#i dunno i just had to gif something but i dont really have time for anything so here you go | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thisgirlnamedblusy · 4 months ago

Note

♡ Hiya Blusy! hope ur not too overwhelmed with requests, sendin' love, support and appreciation over from the great land of Chuck-E-Cheese. ♡

anyways, onto the request.

Prompt where Hyper-femme, Fem!Reader, (obviously) who is already in an established relationship with Donna, who always likes to dress cute, as to look vaguely like a porcelaine doll for Donna (and Angie, because, that doll just loves sneaking into Readers poofy petticoats and scaring the living shit out of Reader when they grab the petticoat out of the closet, for wearing), one day, decides to up her (Readers) game by going into town, or in this case, village, buying some cute, ruffly, pastel (pink, white, yellow, ya name it!) fabrics, with a variety of textures, and colours, and means of usage (such as, fabric for a bonnet, fabric for a dress, thin, stretchy material cloth for stockings), sewing (Reader knows how to sew) themselves a VERRRYYY doll looking outfit (poofy tea dress, bonnet, bright colours that clash yet dont clash, curled hair, to resemble those antique dolls with bottle-curled locks, -- Imagine Lolita-wear, basically),

Reader also gets prim-and-proper, by fluffing on those white powder, makeup thingies (the one lottie uses in princess and the frog?? Sorry, non-english speaker, dunno what that is) and whatnot, to REALLY drive into that doll-y aesthetic

Reader suprises Donna, who, at the time, was just innocently reading,

Donna looks at Reader and just starts like, violently sobbing, because of how, 'Reader did so much to look like the stuff she likes!! She doesnt deserve them!!' (If that makes you uncomftorable to write, replace it with something more mellow)

Reader comforts Donna, through giggles, because of how ridiculous she sounded, -- reassuring Donna that she wasnt laughing at her, but at how stupid her reasoning for crying was, because, ofcourse she would dress cute if Donna liked it?? Reader would wear a trash bag if Donna had asked them to, no questions asked! (Okay.. maybe a little bit dramatic, Reader is an eloquent, feminine, 'pink! Pink! Pink!' lady that wouldnt dare to approach black clothing to wear herself, but, you get the point)

Reader promises to Donna that it was no hassel to make herself so pretty, -- 'sewing is a breeze! I love makeup! I just really like those doll vibes..'

Reader also promises Donna that, she'd love to doll (aha, get it?) herself up for Donna every once in awhile, because Reader just loves Donna, and how cute they feel in their respective style, so much, that they just HAVE to.

After Donna had calmed down from that whole 'you sewed yourself stuff for me??!!??! You put on makeup for me??!?@ you did your hair for me?!??!?@??@?!' crisis (again, if that makes you uncomftorable, mellow it down!! No worries!! 💞), and, plopped Reader onto her lap whilst she finished working on her dolls, taking pauses to kiss, and appreciate, and maybe shed some more self-concious, overly-thankful, singular tears, every once in a while --

The end result? A doll that, for some reason, really resembled how reader looked .. down to every scar, and fold, and pocket on Readers body, or bonnet, or dress.

Huh.. weird!

I ask of you to make this just mildly-sfw (meaning, kisses, carresses, etc are okay), -- not smutty or anything, if thats okay! Just cotton-candishly fluffy.

Hope my writing isnt too confusing? Dyslexic, non-english speaking, neurodivergant mess. Aha, please laugh! Anyways, write-ya later, alligator!

-- Chuck-E-Cheese employee, Anon 🐭

Yesss!!!! Thank you for your funny words :D and also for your request!!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!! :))))

Doll face

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: fluff,

Word count: 7,440

Summary: She loved you, she loved her dolls... Maybe it was time to put those two things together...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))

Another day began and you walked slowly towards the living room. The sound of your heels bounced off the wood like an elegant music that accompanied each morning. Before getting close enough, you looked at yourself in the mirror to make sure everything was in its place. You couldn't help it, you were always like that.

Every morning was a confirmation for you that your life went on, that you could continue to light up that dark mansion with your joy. The bright colors of your dress always contrasted with the sadness of those dilapidated walls, with the darkness that you, every day, tried to eliminate.

Being born with the gift of joy and color could seem strange in a place like that. The village always played with the same color palette, everything was white, black, gray... There was nothing that could stand out, that could change the sinister atmosphere of the place where you were born.

