly towards Shoto and he holds her in his arms walking towards the front door. Shoto looks one last time at Touya who says goodbye and makes an expression as if he remembered something.

"Oh yeah, and before you come in, please knock on the door. I know the house is inside Dad's house, but my wife and I want our privacy" he raises his hand and waves a goodbye to Shoto who leaves slamming the door.

With heavy steps Touya starts to climb the stairs in the same direction you and Hikari climbed earlier. Opening the door you were lying on your back facing the doorway looking out the window humming a lullaby in a sweet tone. Turning around the bed slowly, Touya pulls out the small chair from the desk and sits leaning his face on his elbow leaning on the table, looking at the relaxed little face of Hikari who was fighting against sleep to suckle and looked at her with a warm tenderness. After a while in silence Touya starts talking.

"It must have been hard..."

"Humph... not so much. I had amazing colleagues who helped me a lot... All my support came from them actually" you answer holding Hikari's little fingers.

"Was it a normal pregnancy?"

You just shake your head a “yes” in response.

"I understand..."

He gets up from the chair and sits on the bed next to Hikari looking into your eyes.

"i’m so sorry…sorry," your eyes widen at his apology. Of all the people in this world, the last one you thought you would hear an apology from was Touya. In fact you thought he would forget about you and get some other woman to enjoy, mainly because you had a child that he didn't want to take responsibility for from the beginning. If he showed up, it would be to get rid of you two like he tried when he found out you were pregnant. Now, even so, Touya was keeping you here by free and spontaneous pressure. If you didn't come here, you would not only lose your career but also the greatest and only happiness he has given you these last few years.

"Sorry about what?" you ask a little indignantly how he has courage after all he's done and what he's still doing.

"I... I'm sorry" he approaches and brushes your hair back a little from your face, tucking it behind your ear, "for how dumb you are!" he holds your chin firmly and gives a sinister smile. "Everything could have been different, doll. Did you really think you were going to run away from me? Underestimate me like that... You know that you belong to me now and I'm going to do whatever the fuck I want with you, don't you?".

You try to pull his hand away, he holds it tighter and keeps talking, "No, no, no, no, no" he points his finger down, "do you really want to wake our little one?" you look and realize that she had slept. All your fighting stops and you go back to looking at him with tears in your eyes.

"Let me go" you whisper and take his hand.

"To our room now. I wasn't done with you yet when my mom tried to be a hero. You have 5 minutes to get there or I'll come get you here and it won't be so nice," he pushes a little your head back and he got up from the bed and left the room.

Your entire being trembles in reluctance to obey his commands. Your body and one part of your mind already knew what would happen if you stepped into that room and the other part also knew what would happen if you didn't. With a million thoughts and no strength, you give one last gentle kiss on Hikari's forehead, leave the room holding your tears, open the door to the other room and completely burst into tears. Touya, who was already waiting for you beside the door, closed it silently and took your arm, throwing you back on the bed. Like a frightened rabbit you curl up on the corner of the bed still covering your sobs so as not to wake Hikari, he just grabs you by the heel and brings you closer, placing each of your legs on either side of his hips.

"Awn, so cute. Don't worry about making noises dear" he rips the top of your dress showing your breasts, "this room is soundproof... that's why I chose it for both of us" holding one of your breasts in his huge hand Touya bends down and puts the entire nipple in his mouth.

"Touya, please," you say sobbing "why are you doing this? Why don't you forget about me and move on?"

He doesn't answer, instead uses the hand that was on your breast to rip your clothes further and goes down kissing every part of your body until he reaches your crotch.

“We're going to have a lot of fun” he says laughing, sending a shiver from the tips of your toes to the last hair on your head.

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"Rei! I can't believe you did that!" Endeavor's deep voice almost shakes the walls, "do you really want to put him on alert?!" After returning with Rei to the other part of the mansion, Shoto told everything he had seen and Rei was forced to say what had actually happened a few minutes ago.

“How could I stand still?! You saw the way that girl was pale. You still have no idea how scared she looked at him when I walked into that room!” she rages that she is being challenged even though she is trying to do something to stop her bestial son.

“Obviously we are going to do something, but everything in its own time, Rei! Now he won't stop for a minute to suspect that we're watching him after your little hero drama!” Endeavor continues and slams his palm on the table after taking a deep breath to get himself under control.

"Why?" Fuyumi's sweet voice interrupts the two, “why can't we trust that Touya-nii has really changed? That he became a better person? Just like dad” she holds her fists with her chest and looks at everyone in the room.

Natsuo lowers his head and adjusts himself better in the chair he was sitting in, “I wanted to believe it too, Fuyumi-nee, but it's very strange that he appears out of nowhere with a child and this obsession with wanting to take control of the family...he haven’t rested that one year until he bought the shares in dad's company, someone who didn't even wanted to work”.

"But... What if he's doing this for us?" she continues to try to defend her brother, “the family situation has only improved since he arrived. What if he struggled to build the strongest family?”

“Fuyumi, naivety has its limits” Shoto interrupts her leaning against the kitchen door. "We all wanted to believe that Touya has changed, but even before this girl came he was talking about her as if she were property, a toy... And now that she's arrived, we're sure something isn't right."

"What would it be? The child is definitely his” Natsuo asks covering his mouth to think a little better.

“Without a doubt, she's his daughter... Not only because of her appearance, but she also has several quirks from when he was a baby... it's impressive” Rei reinforces her son's speech.

"It remains to be seen now what he is planning..." Enji looks towards the house you were in with fear in his eyes.

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Your leg curls up trying to get away from Toya's hand that was holding them tightly against your belly. The other hand was resting on the bed next to your waist, holding the sheet tightly so he wouldn't lose balance as his hips slammed against yours, pushing deeper and deeper into you until he reached your uterus with each sudden entry he made. Grunts of pleasure fell from Touya's lips, your hands seeking some comfort from the pain of his dick forcibly entering your intimacy pulling the black shirt and now sweaty on his slender body.

"T-Touya" your voice chokes as you tries to hold on to Touya's blouse ,for your dear life, who seems to tuck in harder after hearing his name coming out of your lips. “P-please... P-stop! S-s-stop!”

He stops for a few seconds and that makes you look him in the eyes, only for Touya to abruptly turn you on your stomach and invade your intimacy again with all the previous strength. Holding on to the sheet you close your eyes and try to get out of this reality that your new husband, former toxic boyfriend, was abusing your body once again. Slowly sucking the life out of you, and this time without the slightest chance of escaping his grasp.

“Stop, honey? But how are we going to make another baby if I stop?” He whispers in your ear, moving down to your shoulders and biting at one point hard as he comes inside you and keeps himself inside until he's sure his cum won't come out, not even a drop. Your whole body writhes in disgust and pain, remembering how that man touched you makes your stomach turn in disgust and sadness, anger and anguish make your hands shake in a desire to end his life and regret fills your eyes with tears ice running down your face. 'He haven't changed at all', you internal monologue.

As soon as he feels softer he gets off you and lets you cry, still holding tight to the sheet. He turns to the opposite side of you and quickly falls into a deep sleep while you still writhe in despair. Even the way he breathed peacefully, probably having great dreams of torturing you, created such a riot that you decide to get up and lie down in the room with your little one. Gathering all your strength, you dress with the blanket because your clothes are torn at the top, lean on the walls to her room and see how she slept peacefully, without being aware of anything that had just happened in the room next door. Lying down with great care you hug her little body against yours and cry your hurts, having to accept the fact that this would now be your new life since leaving her with this man would actually only be worse, after violating you so inhuman you didn't expect anything else good from that man. Using your body to protect her is what you did from the beginning... You wonder if Hikari would ever fall into the same hole as you someday when she grows up...

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Two months later and hell was still on for you. Touya abused your body everywhere he could lay you down and put you with your legs apart to shove his cock in you until you were crying and begging him to have mercy on your body. He made sure you wasn't taking any birth control pills because as he said "Hikari may be too alone, we should make another and improve the Todoroki family as well". Not only that, he also made cruel comments about how you got fatter after your pregnancy and that he could afford a plastic surgery because he had to think of other women to have sex with you. Or when at your last minute wedding he threw the biggest banquet you've ever seen at a celebrity wedding, invited several famous friends, and laughed at the dress you had chosen at the altar. Besides having laughed at all the mean jokes his old girlfriends threw here and there at you. They talked about how Touya was a great hero, finding out that those new marks were probably because he was doing small missions as his body got hurt every time he used his individuality, also finding out that he was staying with those girls just for social status since none of them came out with anything really relevant for a conversation and at one time or another they always heard about you in some meeting with Touya. They talked everything about you, even about your previous career, how you took advantage of Touya to get along, except for Hikari. Touya wouldn't allow their filthy mouth to talk about his precious creation. Wedding that Touya got drunk and had a fit of jealousy when he saw you talking to the hero Hawks that he himself had invited and placed him in the worst table of the party leaving him excluded all the time with the Todoroki family as well.

In this period Hikari became daddy's little princess, everything she pointed the finger she wanted had to be given to her, no matter how much you said no he contradicted your decision and gave her another five. Not that you had anything to complain about, but you knew why he was doing it, and it was clearly starting to work now that Hikari liked being in her father's arms a lot more than yours.

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So six months, six months of not feeling Touya touch you, even though you were seven months pregnant. Touya managed to put another fetus in you in eight months and for a month, deciding that he still hadn't done enough, Touya was still committing the same bad things to you, giving up briefly because he knew how you could lose the baby and start dating certain " friends”, those present at the wedding, who obviously had some extra kind of relationship with them. When confronted about it by his family, Touya just said that it was your fault for not satisfying him as your husband and that he was sure by your dead face that you didn't mind sharing since apparently he was too much for one woman as simple as you. Of course he spoke with a joking tone, but you guys knew better. You knew how late he came home smelling of drinks and sweet perfumes, you knew how he itched to lean against you when he happened to bump into you in the hallway, but he tried not to do it because you were pregnant. You knew his thirst for dominance at the look on his face not disguising when he saw your growing belly, smiling from ear to ear, with his other creation inside you causing you pain and discomfort.

During these months you started to live a lot more with the other members of his family, always having support and being pampered in every way, they made it very clear that you could open up at any time if necessary. How they liked you and cared for your health, Hikari's health and the health of the baby to come. But, what could they say? What could they do? It was evident to you in a short time how Touya had taken care of everything and didn't even let his family members have many friends. You decided to just start not caring, so you became apathetic to Touya's actions. It wasn't like he didn't hurt you anymore, just that you couldn't show any kind of reaction when he clearly showed up with some lipstick mark on his neck, or when he made some mean comment about you, or when he strangely pulled you to caress your belly for hours until he said he was sick and sent you away with a shove on the shoulder. It was a relief when he let go of you and Kaen, his new boy who was growing up fast and seemed to know his father for getting so much more agitated when he hugged you two. At the reveal party about his gender, Touya made a point of buying blue fireworks and releasing them without being at the time of celebration, earning a big fine that he paid like some change.

Touya had started looking only for the best schools to place Hikari, several got in touch because it would be an honor to have the daughter of a great businessman and granddaughter of hero number two studying with them, but Touya didn't think any of those were enough for Hikari and denied the invitation of at least five until accepting the invitation of the most expensive and renowned school in the country. It wasn't hard for you to see that he loved her and that was obvious, but the fact that she looked so much like him hinted that he only loved her for being a clone and you feared that your other baby would not be the same way and end up suffering. He said he could feel how powerful Hikari was when he took her little hands, that she was going to be the best fire user even before Shoto graduated from UA, it made you reflect on what Hikari's life would be like once she grew up.. Also, what if the other baby was born with your individuality...

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Days like this were common when you, Hikari and Touya would go to the playground to spend some time. Today was a special day because as soon as the next week started Hikari would already start going to school and would be away from you for a long time. He almost freaked out with jealousy one day talking about how he would do everything to keep the boys away from Hikari and in reality you believe it by the death glare he made looking at nothing. She had fun jumping in the area, getting her little bunny ears shoes dirty, her little face covered in sand as well for picking up the toys and then deciding to scratch her face with her little hands that were still dirty. Touya leaned on the small metal fence that surrounded the playground, talking to the mother of another child who was playing near Hikari, the exchanged smiles and head turns made it clear that they were flirting, another group of women looked at them and at you, waiting for a reaction from you, all you do is settle down better in the seat and close your eyes to rest better. In these last few weeks the baby didn't stop moving during the night, which made your sleep uncontrolled and wherever you leaned you just slept as if you had passed out. It became difficult to pay attention to Hikari so you decided to go back to the hobby of going out with her to quiet places until Touya intruded and decided he wouldn't let the two of you go out alone. Not that you had anything to complain about having male companionship, you were pregnant and Hikari was still small so anything that might happen you would be totally at the villain's mercy, but everywhere was the same: Touya exchanging words with some random woman clearly wanting to trade other things with them. With heavy eyes again you fall into a deep sleep on the bench, “only for five minutes” you think to yourself, but in a loud noise you wake up to find Touya screaming at that same woman as if he was about to jump on her and Hikari crying on the floor with hands holding a broken toy. Without understanding much, you can't have an immediate reaction, just hear Touya's screams with that woman.

“IT WAS YOUR FAULT FOR NOT EDUCATING YOUR CHILD RIGHT!” he huffed and when he started to get too close to her you decided to get up with a little difficulty from your belly and go see what was going on before the worst, “YOU FUCKIN PIECE OF SHIT! IF YOUR SON TOUCHES MY DAUGHTER AGAIN I SWEAR I-"

“Touya!” you interrupt making him look at you coming towards Hikari and being quiet for a few seconds, “What happened?! Why this confusion?!”.

When you pick up Hikari from the floor she holds tight to your dress and the broken toy falls to the floor. He looks into your eyes and then into her tear-filled red eyes, takes a deep breath and turns back to the woman who was trembling like a leaf in the wind of fear.