You always went against those principles, against the gray, the black, the darkness. Your friends envied you and you knew it. It wasn't your beauty, your intelligence or your skills, no, they envied your colorful way of facing life.

Proud of your femininity, you always looked for a way to put on makeup, to dress in an elegant and striking way. It was your style, yes, but also a hobby. Playing with darkness, facing it became almost an addiction.

You spent your days sewing, putting on makeup, telling the world that if it wanted to be black it would have to walk all over you. Joy, elegance and the desire to feel different, that was your motivation when you got up every morning.

The masses, the Black Gods didn't seem bothered, quite the opposite. Everything in your life went well, or so you thought, since you always saw the good side of things. Being happy was quite an achievement in a place like that and appearance was the first step to prove it, to stand out in a world of shadows.

But that different attitude had consequences. You were not shunned by the village. They didn't look at you with dangerous eyes, quite the opposite. Wherever you went, you attracted attention, you caught the eyes of everyone who was present, villager or even...Lord.

Yes, you noticed how the gazes of the four of them were fixed on you. One of them seemed more interested, unable to take her gaze off you.

Like a ghost, like the complete opposite of you, that black figure always followed you with its gaze. You couldn't know how, you couldn't see her eyes. A woman in mourning, covered by a black veil, a sinister doll... The dollmaker, Donna Beneviento.

At first you thought it was just another look, that the always bright tones of your clothes blinded her vision, bothered her. It didn't take long for you to find out that it was precisely the opposite.

Your joy, your determination to look good, to stand out from the boring crowd was what really caught her attention, what made her approach you with curiosity. That was the first step towards a perfect future.

It might seem that you two were like water and oil, like light and darkness, but perhaps that was precisely what made you slowly become addicted to her. You had much more in common than it might seem at first.

You both loved sewing, beauty... Well, really, when that black veil disappeared, when Lady Beneviento showed her deformed face to you, you began to know what beauty really was.

She was a beautiful woman, really beautiful, she just didn't know it. You did, and you wouldn't let a second go by without reminding her, always. That contrast of black and pink, of paleness and color was perfect, a perfect mix that ended up leading to a kiss, a kiss that said much more than any clumsy word.

And so, time went by and your relationship settled comfortably. You even left your old home for that sad and dull mansion, with the certain objective that your presence would bring the light that it needed, that joy that was missing in that place, in that woman.

Donna was a dark just like her clothes. Her problems and misfortunes turned her into a wandering spirit, into a lonely entity waiting for the days to end. Your arrival didn’t change that erratic attitude, nor her inevitable madness.

You weren’t going to lose her. You were not going to let the darkness invade you too. You would be like a lifeguard, like the light that illuminates a dark path, showing the way out of a labyrinth of sadness and bitterness.

Despite those problems, despite the constant mockery of the Angie doll, you were happy, you couldn’t help being happier than ever. You would do anything for Donna and she would do it for you. An unexpected love, but one you would never let go of, ever.

“Good morning,” you hummed as you approached the table, always sporting the same bright smile. A fake smile to look elegant or to pretend? No, not at all, it was a genuine smile, one that always achieved the desired effect, that the lady in black would return one of hers.

“Ciao, tesoro…” Donna replied, leaving her coffee cup to extend her hand towards you, one that you took and caressed, letting yourself be carried away by the subtle pull that took you to her lips, placing them on yours cautiously. “Good morning…”

“Did you sleep well?” you asked, reluctantly abandoning those lips, going around the table and sitting in your chair.

Her gaze rose to yours, nodding as she poured you a cup of coffee.

“As always when I'm with you,” the lady said, with a slight blush on her cheeks, a reaction of her body that, despite all the time, she couldn't avoid.

“Mm, okay,” you said amused, causing a shy laugh from the woman in black. “Today is a splendid day.”

“Yes, it really is,” she murmured, nodding slowly.

“We could go for a walk,” you suggested, spreading jam on one of the toasts, a strawberry jam that, unintentionally, matched perfectly with your clothes, as always.

Maybe the color and you had a much more special relationship than you thought.

Donna shook her head, making that smile she always put on when she saw you, disappear.

“I have a lot of work, (Y/N), I don't think I can,” she commented with a serious tone.

You tilted your head, frowning.