“If I ever see you and your son here again I'm going to buy every park in this town, put a sign on the grid of each with a no-go list. First the dogs and just below them your dirty name, understand?” he turns around taking Hikari from your arms and wiping her little face, "Let's go."

You try to hurry your steps to reach him, grab the bag on the bench, but determined Touya walked as if he was going to take the grass off the ground with quick and heavy steps.

“Touya, wait!” he stops and looks at you walking slowly with that heavy bag, that really big belly and comes back a little to help you walk.

“Touya…what happened there?” you ask in a calm, sweet voice of concern.

He doesn't answer, just takes you to the car, puts Hikari in her car seat and the bag in the trunk before closing the car door for you as you get in, getting behind the wheel driving towards home. Hikari touches you asking for affection and you hug her as best as you can with your huge belly on the way and the baby moving, she looks at you when she feels the baby moving and gives a little smile, you sigh when you realize that everything was fine and she hadn't been seriously hurt. Looking in the rear view mirror you see Touya looking at the two of you and grips the steering wheel tighter as if he's holding back his anger, once again you decide to ask him what happened and he opens his mouth to answer.

"What's happened is that none of you are ever leaving the house again," a coldness in his voice that makes your hands freeze.

"What now?!" you ask not understanding anything and shaking your head.

"That's right what you heard" he repeats in the same tone and looks at you in the rearview mirror, "just thinking about something happening to you guys I... I lose my mind".

His arms force the steering wheel and the car enters its first turn. Realizing that now he was out of his mind you prefer not to say anything else and just caress Hikari's hair who now looks at her father in the front seat and then at you with a little crying pout.

As soon as you arrive, Touya starts calling several people as if he was putting together something and tells you to come in with Hikari that he had matters to resolve. Obeying him for his still not looking the best face you put her inside and start playing with her to the best of your ability before she gets bored and asks to watch the TV, you turn the TV on going to the kitchen to prepare something to eat. This pregnancy was complicated even though Hikari's was very normal and good. Everything you ate these last few weeks, if it wasn't pasty you were soon putting it out, so your options were very few and the diversity of soups for you was running out. Rei of course always helped you try to eat something else, but it was no use and no matter how tasty it was, in the end you would put it out and lay down for hours feeling dizzy until you had the strength to get up and eat some other soup again. Lucky for you, even the soups Rei was a great cook and she made them very appetizing, but it was only a matter of time before it started to really affect your health as you didn't eat properly and you were afraid of the moment it happened. Leaning on the counter, you look for something in the fridge until you hear a loud noise in the backyard and decide to go there to see what was going on. The noises apparently came from a little house in the backyard and you go there to see what it was about. When you arrive, a blast of blue fire passes very close to your face and you get scared leaning back a little.

" What are you doing here?" Touya's voice says from the back of the small house. His hands were clenched into fists and his body was sweaty with several red dots where the flames were born and disappeared.

"I heard a noise and I was worried..." you say putting your hands around your belly. Just the memory of what he did made you still afraid that Touya would somehow try to hurt you and your instincts involuntarily moved your body to protect the baby in your womb.

He turns around and goes to a box where he takes out some gases and wraps them in his hand.

“Please…what happened to make you so mad?” again you insist. With a sigh he begins to speak.

"That slut's son just tried to take Hikari's toy and when he couldn't he broke in her little hand" he starts punching a punching bag that was previously on fire.

"I see, but you know he's a child..."

“A kid who's going to grow up to be an adult, just thinking about a bastard like that next to her I--” he keeps hitting the bag like he wants to punch someone and you walk a little further from the door.

It was funny how Touya was afraid to pay with his daughter someday for what he was doing to you now.

“Yes, but you can't expect all children to be the same” you add “I'm sure you were different from your brothers when you were little”, of that you were absolutely sure.

"That's why from now on none of you will leave the house"

“Touya, this doesn't make any sense. Do you want to lock her up at home to prevent her from reality?” you say with a chuckle at the end, "We must make her strong to face whatever comes her way, not make her run away from her challenges."

"Look who's talking" he holds the bag preventing it from swinging from side to side looking into your eyes now, "you were the one who ran away and hid from me to protect her, now you want to put her at risk again?" .

In disbelief you open your lips and widen your eyes at what he just said.

“Touya I ran away with her because you wanted to end her up… it wasn't a simple childish bad prank” you hold your hands so you don't go up to him remembering what he put you through.

He is quiet for a while as if thinking and you take the opportunity to soften his heart a little more, if he had one, at this point it was hard to believe.

“Please she loves you, you always give her everything she wants… What are you going to do when she asks you to go out and you say no? You know she's going to be upset... Are you really going to hurt your little princess like that?”

“Why do you want to go out so badly? It's not like you're free anyway, y/n. You better remember your place and start not questioning my decisions anymore” he concludes in a threatening tone.

Taking a few more breaths, he leans against the punching bag.

“I don't know what else to do…please excuse me now I'm not into talking and you're clearly better not getting involved in intrigue” he gestures for you to leave.

A light rises in your eyes that he really softened as soon as you spoke of Hikari, the fact that you should have noticed before makes your chest fill with hope that maybe you weren't so trapped by how much he truly loved her.

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Final Notes: I’d like to tag @maggiecc bc on the last chapter she asked me to, and im sorry if it wans’t to tag you anymore, but i hope you like this new chapter sweetie 💕💞💝.

#bnha lemon #bnha #bnha smut #bnha dabi #bnha headcannons #bnha dabi smut #dabi smut #touya tododroki smut touya x reader noncon tw: noncon tw:breeding tw:toxic #dabi x y/n #dabi x y/n toxic forced marriage #tw: yandere #dabi toxic mha dabi smut mha smut

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ahundredtimesover · 3 years ago

Note

I love ‘Please Love Me’ so so much 😍❤️ I always go back and re-read it because I love this couple lots🥲❤️ That scene where Mia makes Oc feel crappy and Jk did nothing in that moment pains me every time 😔 What would Jungkook say to Mia this time if she were to try to bring Oc down again?😱 you are so talented I love all your series❤️

Hi, anon! Having my stories reread is quite the compliment and I'm so happy you enjoyed PLM! 🥺 That couple holds a special place in my heart, too, and that part with Mia and the aftermath remain to be one of my favorites. 💔 As for what JK would say now... Well, I wrote a little something. I got carried away bc I missed them so much! Thank you for this and I hope you enjoy. 🥰🥰

Title: Please Love Me Drabble (01) - Seeing an old fling. Again.

WC: 841

Please Love Me Mini-Series

“One Old Fashioned, please. Four Roses,” you tell the bartender, who works on your order immediately.

“Hmm, never thought of you as a whiskey kind of girl,” an annoyingly familiar voice gets your attention. “I was thinking more of champagne. You know, something safe, boring.”

You turn towards her. Memories of almost 2 years ago come rushing back, the scene of how she humiliated you and shamelessly flirted with Jungkook at an event causing your blood to boil. But you take her on with confidence - thanks to that time he apologized for that night, and to your commitment to each other in helping dispel whatever insecurities you might still have about being each other’s partners.

“It’s for my husband, actually,” you put on your measured smile.

You bite back any snide remark that breezes through your head, not wanting to embarrass her the way she did you.

She’s about to respond until her eyes lock in on Jungkook’s figure - breathtakingly handsome in an all-black ensemble, following him as he stands by your side, an arm immediately wrapping around your waist.

“Hey, babe.” He takes the glass you give him and turns when an annoyingly familiar voice sensually calls his name.

“Mia, hey,” he smiles, acting surprised, as if he didn’t see her just seconds ago, judgingly eyeing you again, and he just had to step away from the conversation he was having with his friends to go to you.

“It’s nice to see you,” she says, walking closer. “The guys were adamant you’d come but I didn’t think you actually would, given your duties and all.”

She cocks her eyebrow at your direction, the insinuation not lost on you and Jungkook.

“Yeah, well, ___ and I just came from a trip to Alberta for our second year anniversary,” he says, sipping his drink. “We just had to cut it by a day so we could come to New York. I wouldn’t hear the end of it if I missed Mark’s wedding.”

“Canada, I see. Did you have fun?” She asks, emphasizing the last word.

“Oh yeah,” he looks at you. “Right?”

He chuckles, recalling how he fell on his butt multiple times during the glacier tour, and how you nursed him in several ways after that.

“We did,” you giggle, knowing what he’s thinking.

“We did a bunch of tours. And ___ did a lot of painting while on the balcony. That was pretty special.”

His smile softens this time, recalling the mornings he’d woken up, the scene of the mountains as the perfect background to the view of you, looking immaculate as you create beauty with your paint brushes.

“Hmm,” she responds bitterly. “Not bored, are you? You never got back to me after we made those plans. I was waiting for your call.”

You know she wants to rattle you, coming up with a lie to make you feel small and insecure again. But you know better. Jungkook has been nothing but honest about her, and neither of you are bothered.

“Never had a reason to,” he shrugs. “Between work and my wife, I barely have time for anything else. And I’m perfectly happy with that.”

You feel him trace patterns on your waist, and you relax in his hold, knowing that this encounter is nothing like the first time. There’s trust and respect now, and more than anything, so much love.

Mia crosses her arms and straightens her face, and coupled with her look of annoyance, it seems like she’s waving the white flag, your husband prompting it without much fanfare.

Much as Jungkook wants to say more - make her suffer even just a fraction of how she made you, he knows it’s not even worth both your time.

“You’re a changed man, Jungkook,” she shakes her head, the faint smile as her last effort to find humor in the situation, something she didn’t expect at all. “I never thought I’d see the day.”

“That’s what being in love does, I guess. You should try it some time.”

You almost choke on air with the jab, and you’d smile if it wasn’t mean.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to brag about my wife to my other friends,” he says, taking your hand and leading you to a group of men who are smiling back at him.

“Sorry about that,” he whispers, kissing your hand.

“Absolutely nothing to apologize for,” you shake your head, wanting to put the Mia drama behind you. “I met one of your friends though, Andrew?”

“Yeah, I saw,” he pouts.

“He’s a sculptor and really talented!”

“He’s a flirt, that’s what he is,” he furrows his brows.

It takes all of you not to kiss Jungkook right now with how adorable he looks when he’s a tinybit threatened.

“No reason for jealousy tonight, honey. You know I’m all yours,” you assure him.

“Good,” he kisses your lips, deep but quick. “He’s still a flirt though.”

You laugh, basking in his touch and the way he proudly introduces you to his college mates.

#jungkook fic #jungkook scenario #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #husband jk #please love me #series

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luaspersona · 2 years ago

Text

so *flips through notes* how shall i start?

well, again, i’ve decided to break my commentary into sections, so things are easier to navigate (it starts with a bunch of reactions, but if you power through it there’s in depth comments too lmao), and i went a bit wild with arrows too (tell me if it’s better or worse, i’m still figuring out how to give long commentary). i do feel like i’ll never be able to live up to my forfeit analysis tho, lol, maybe when the story is complete and i write a full series review, but for now, given that i don’t have much time at hand anymore, i hope you still enjoy simpler feedback from me 🥰

regardless of anything, this turned out to be enormous once again, so a quick tl;dr: the window is honestly one of your best works — and that’s saying something. i’m not sure it tops dal segno or forfeit for me, because those were chapters that came with a lot of really difficult personal realizations and helped me come to terms with a bunch of personal shit too. anyway, i don’t think you ever need to be nervous before a drop because everything you write is gold.

so 👏🏽 let’s 👏🏽 start

PARTS WHERE I LAUGHED

⇝ upon rereading this passage, i understood that reader was disappointed that yoongi didn’t sent anything, and that’s so funny because he did text her before lol

Drifting to your bed, you check your phone previously dumped on the nightstand, sighing at an empty screen before making your way into the cozy nook of your bedroom.

⇝ who can blame the man honestly? i wish.

Your brother definitely muscled everyone else into rooming with each other, claiming Yoongi for himself.

⇝ poor mr. taehyung park 😔

And how deep you dug your nails into Tae’s dress pants.

Fuck, you should apologize for those marks he definitely has.

⇝ reader was in full i like it mode of “you still look good and it annoys me, pretty woman” here lmao:

Why the hell does he have to look like that when you’re this frustrated? Of course he’d rock a black button-up and slacks. Of course he’d style his hair in a way that makes you wanna snatch him from the hallway. Of course he’d look the most expensive you’ve ever seen him.

This is a whole other layer of upset that you didn’t need tonight.

↪ it made me realize that she’ll have a rough time whenever she and yoongi fight or something, ‘cus he’ll be walking around looking like a three course meal effortlessly and that’s just not fair.

⇝ jungkook in the middle of it not understanding shit lmaoooooo

“I already said I wasn’t going at dinner last night. But y’all seemed distracted enough, so.”

Yoongi straightens while Jungkook simply utters a confused sound.

↪ yoongi trying to mend things was so funny to me omg:

“Don’t, Kook.”

“But I—”“Drop it.”“Did I do something wrong?”

“The fuck? No. Let’s go.”

⇝ i love how dom became our official bs spotter too lmaoo, but i’d be so offended fr 🤣:

“What happened, baby. I haven’t heard you like this in a long ass time.”

“Sad?”

“Pathetic.”

⇝ and damnn i SCREAMED when i read this omg:

“He what? Flirted with some chick in front of everyone like he’s supposed to?”

↪ but i have to defend my baby here though, ‘cus i 100% get her. especially knowing she’s been through a bunch of shit before and it’s super insecure. maybe she acted up a little bit, but it doesn’t change the fact that she was hurt and we see in a bunch of little parts how she’s still unsure about her relationship with yoongi (even calling it a situationship and saying her trust is a work in progress) so honestly? although i’m not one for yelling or being sassy and shit, i know i’d be pretty upset too. not to mention that the texts he sent after the dinner weren’t about what happened, and even yoongi admitted he went about the whole thing the wrong way and should’ve been clearer. i mean, c’mon:

“The one person that could possibly make it better this time just took this chick’s number in front of me.”