“What a shame, because I have to go to the village and it would have been great if you came with me… So I could show off a little bit about you,” you said, pretending to pout as the lady laughed again.

“In any case, tesoro, I would be the one to show off about you,” Donna murmured, looking at you with a mischievous smile behind her cup.

You bit your lip and sighed, blinking in a petulant and romantic way.

“You never get tired of being adorable, do you?” you said amused. “Anyway, I really have to go to the village.”

“Do you have to go? What do you need?” she asked curiously, continuing with her breakfast, repressing all those words and flattery that always interrupted any conversation.

“Look at this dress,” you said frowning and pointing at your clothes. “It's already pretty old.”

“Old?” the lady asked, looking at you confused. “I thought you got it last year.”

“Mm yeah, but… I don’t know, today I woke up really, really wanting to sew,” you sighed, looking up at the ceiling, remembering all the designs you had thought of while you were taking a shower.

“Oh,” she murmured, arching her eyebrow. “If you’re so willing to sew, you could help me with my dolls.”

“Really?” you asked surprised. It was the first time she asked you something like that. Her dolls were something almost sacred to her. She would never let a stranger intervene in their creations.

“You sew very well, I think you could be of help to me,” she commented passively, taking a toast, looking away in a subtle way. “If it’s okay with you, of course.”

“I think it’s a great idea, Donna,” you said enthusiastically.

Actually, going down to that dark workshop was something you tried to avoid, but at first you had no choice. Your love for sewing forced you to hide your pride and spend hours with Donna in that sinister place.

Over time, the lady in black agreed to let you use the guest room for your sewing work, one blessed with sunlight, much better.

But that day you had no choice but to go down to that horrible basement.

“Are you comfortable, tesoro?” Donna asked, putting a chair next to hers and indicating you to sit down.

You nodded, earning a soft kiss on the lips, one that you deepened, making the lady in black give a shy laugh to your ears.

“Take these fabrics,” she indicated, sitting in front of the old sewing machine and giving you an assortment of dark fabric that you looked at with disdain.

It didn't matter how much you loved Donna. You liked how that black dress framed her figure but that color was still your worst enemy.

“Let's see…” you whispered, looking at each of the colors with reluctance. “Hey, Donna, are you going to use these colors?”

“Mm, I always use those colors,” she explained, looking for something in the notes of an old notebook and showing it to you. “Look, I'm sure that dress over there won't be a problem for you, do you understand what it says?”

You looked at the notes and with a small effort, you nodded pleased.

“Luckily Angie has taught me,” you commented amused, translating those elegant words written in Italian. Donna smiled pleased, getting a little closer to you.

“Always try to embroider it…Mm… This way,” she indicated, turning a few pages and showing you the designs.

“Okay…” you sighed in an exaggerated way, looking sideways at the black fabrics.

“Is something wrong, tesoro?” the lady asked, alerted by your sudden reluctance. “You, you don't have to help me… If, if you want to go to the village…”

“Oh no, it's not that, I'd love to help you Donna, but it's just…” you whispered, biting your lip and picking up one of the cloths. “Does it really have to be black?”

“Yes,” she said, with a concentrated expression, moving away a little and observing a porcelain head. “If you don't like it you can make it grey, I don't really care.”

“Grey…” you sighed with a tired look, glancing at a few dolls on a shelf, all of them sad, dark, depressing… “Have you never thought about giving them a bit of color?”

“Color?” she asked in a low voice, skillfully mixing paint and cleaning the imperfections of that lifeless head. “I don't understand you.”

“Always grey, black… Donna…” you sighed, drawing her attention. “What harm can it do to a doll to not look like it has in a funeral?”

“Explain yourself,” the lady murmured, painting the lips of that head, barely listening to you.

“You should use pink, or white for your dolls' dresses, they would surely look much better,” you said, nodding, touching the soft black fabric and hoping that the darkness wouldn't spread to your dress.

“Oh, I didn't know you made dolls,” Donna said with irony and a mocking smile.

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head.

“Donna, color gives a lot of joy to everything,” you said, leaning on the table and guiding her head to look at you. She sighed annoyed, putting down the head and crossing her arms.

“If I want to see colors, I just need to look at you,” she joked, frowning, with an intriguing smile.

“Thanks,” you said amused, blinking flirtatiously.