↪ i get it. we know yoongi wouldn’t actually do anything because we’ve been inside his head, the reader hasn’t. and i think we can all agree that yoongi messed up big time here:

“Did you end up calling her? That girl.”

[...]

“I did.”

And your heart slams into the ground. “I see.”

“You wanna know why?”

Absolutely not. “No.”

↪ i know he wasn’t worried ‘cus he knew he didn’t do anything, but he saw that the reader was upset about it and he still decided not to be clear straight away? ffs 😩

⇝ again, it’s dom’s world. we just living in it:

“So make up with my future brother in law and I’ll see you when—”

“What?”

“—get back. And y’all use protection, right? Cus I don’t wanna be an auntie just ye—”

⇝ that was so sexy of him:

“You mad?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Stay that way.”

⇝ LMAOOO, that makes the writing so genuine omg, i caN’T:

When you pop back into your bedroom, you catch Yoongi pinning you with amusement, almost telling him to shut up out loud.

Why the fuck does he look so hot you need to focus!

⇝ oh, what? no, bro, don’t mind me, i’m was just sucking yoongi out here:

Shit, you probably look like a trainwreck. What the hell do you say? Certainly not that you were just sucking off his best friend that’s still very much in the room oh god.

⇝ honestly ryen you’re SO FUNNY OMG THIS HAD ME IN TEARS:

Oh, fuck. He’s sitting on your mattress?

Ironically—hilariously—that’s better than him sitting on one of the armchairs.

↪ and like??? 🤣:

Body twinging with guilt and paranoia, you gingerly sit just close enough to him, leaning away when you see nothing but the Sun on his computer. “Dude, the brightness.”

⇝ and the way you wrote this ryen omg 😭😭😭:

Grasping for a ledge to latch onto, you remind him mid-freefall.

⇝ 😭😭😭 yoongi istg:

“You talk about me like that?”

↪ also, this made me think like, whenever we like someone, we want to talk about that person all the time to everyone. so for the reader to be keeping it a secret… damn that must be hard, especially given that her brother knows yoongi so well and she must want to talk about yoongi with him so bad.

⇝ i was so overwhelmed here that my laughter was manic:

Because that was your brother.

Yelling with a knock from the other side of the goddamn wall.

PARTS WHERE I WANTED TO SWALLOW MY FIST (lovingly)

⇝ the mere mention of a balcony already had me screaming:

You even have a decent balcony, which you would be sitting on if not for the subzero temperatures outside.

⇝ i have to say that whenever vmin is mentioned, i lowkey malfunction:

The trip had been pretty magical and fantastic before that dinner. You got to go sightseeing in the snow-capped mountains with everyone, snuck a peek of Tae’s little moment with Jimin in the hot springs, visited a quaint village with pretty shops, and even sat around a fire pit after grilling food.

↪ they are such an interesting couple and maybe that’s also ‘cus we know basically nothing about them, but oh god! i really love to get glimpses into their relationship. the last time we checked on the they were still unsure and tae was in pure angst

⇝ i just LOVED the scene with yoongi and jungkook on the hallway. like, it could’ve been hoseok, namjoon or jin, but no, it had to be yoonkook 😩🗣 and of course we don’t know if the chapter is canon and – in the case that it is – when it takes place, but ugh, just to imagine that this is post-forfeit jungkook who wants to win the reader back and that’s post-flutter yoongi who just confessed and opened up to reader makes it all so funny and kdeofkdlfejksd

⇝ this part had me all giddy because i remember a 3tan slice you made of reader and yoongi talking about bro’s nice-jock-brother phase and before yoongi starts feeling guilty he gets all curious about those childhood stories. sidewalk too had some nostalgia moments and i liked it so much! it makes me interested in seeing yoongi’s reactions to reader’s embarrassing stories (especially knowing he was probably there for most of them too), i really love seeing them dwelling on memories:

How Yoongi had been giving you looks as you and your brother traded embarrassing stories, your whole table laughing with every single one.

⇝ the amount of times yoongi called reader babe in this chapter should be illegal. i’m pretty sure i’m damaged for life

⇝ i just love how yoongi cherishes her and loves her so much. i keep thinking of them being official, and how much yoongi would be one of those sweet as fuck boyfriends that wants to just be with his girl all the time (and from what bro has said he really is like that, so.):

��Huh? You deserve a lot more than this.”

⇝ that you… wut 😳

“You know exactly why!” you whisper, grabbing him to kiss some sense into that reckless brain you love so much.

⇝ this made me scream of fondness in the middle of the smut ugh omg:

“Oh. No, I really do just like making you mad.”

He laughs before kissing your head. “I can see that. Punk ass.”

↪ again, this is just so wholesome fuck it:

“So cute like this.” He doesn’t explain further, but falters with a moan before laughing to himself. “Hustling the shit out of me.”

⇝ yoongi not hiding 😭 the man has a mission of killing us all and he’s relentless.

⇝ DLDJFDLFJDKSKFJ:

And it’s how you can be anywhere in the world, in any situation, and yet feel so at home if he’s there. “Just for you,” you whisper, suddenly overcome with something more than yourself.

⇝ when i tell you i fucking bawled with this:

When you finally clasp it on, you hold up his arm with a smile. “Look! Now we match.”

↪ this was the sweetest fucking thing ever and i wanted to explode. it’s all about those snippets of intimacy and domesticity. the ease with which they just… match — way before any chains were exchanged. and now their silver and golden links bond them too.

⇝ i really don’t know what to think about this, if i’m being honest:

When you both leave the aisle first, you miss the look that Jin shares with Namjoon.

↪ it’s said in forfeit that it's been a while since jin and namjoon saw the reader and they were away during most of their relationship we’ve seen, so i’m not 100% sure it means they are onto something. i think it’s more like that ask that jimin received if he was surprised to learn about yoongi and reader and he said that it kinda just made sense, so i think it’s something like that that namjin felt here — not suspicion, but a feeling like “what if…”

PARTS WHERE I FORGOT HOW TO BREATH

⇝ had to say i 100% thought the reader had hooked up with the girl lmao, the WAY you wrote this omg:

What makes everything even worse? You recognized exactly where you saw her before that night.

You… She…

⇝ loved that her body reacts to yoongi’s presence even if it isn’t fully acknowledged:

Your heart must’ve seen Yoongi coming from your brother’s room before you did, because its beats already stop before he fully comes into view.

⇝ i just LOVE how yoonig calls, like every time they are texting and something mildly serious comes up he immediately calls her. he wants to hear her and talk things through, and i love it so much:

Yoongi [10:27pm]: Ok hold on

You wait for a few moments before you get a call, and your eyes bug out of their sockets because you certainly didn’t expect this.

When you pick up, it’s loud as hell on his end. “Hi.”

“Talk to me.”

↪ and the same here:

“No. I don’t. So if you wanna say something, say it.”