Donna laughed too, but looked away.

“I like my dolls just the way they are,” she said quietly, going back to painting the head. “It’s my style.”

“Oh, okay…” you said with a mocking look, starting to draw patterns on the black fabric. “Well, your style is very bland, honey.”

“Bland… have you come to help or criticize me?” she asked, her tone a bit colder, but with her smile telling you she wasn’t upset.

“It’s constructive criticism,” you commented, getting up from your chair and walking over to one of the shelves, picking up a random doll. “Look at this one. Isn’t she supposed to be having tea?”

Donna turned to look at you and tilted her head with a sigh.

“It seems so,” she murmured.

“Well, she should have a white and red frilly dress with a matching pretty hat, not a boring dark grey dress,” you said, looking at the doll's fabric.

“Then she would look like you,” she said as you sat back down, shrugging.

“Oh, you don't like the way I dress?” you asked with a feigned look of shock and offense, cutting the black fabric to shape that boring dress.

“You're not a doll,” Donna whispered, glancing at you out of the corner of her eye.

A wide smile spread across your face and you leaned towards her ear.

“Oh, would you like it?” you whispered, kissing her ear softly before returning to your task.

The lady in black looked at you briefly, about to say something. She apparently changed her mind at the last moment and laughed softly, shaking her head.

“If you were my doll…” Donna murmured, after a moment of calm and silent work. It seemed that this innocent question was floating around in her head, something that caught your attention. “You would wear black clothes.”

“Mm, that's what you say now,” you said defiantly, sewing the sleeves of the black dress, afraid that this horrible color would cause an allergic reaction on your skin. “I'm convinced that once you try to leave the safety of these horrible colors you will no longer want to go back to black.”

“You are very sure of yourself,” she murmured amused, coming closer to kiss you slowly, something she always did when she couldn't prove you were wrong. “But I'm afraid you're not a doll.”

“Well, that can be possible,” you said to yourself. The lady blinked in confusion, but returned to her work.

The morning passed quietly. You sighed in relief when you finished that hideous black dress, one that Donna looked at closely.

“Do you like it?” you asked expectantly.

She nodded pleased.

“Good job, (Y/N)…” she sighed, placing the dress to give it some final touches.

“Brr…” you said, pretending to shiver. “I think I need a walk, that horrible color has stressed me out.”

“You're so exaggerated, tesoro,” Donna joked as you stood up, pretending disgust at that black fabric. “Are you going to the village?”

“Yes…” you sighed, stretching in an exaggerated way. “Do you want something?”

“No,” she said with a dry tone, looking away.

“Are you sure you don't want some colored fabrics?” you asked, leaning over one of her shoulders, opening your eyes like a puppy.

She smiled, pinching your cheek and kissing you before shaking her head.

“Whatever, don’t complain if people stop buying your dolls,” you said in an ironic tone, slowly moving away, stopped by a hand in yours, which kept you in place.

“All my dolls are sold, (Y/N),” she told you, in a somber tone, indicating that you had managed to offend her. Luckily, you were used to playing with the doll maker.

“Right, maybe it's because you're the only doll maker in the village and also a Lord. You could put a ball of wool on a stick, call it a doll, and the village children would buy it,” you joked, blinking cockily.

Donna growled, letting your hand go abruptly.

“Why don't you just leave now?” she asked in a dark tone, turning away so as not to make eye contact with you.

“Oh, are you kicking me out?” you said defiantly.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Don't tell me how to do my job.”

“I'm just advising you... If you make all your dolls the same, where's the originality?” you asked, insisting without fear. Donna would never blow up over something like that, and you knew it.

“(Y/N)…” the lady hissed.

“Okay, okay, I'm leaving,” you said amused, approaching again, surrounding her by the shoulders in an annoying hug and repeatedly kissing her cheek, causing her to laugh as she tried to escape from your kissing attack.

“Hey, lasciami…” she protested while laughing.

You obeyed, but when you moved away you felt a strong tug on your wrist that brought you back to the lady, kissing you in a deeper way.

“Actually, I would like you to be a doll…”

“Oh, would you?” you asked amused, playing with her hands. She nodded with a dark look, pulling you closer to her ear.

“Mm, if you were a doll you surely wouldn't say nonsense,” she joked with a sensual tone.