↪ the man wants no misunderstandings, no miscommunications, he wants clear talks and to understand the reader. he doesn’t dismiss the fact she’s upset, he wants to understand why and never makes her feel like she’s overreacting or exaggerating, ‘cus he respects her feelings effortlessly

⇝ although i was squirming ‘cus of the way their conversation just wasn’t like happening, i kinda laughed at this too:

Yoongi [11:08pm]: Got somewhere to be

You [11:10pm]: i’m sure you do

↪ the reader was being so cheeky i was lowkey proud

⇝ yoongi doesn’t get enough credit for how mature he is: he knows he likes the reader and he couldn’t give less of a fuck about being right or hurting his pride when there’s an issue:

Goddamn it… Why is he giving you so many chances.

⇝ this part was really interesting to me:

But Yoongi still doesn’t let go of your head, instead palming it just a bit more into his dress shirt before he whispers, “Just…”

And he stops.

Without any indication of—

“Can I just kiss you.”

↪ yoongi is dead scared of not deserving the reader or something, and here she was really mad with him and was being kinda harsh and he just knows he didn’t do things the right way, so he was probably really scared going into her room and somewhat losing her. it might seem like a stretch, but the reader’s trust was shaken by something “small” and she was already thinking about a thousand of terrible scenarios, so i don’t think it’s above yoongi to overthink the situation too. and even the reader finds it a bit weird the way he’s acting:

Because Yoongi has shown you time and time again how dangerous he can be. How he can lose control in the best ways just as you do for him.

But right now? Devouring you like you both had been apart for months while your brother’s on the other side of the wall?

↪ i think that’s why he acted up with the brother so close and all: he not only wanted her to understand he’s hers, but he also wanted to assure that she still with him, she’s still there and still his too. i think one thing the reader doesn’t understand is that yoongi is as insecure as she is, but shows it in a different way ‘cus he has all this facade while she wears her heart under her sleeve.

⇝ i was cheated before, so i 100% get her:

“I know I shouldn’t have, but my brain went straight for the worst possible scenario. It’s, umm…”

Looking away, you fight the tears that you specifically didn’t want falling. The ones that you were done crying years ago,

“It’s happened before. Around this same time, actually.”

↪ even though i get how shitty it is to be questioned too. also, reading this brought a whole new level of understanding regarding her character and why she’s so insecure — beyond what we already know.

⇝ honestly this was just so damn perfect i had to stop reading for around 10 minutes to collect myself:

It’s a thin chain, with small links and no embellishments.

↪ it means so much after everything that happened, almost like their secret way of vowing their devotion to one another, through a symbol only them know the meaning and weight to.

⇝ 😳:

“You really came here to tell me all that?”

“Yeah.” He snags your chin. “And to teach you a fucking lesson.”

*breaks in cold sweat*

⇝ jesus fucking christ when i tell you i fucking scrEAMED??????

“I know,” he laughs. “Dunks are fucking untouchable right now.”

“Right? Yoongi has like, fifty pairs.”

↪ i was gaping for hours after this. felt like ross saying the wrong name at the altar, and it had me thinking, ‘cus that HAS to set at least a seed of suspicion on his mind:

“I mean, maybe. Didn’t expect you to mention him is all.”

⇝ i have no words, just feelings:

“Teach you to think I’m not yours.”

“B—”

“As if I don’t wanna give you my shit—”

“Fu—!”

“—so you can walk around everywhere with it on.”

SMUT

as you can see the division i made is kinda unregular, but please pretend this is organized.

⇝ that’s so fucking sexy honestly, i felt like passing out:

“I wanna forget my own name.”

“I can make that happen.”

⇝ i stand by my OG three tangerines commentary:

“But also…” Summoning courage from all angles, you place a firm hand on his chest. “Can I still be mad at you?”

Yoongi falls completely silent for a moment, his stare incredulous and his chest stiff under your palm.

Did his heart… beat harder there?

↪ can 👏🏽 someone 👏🏽 PLEASE 👏🏽 dominate 👏🏽 this 👏🏽 man? he’s desperate:

And as he stares down at the material, something stirs in your belly, and you’re quick to wonder where any and all if this rebellion is coming from.

Maybe it’s the painfully obvious tent he has in his pants. Or the ravenous, subtly proud look in his eyes anytime you act out.

↪ istg ryen please give this man what he wants (i know here it also means he was trying to hold back but REGARDLESS):

Gulping, you feel strangely powerful despite being the one with no clothes on. Even though he’s the one towering over, you have a feeling he’s trying hard as fuck to keep himself in check.

↪ i mean… do i even have to say anything?

“It wouldn’t’ve lasted long anyway.”

“Now you’re just rude.”

His lip bite is so handsome that you almost miss the dash of shyness.

Or was that your imagination?

“Maybe next time, doll.”

⇝ this got me so riled up that i almost sobbed reading it:

“As much as I wanna hear you, you better shut the fuck up, doll.”

⇝ OG reader could never and i couldn’t be prouder:

“But you’re gonna wait your turn like a good girl.”

“No!”

↪ and the straight up iconic:

“Make me,” you hiss, lifting your head to meet his lips. “Bitch.”

↪ reader was full on:

⇝ honestly that’s the sexiest sex to ever sex:

“Because you seem to think I’m not yours.”

Wait. What?

That’s the… That’s the lesson he’s gonna teach you?

“And I’m gonna fuck you until you get the point.”

Oh, fuck. He’s still pissed.

↪ i– i think i need a lesson too 😔

↪ not to mention that i think you dealt very well with everyone wanting angry sex because of jealousy and then staying true to their characters by making angry sex because they are pissed at their insecurities lol

⇝ god forgive me for i have sinned:

Silent but firm, he leads you to one of the armchairs in your room’s nook, sitting you down before giving a chaste kiss.

⇝ and ugh this yoongi? standing tall over her?? unbuttoning his cuffs??? demanding shit????

Unbuttoning one of his cuffs, Yoongi simply stands over you while explaining, “You’re gonna show me first.”

“Huh?”

He folds his sleeve inward before pushing it up his forearm. “How you get off.”

[...]

“Don’t make me wait.”

↪ also, watching some get off is honestly the hottest shit

⇝ *sobs*:

Does he really have to spread his legs as wide as yours, though?

⇝ this is the point in which my review became posthumous:

“Wanna fuck your throat.” You whimper into his palm before he sticks a thumb inside your mouth. “Paint this pretty face.”

⇝ i wanna say that subspace is something that makes me a bit uncomfortable overall, but the way you handled the hint of it here just made me relieved, especially yoongi’s attention and care to check on her and see if she’s still able to consent and shit, so even if it’s not my favorite thing, i know i’ll enjoy it with you writing it:

He leans down, and you’re regarding him with a strange look as he looks from one eye to the other.

⇝ i loved her so much for this 😭 i want to be here one day:

“I dunno but I know you want it.”

⇝ honestly?

Sliding your mouth back and forth, you make a few passes before releasing him to spit, coating him with your saliva before going again. With your other fingers busy on your clit, you feel the dirtiest you’ve felt in a long time.