You responded by giving her shoulder a protest hit while she laughed amused.

“Oh, okay, okay,” you sighed, crossing your arms and walking towards the doors. “But you know what? I would be the prettiest doll, and the most colorful…”

Donna shook her head, sighing, giving you a tender smile, a completely in love look.

“Ti amo, (Y/N),” she said without looking at you.

“Oh, Donna…” you murmured, with all your cheesy side forcing you to get closer again, giving one last kiss to the brunette. “I love you, I love you, I love you…”

“Go away,” she said amused, struggling again with your excessive affection.

You nodded and obeyed, walking happily towards the bedroom. Of course, you couldn't leave the mansion without putting on makeup and spending excessive time to find something that matched your clothes.

You sighed as you carelessly opened the closet. You'll be wondering ‘Why careless?’ simple, because there was someone else in that house, someone who liked to scare you.

“Are you looking for something?” a sinister voice came out of the closet, hidden among your clothes. “Because if you were looking for me, you've found me, you fool!”

“Ah, Angie!” you said with a hand on your chest, startled by the sudden appearance of Donna's doll, peeking out from your clothes like every morning.

You didn't know if Angie scared you because she hated you, or because it was her way of having fun. You really doubted that doll had anything against you, after all, you came into Donna's life to make her happy and that is something that, discreetly, Angie would always thank you for.

“Scare, scare...” the doll mocked, humming triumphantly.

You smiled, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms.

“You're going to wrinkle my clothes,” you said amused, gesturing to the doll to get out of there.

“What are you looking for, silly? An accessory?” Angie asked, shuffling through your colorful dresses.

“A coat that matches this,” you said with disinterest while the doll continued to shuffle through the clothes. “Oh, wait, that one,” you interrupted, taking the garment that the doll held expectantly.

“Another day in which Great Angie helps you with your clothes,” the doll said laughing and getting off the furniture with a comical jump. “You're welcome, loser.”

“Thanks…” you said with a falsely elegant tone, putting that pink coat on the bed.

Then you walked to the old dresser, thus beginning another of your makeup sessions.

“Can I help you, silly?” Angie asked, sitting at the small table and taking your utensils.

“Okay,” you said smiling, gathering your hair. “Bring me that powder over there.”

The doll obeyed and silence reigned again in the mansion.

“Hey, Angie,” you said, glancing at the doll, at her white dress. “I think you're the only doll that doesn't wear black. It doesn't seem that Donna made you.”

“Donna didn't make me, you fool!” the puppet protested, startling you, making you growl. That was the moment when you were putting on eye makeup, it was dangerous.

“No? I thought so,” you commented, getting a little closer to the mirror.

“No, silly, silly, her father made me,” Angie commented, watching you from very close, watching you put on makeup.

“Oh, I didn't know that,” you commented, preparing the blush. “But I shouldn't be surprised. She would never make a doll in a color different than black or gray.”

“Do you have a problem with the way my Donna works? Because if so, get ready for a fight,” she said, moving her fists comically.

“No, no,” you said amused, moving your hands away from the doll as you put the blush on your cheeks. “I just can't explain her aversion to color.”

“Donna doesn't have an aversion to color,” Angie said, leaving you some room.

“Mm, well, it seems like it... Has she never made a doll in a different color...? A more cheerful one?” you asked curiously, distracting you too much from your makeup session.

“No,” the doll said shrugging. “But why would she want to do that? She already has you.”

“I'm not a doll,” you said amused, shaking your head, looking at yourself in the mirror, puzzled.

“Are you sure? Because you look like one…” Angie said amused, pointing at the mirror.

“What's wrong?” you asked, frowning. “Oh, too much lipstick…”

“Too much blush…” the doll added, making you sigh and take a piece of cotton to fix that mess.

“Yes…”

“Now you are a doll,” she said amused, making you look at her confused. “I'm sure Donna will go crazy if she sees you like this.”

“Oh, you think so?” you asked, looking at yourself carefully and correcting some imperfections in your makeup. “She already has hundreds of dolls. She doesn't need another one… right?”

“What nonsense, if Donna is obsessed with those dolls it's because she loves them,” Angie commented. “I don't understand why, I'm infinitely better than them, in every way.”

You laughed amused, with an absurd idea going through your head. If Donna liked dolls that much… How would she react if you really looked like one of them? Curiosity was much stronger than rational thought and it was never a bad chance to make the lady in black smile.