⇝ when i read this my brain just stopped for a second ‘cus i forgot the warnings and thought they were doing it raw:

When he understands, a low curse shoots out. “Fuck, my condoms are in the room.”

↪ on that note:

“God, I can’t wait to feel all of you.”

↪ yoongi wants it, we want it… so what’s it gonna be ryen 🧐?

⇝ yoongi’s pain kink is gonna be my downfall:

“Tug on my shit,” he grits, humming with eyes shut when you yank his head to the side. “Fuck.”

⇝ i wanted to cry when i read this, omg i SCREAMED, what ON EARTH MR PARK TAEHYUNG:

“I gotta say… I get it, babe.”

He smirks while looking away.

“Y’all sound fucking hot in bed.”

↪ like someone said, having a drabble of their perspective coming into the house and hearing them would be amazing. but i imagine how tired you are too and the last thing i want is to put pressure on you too! if you find yourself wanting to write another drabble for us eventually, i’d definitely vote on this.

⇝ overall like, the smut is just so fucking overwhelming in a way. there are so much at play here, so much intimacy, so many words not said, and it’s so fucking intense, the way they can’t get enough of each other, how messy it gets, how they aren’t barely thinking and it’s just so fucking sexy how you are able to convey it all in your writing. i mean, how can i define this as anything but deliciously overwhelming (especially with the stream of consciousness here too):

The point. You get it. You get it you get it you understand it so fucking well.

↪ and here too:

Because Yoongi decides to switch up the pace, going slow enough to make you sob into soft lips rubbed raw.

Praise, reassurance, more praise. All of these things fall on your features and into your ears, and you hold onto him as if he’s your last lifeline.

↪ and also:

When you give a vigorous shake of your head, fingers you adore clasp yours, and your hand is pressed into rumpled sheets next to your wet cheek. You’re so caught up and entirely whole that you don’t even realize where you end and he begins, don’t even register that you’re coming again because he’s already made you feel that fantastic.

↪ i mean, every intimate scene of them (be it just a kiss or a full on smut) always makes me think of closer. they both suck at communicating their feelings, it took that scene in forfeit for them to finally open up, so i see them often translating their feelings into touches and that portrays a heavy role in each intimate moment — and you write each with absolute perfection. we can feel the intensity of their feelings every time, how they give themselves into those moments. further evidence (thank god i was in my bed while reading, ‘cus otherwise i would’ve fall):

Instead of claiming your lips again, Yoongi goes for a light touch to your nose. Which is just as fine because that’s his to claim, too.

✨YOUR WRITING✨

⇝ i found it interesting the way you decided to describe the house too. i’m not entirely sure why you did, but i’ll lay it out here in case it’s something i’m missing, but:

But they leave regardless, and you watch as they make it down the staircase of your elaborate rented house, their chatter coating both the polished floors and the decorated walls.

↪ and also:

Seriously, does every bedroom in this mansion-like place have a mini kitchen and living area, too?

↪ for me later on seemed to indicate some kind of imagery contrast. because the place is just so pretty, so sumptuous, but inside reside two siblings alone (at first), feeling the emptiness that the holidays bring them. i don’t know, i 100% might be reading too much into it, especially because the details aren’t often pejorative or exaggerated, and it can be just you revealing the environment through your character’s reaction to it, but yeah. welcome to overthinking 24/7.

⇝ you have this control, that i’m sure i’ve mentioned a bunch of times already, of information that’s so incredible. you know exactly when to hold back information and how to reveal it when it’s the right time. and it creates such and anxiety and tension from the very start like:

You know they’re meeting up with everyone else, but you can’t bring yourself to join in on the festivities. Not after whatever the hell you witnessed at dinner last night.

Why did Yoongi…

Fuck, forget about it. It’s probably nothing.

↪ i mean!! we read this and are immediately punching the air like it’s nOT NOTHING BESTIE, SPILL 😩 and you tease us so fucking bad like:

Frankly, you don’t wanna recall how the rest of that went down again.

↪ yes you do, sweetie, what happened 😭😩

↪ but not only regarding what happened on the trip, but before it. you drop some hints at some sour memory the sibling share regarding that time of the year:

Your brother most definitely heard you from right next door.

Eyes shut, you fling your hand around while making your way over to tell him to screw off. He knows better than anyone why you could possibly be in one of these moods, dinner woes or not.

⇝ i love the creative ways in which you describe their feelings. i’ve mentioned this in my commentary for the OG chapter, and i’m pretty sure i mentioned it too for forfeit, but i just NEED to point out every time, ‘cus i mean:

A tsk scratches your teeth before you lean the cocoa against your cup, and the kettle boils just as your blood pressure falls close behind.

↪ you could’ve just said she was nervous and angry and whatnot, but no. and i don’t know if it’s because english isn’t my first language, but i struggle so much to write those types of ‘expositions’ on my own work, so i just have to cherish the way you do it.

⇝ another thing i’ve mentioned countless times, but it never fails to amaze me when you do it, is the way you use free indirect speech. there ain’t no filter between the discourse and their thoughts, and what happens is a complete connection with the characters, we feel with them and we think with them, and that happens in every sentence, not only in bigger rants or rationalizations, but in smaller reactions too, for example, the lack of punctuation here that indicates also a stream of consciousness beyond free indirect speech:

Shut up. Just shut up shut up and talk again because Jungkook looks gravely concerned.

↪ and the same here, with no punctuation, just rapid thought and impulsive words shown through free indirect speech:

But the dinner, the dinner, the dinner. You didn’t ask about it, but Yoongi still could’ve said something about it right he could’ve texted well okay this really shouldn’t be that big of a deal anyway maybe it’s nothing but fuck you’re still mad wait you’re saying something,

“Have fun sightseeing.”

↪ and here:

What does he mean he lied what did he lie about he better explain quick or else… a pouch?

↪ and you mastered this tool so well that you’re able to make writing feel a lot like a movie, ‘cus you make as visualize things through this speech, like here:

And he finally reaches to fondle your tits to push you over the edge that knock was on your door.

↪ given that we’re inside the reader’s head, we react to things as she does and it’s not stiff, it’s so fucking organic the way things unfold and develop that ugh it almost makes me frustrated.

↪ and that’s why i love dal segno too. the chapter is intense not because of what happens per say or the bits of information we get, but because of how you translate those events to the page and we are 100% on yoongi’s shoes. i’m behind on my reviews (yours and all the other fics i’m reading), but i can’t wait to get to dal segno and just fight you.

⇝ i don’t have anything specific here to point, other than i thought it was a really smart sequence:

Doors slam a lot louder when they’re huge.

And leave a more prominent silence, too.

↪ again, nothing specific, just nice and creative sentencing that had me scrunching up my nose thinking like “damn, she writes so fucking well, not a single word is wasted to create or further establish mood and atmosphere”:

Triple, layered, compounded silence.

↪ same here. actually here i like how you interject their smut with this reality clashes. how the brother is a looming presence whenever they are together:

Doesn’t he know he’s on severely borrowed, stolen time?