“So…” you murmured, putting away your makeup. “Do you think Donna will love seeing me like this?”

“Oh, sure,” the doll nodded, crossing your arms. “But, but, wait, I didn't say anything. Don't tell her…” she said hastily. “Donna hates when I read her mind.”

“Mm…” you murmured thoughtfully, excited by the idea of testing that statement. If you were successful… Well, your mind was already taking care of the rest.

After putting on your bright and elegant coat, you went up the elevator, finding Donna by surprise. She seemed to be reading something at her desk.

“Honey,” you said with a wide smile, walking slowly towards her and leaning over the furniture. “Weren't you with your dolls?”

“No, obviously I’m not anymore,” she said, with a cold tone, reluctantly letting you kiss her cheek softly, accidentally marking it with your lipstick.

“Oh, I'm sorry,” you said amused, running a hand over her painted cheek. “What are you reading?”

“Niente,” the lady said, nervously covering a strange catalogue, something that made you suspicious.

“That seems like a lie to me, dolcezza…” you joked. “Let me see, please, please…” you said insistently with a high-pitched, pleading tone.

Your extremely cheesy and affectionate gestures had an effect on the brunette, forcing her to give in with an annoyed grunt.

“Wow…” you whispered, looking at that old catalogue of dolls, some very different from Donna's. “I see that my words have had an effect.”

“Sometimes I think you're a witch,” the lady commented while you looked at one of those dolls, one with a white dress, with ruffles, terribly adorable. Your mind was already working on ideas, but you still didn't know exactly which ones.

“A witch?” you asked amused, bringing the catalogue closer to your eyes, memorizing every detail of that pompous doll. “I'm just saying what I think.”

“Mm, yes, and you make me think,” Donna whispered, looking up and opening her eye wide when it made contact with yours. “(Y/N), tesoro…” she sighed, mouth agape.

“What's wrong, darling?” you asked passively, leaving the magazine on the desk again, meeting the doll maker's dazed gaze.

“You look… beautiful…” she said in a surprised voice, looking at each and every detail of your exaggerated makeup. “You look beautiful, today, tesoro…”

“Do you really think so?” you asked, surprised by that unexpected reaction. Donna nodded softly, with a tender look.

“Yes, you are, I don't know, different,” the lady commented, taking your hands and swinging them with hers. “I, I like the way you've put on your makeup.”

“Oh…” you sighed, blushing at the compliment and at the reaction that your doll look had the desired effect, even better. “Well, I thought it was too much blush…”

“No, you look, you look gorgeous…” Donna said, pulling your body so she could kiss you softly.

“Donna, the lipstick…” you joked, moving away from that tender kiss.

“I'm sorry, I got carried away,” the lady in black apologized. “Your beauty never ceases to amaze me.”

“Mm, could it be that I remind you of a doll?” you asked amused, tilting your head with your hands on your waist.

“Maybe,” she murmured, distracted again by that catalogue, confirming your suspicions. “La mia bellisima bambola”

Well, now you could put into practice those ideas that were traveling alone through your mind.

“Okay, Don, I could spend the rest of the day letting you tell me such nice things but… I'm afraid I have to go to the village.”

“Don't call me Don, I hate it,” she protested, receiving in response a wink and an elegant turn that made your dress dance in a hypnotic way.

“Okay, you grumpy spaghetti…” you sighed amused, looking at Angie. “Are you coming with me, Angie?”

“Bah, I don't think so, the Duke has the wool balls counted …” the doll said, sitting on the lap of her owner, who looked attentively at that catalogue, with a sweet smile.

Humming, you walked through the forest. The bright colors of your clothes illuminated you among the dull and pale white of the snow. You almost thought you were shining.

Your head worked remembering the colors, the shapes of that porcelain doll you saw in that old photograph. But what you really couldn't forget was Donna's face when she saw you made up like that, noticing your obvious resemblance to a doll.

Seeing that poor tormented woman happy was much more to your liking than sewing, much more than putting on makeup or matching clothes. Donna was your favorite hobby since you met her and besides, each of her smiles was a reward for you. The joy and tenderness of her gaze hid the pain, the suffering, everything she went through before becoming a Lord.