↪ and one more, ‘cus this is just poetic prose at its finest:

So neither do you, simply gazing up at your favorite stars and wondering how their beholder outshines every moon.

⇝ this is something that you do all the time, but i just love how you reveal stuff in ways and in moments that we’re too in our heads to notice:

“I— Got something at the jeweler.” Lamely waving one hand in the air, you feign normalcy as you just tell the truth. “When we all went together.”

THINGS TO CONSIDER

⇝ this one took me a while to figure, but i know it couldn’t be random:

A hushed conversation determined that Yoongi would only stay for a few more minutes, but neither of you bring it up when a whole seventeen of them fly by.

↪ but then i remembered:

⇝ we don’t know when the chapter is happening, but reading it after forfeit lead to some bittersweet moments, like:

“I’ll just take you here myself.”

His look of confidence has you averting your gaze in an instant.

“Just us.”

Tonight has taken too many turns into madness. He’s joking, right? It’s not enough to sneak into your room with your door completely unlocked, huh?

No. He’s not serious. You both know that’s the longest shot in history, especially considering your situationship isn’t even fully fleshed out.

But it’s nice to pretend.

Especially when he sounds so sure it’ll be real someday.

↪ the fact she calls it a situationship (although i get the necessity to make it official), and how she doesn’t really seem to see a future for them… i don’t know, it just made me kinda sad. like when she mentions never telling her brother about their relationship:

Because this little secret cannot be revealed. Not yet, at least. Maybe not ever since your brother would probably riot.

↪ and even after everything that goes down:

…As long as you can keep whatever this is with him up.

↪ although, after the three of them interact and it’s nice and familiar and cozy, she does start to consider it, maybe after having her insecurities dealt with and all, but stil...:

And maybe. Just maybe.

You and Yoongi can stand much closer next season.

⇝ we see reader might also have some sides she's not shown yet. we see how she wants to dom yoongi, how — given the fact that yoongi made her feel comfortable in her sexuality — she acts up and talks stuff too how she said in flutter that she wants to! and i mean:

You’ve been wanting to do this for so long—longer than you’ll ever, ever divulge. All the nights you spent touching yourself imagining him watching from your desk, or even right beside you on the bed, whispering things that you will never admit that you thought of yourself.

↪ i know we’re all super hyped to see yoongi’s full form, but damn… i think we might be overlooking reader a lil bit too:

Not only that. It’s also reaching into you and unearthing parts that you wouldn’t dare show anyone else. If you were honest, you’re a bit frightened at the thoughts dripping into your mind, coalescing into a dark, wonderful pool.

↪ or:

“Lemme take them off.”

“Why should I?”

“Let me do it and I’ll show you.”

↪ and even:

When you fling the shirt towards him, he doesn’t move an inch as it reaches his shoes.

↪ i mean, ffs:

And you feel it. Your defiance. Coming out once more before you can even stop it, “Being put in your place—”

↪ also this made me think this happens at least some months after flutter, ‘cus then she voiced a desire she has to talk more about what she wants and here she does it pretty easily (considering how hard it was for her then).

⇝ i kinda wanna see more of just yoongi and bro talking. i don’t think we’ve ever had an interaction with them without the reader listening. the same goes for reader and bro, even if we have some scenes already, their dynamic if very interesting to me, the way they trust and know each other so well, and how much they must’ve been through and it translates in every interaction:

“I mean, this trip is cool and all, but holidays aren’t really…”

“Our thing. Yeah.”

⇝ this caught my attention, but if i’m being honest i didn’t get it 😭 at first i thought it was because she said she wanted to forget her name, then i assumed it was so it wouldn’t draw brother’s attention, but i’m not sure:

With a passing thought, you just realized that he hadn’t even been using names until then.

⇝ ok, so i do think they lost their parents. ‘cus they are basically alone at the house all the time, they never reach out to their parents and the only people in reader’s and bro’s life are their friends. besides, it’s often said how bro had this pressure of providing for them both and that’s why he had to outperform at college and get a good job right as he was out too. this chapter makes me think they lost them around christmas eight years ago (although even in sidewalk when yoongi and reader were talking about some memories, her parents weren’t mentioned, so who knows really):

You say it’s one of the things you have most in common, but you do kinda want things to be different. Happier. Very much unlike how you felt over the last eight years or so.

⇝ i also think that yoongi’s stolen bracelet has something to do with his ex… but i have nothing to back it up lol

FINAL THOUGHTS

i wanna first thank you. thank you for being this amazing person, this mesmerizing author and this creative being. then i wanna thank you because you actually wrote this ‘cus we… asked. like, honestly what the fuck.

also, i know i went feral commenting every other paragraph, but the more i write my own stuff i just know how much effort and brainpower it takes to write the smallest sentence and anticipating the reactions it’ll get, so i just thought i’d like someone to point those little parts out too. i did, however, cut out a bunch of stuff ‘cus it was definitely way too long, like. really lmao

anyway, you are incredible. as a author, to define you, i… well you are [insert lady gaga clip] talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique and… i just really admire you.

the window (3tan) (m) | myg

title:the window (m) pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f) series:masterlist | three tangerines | fireworks | house party | basketball | stay | sidewalk talk | friends | dalo | like that | anytime | sundress season | yoongi’s interlude | forfeit | flutter rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , fluff , smut ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: you get to spend the holidays in a lavish private lodge with your brother and all his friends. but you’re just really fucking sad tonight… and maybe a bit mad, too. note: so in order to not fall more behind than i already am, i went ahead and combined both holiday specials into one🥃this one came about due to window anon’s reminder about yoongi’s window threat, and everyone that proceeded to cause outright chaos all day after that. so if you want someone to yell at for this, yell at them!!! note 2: this is a holiday special! therefore where it fits/if it fits in future canon is not disclosed. so this can be enjoyed as a one-shot, but i still highly recommend reading all the three tangerines series if you haven’t yet<3 it’ll make things make a lot more sense. warnings: strong language, alcohol, this yoongi requires his own warning tbh, chains making a comeback who is shocked!!!, or*l (m rec), manhandling, hitting it from the back a ha ha, angst :(((, masturb*tion, exhibiti*nism, omg we’re kinda pissed y’all😳, ….c*ckwarming, rough s*x, slow motion l o l, missi*nary, protected s*x, cmnf (clothed male), pain kink :)), kissing haha, !!!angry!!!s*x!!!!, c*wgirl, light d*m/sub dynamics, tense scenes, bro appearance, body worship, yoongi is deliciously aggravating, but so is brat!reader<333, ch*king (m/f rec), head/hair pulling (m/f), multiple org*sms, yoongi’s fit is basically 2022 grammys have funn🥴, cute af aftercare<3 drop date: january 10th, 2023, 7:17pm est word count: 15.3k bc i can’t stfu !!

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#this is exactly 6072 words omg #anyway hope you enjoyed it #tell me if you like this lol 'cus idk if i'm being a bit extra?? or annoying?? idk i get in my head #luareads

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