You were definitely completely determined to make her forget, to make every day with you special. It already was but... Maybe that makeup mistake could be useful in the near future.

“Oh, elegance itself approaching my humble carriage...” the Duke murmured when you walked towards him.

You nodded at him kindly, with your hands on your hips.

“Don't flatter me, Duke, I'm not going to pay you more for that,” you said amused. “Fabrics, I need fabrics.”

“Well…” he sighed, laughing satisfied. “Are they for you or for Lady Beneviento?” he asked, taking out a few rolls of fabrics of many colors.

“For me,” you said, coming closer to look for something similar to the doll in that catalog. “Do you have something with ruffles?” you asked curiously, running your hand over a fabric of a color very similar to the one you were looking for.

“Ruffles? Sure…” the merchant said, laughing pleased and showing you what you were looking for. “It doesn't seem like the typical fabric order you usually make me, Miss (Y/N).”

“No, it's for a personal project,” you commented, searching among those fabrics for something that could help you make a matching hat.

“Sounds interesting,” the man commented, with a gloomy look.

“No matter how much discount you give me, I'm not going to tell you anything,” you said amused, knowing the thirst for information that the greedy merchant always had. “Mm... Do you have this fabric in pastel pink?”

“Of course...” the man murmured, taking out the required roll. “By the way, let me tell you that you look beautiful this morning.”

“Wow, thank you,” you said, smiling pleased by the compliment, checking the quality of an elastic fabric that you would use for stockings.

“There's no doubt why Lady Beneviento is completely crazy about you. I always thought that you looked like... Well, don't be offended, one of her dolls,” the Duke commented, laughing amused.

You smiled and raised your eyebrows.

“Mm, do you think that Donna loves me just because I look like one of her dolls?” you joked, crossing your arms.

“I didn't say that, Miss,” he said, making a gesture with his hand. “But it's clear that you know how to please her.”

“Of course,” you said satisfied, picking up a much thicker cloth, perfect for a matching bonnet. “But… I'm not going to tell you anything. I doubt you are interested in my way of pleasing Lady Beneviento.”

“I'm interested in everything, dear,” he joked, to which you gave him a dark but amused look. “Oh, I'm sure these bows are perfect for what you're looking for.”

“Mm, let me see…” you sighed, picking up those showy bows.

Of course that man couldn't even guess what you had in mind, but you shouldn't underestimate him. He wasn't exactly a naive fool.

Satisfied with your purchases, you returned to the mansion, ready to start your little game, one that sounded better and better in your head and that you were eager to put into practice.

Naturally, poor Donna didn't suspect anything. She always tried with all her might not to get involved in your affairs. She rarely succeeded, but that time, luckily, was one of them.

Little by little, taking advantage of a carelessness of the lady in black, you managed to get that old doll catalogue, carefully observing each of the details of that doll chosen for your plans.

An elegant hat surrounded by a yellow bow, white stockings matching patent leather shoes... Definitely a classic doll, but with touches of your own style, replacing that boring white of the original design with a deep pastel pink color.

“Mm…” you hummed as you sewed, with the atypical blessing of sunlight streaming through your makeshift workshop. That guest never-used room that was something like your secret lair. “Let's see…” you murmured, checking the size of the hat, checking that it fit your features perfectly. “Yes, perfect.”

Satisfied, you put that pompous bonnet away in a place where Donna couldn't look and continued with the dress, the part that would take you much longer.

“(Y/N), tesoro,” a voice interrupted your sewing along with some soft knocks on the door. “Amore mio, are you there?”

“Oh, Donna, yes, w-wait a minute,” you said, hastily putting away all your work and opening the door, trying to put your hair up first.

What you were doing didn't matter, you always had to be perfect for her, and you loved being that way.

“Ciao…” she said with a sweet voice when you opened the door, looking at you with that bright eye.

Of course, your makeup didn't change since that day. You always tried to perfect the doll look that provoked those tender sighs, those caresses...

“Hola,” you said amused, enjoying how her gaze ran satisfied over your features. “Do you want something, my love?”

“Oh, well, I wanted to see you but...” she whispered, grabbing you by the waist, lightly pressing your body against hers. “I actually wanted to ask if you were hungry.”

“Hungry? Oh, well, now that you mention it...” you said with a tender smile, biting your lip at the gentle rocking of your bodies. “I’m a bit hungry.”

“You're distracted lately,” the lady commented, placing a lock of hair behind your ear. “What are you up to?”

“Me? Nothing,” you whispered innocently.

Donna smiled mockingly, arching her eyebrow and leaning in to kiss you slowly again.

“You’re a terrible liar,” she whispered playfully, releasing you from her romantic hold. “You spend a lot of time locked up in here, tesoro…”

“Well, spring is coming and I have to hurry if I want to be up to date,” you said in a calm voice, closing the door when the lady in black peeked in to see what was inside.

“Don’t give it so much importance. You look beautiful in anything you wear, cara mia…” Donna whispered romantically, stealing another kiss from you again.

“Hey, I can make something for you if you want… How old is that dress?” you asked playfully, subtly changing the subject and playing with the black fabric. “Don’t you want me to make you a…? I don’t know, a red, or an orange one, or…”

“No, tesoro,” she said, laughing playfully, like every time you hinted at her taking off her horrible mourning dress. “I like this dress.”

“Okay, okay…” you sighed, hanging onto his neck. “But some embroidered flowers…” you murmured, running a hand over her chest.

“I'm not going to put flowers on my dress,” she said, with a more serious look, crossing her arms.

“As you wish, grumpy…” you whispered jokingly, getting her to grab you by the waist again while you resisted, laughing shyly.

“Maybe you don't want me to cook for you,” she mocked, pretending to pout.

“Oh, no, no, um… let's go to the kitchen and I'll help you, okay?” you said, apologizing in a soft tone, earning a kiss on your made-up cheek.

“It'll be a pleasure, doll face…” she whispered, immediately paralyzing and putting on a nervous look. Surely she didn't want to say that, but she said it, to your ears’ delight.

“Mm, what did you call me?” you said, biting your lip and approaching her seductively.

“I'm, I'm sorry,” she apologized nervously. “I didn't mean…”

“You didn't mean to? Well, I liked it, Donna,” you said, turning around, making your dress dance like you knew she liked and walking towards the stairs.

That was one of the many proofs that your doll makeup was working perfectly. Donna looked like she had just met you, she was more in love than ever, watching you whenever she could, telling you those things that made you melt and replacing little by little her usual ‘tesoro’ or ‘dolcezza’ with ‘doll face’, something that wasn’t unpleasant for you at all.

The days went by and your project was almost finished. A last embroidery on your dress was the last piece for your plan.

“Okay… what do you think?” you asked the doll that sat on the small bed, watching your work.

Angie never said anything to her owner under the threat of revealing that, indeed, reading the lady's thoughts was one of her favorite hobbies, as well as scaring you.

“A cheesy, cheesy, cheesy thing,” she said amused. “Aren't there too many ruffles?”

“No… Look, it's almost identical to the model,” you commented, running your hands over the newly finished fabric, playing with those ruffles, caressing them while you turned the magazine so Angie could take a look.

“Hey, but that dress is white!” the puppet protested. “Why did you turn it pink?”

“Look here, it has white fabric underneath, do you see?” you explained, showing the parts inside of the dress, which matched perfectly with the stockings. “Besides, I wanted to give it my own style.”

“Yes, your silly, cheesy, cheesy style,” Angie mocked, moving your new dress curiously.

“Donna likes me being cheesy,” you said, moving the doll away from your new creation and hanging it on under the bonnet, observing the outfit from afar.

“Donna likes anything that has to do with you or her dolls,” Angie corrected, observing the outfit, imitating your posture in a comical way.

“So if we put the two things together…” you said with an expectant voice, satisfied with the final result.

“She's going to have a heart attack, for sure… Uh… That's not your intention, is it?” Angie commented, pointing at you accusingly, to which you simply rolled your eyes, taking the hanger and walking towards the exit.

“Do me a favor and distract Donna, she's reading downstairs, right?” you asked, opening the door cautiously.

“Yes, she is, silly,” the doll said, crossing her arms. “Relax, I'll take care of the silly Donna…”

As expected, Angie kept her word, forcing the lady to chase her after stealing her book. You took advantage of that distraction to go down to the basement and get dressed and well… put the finishing touches on your plan.

“Okay…” you said, looking at yourself in the mirror while putting on your makeup. At first your resemblance to a doll was more or less subtle, but that occasion required a little more powder on your face and blush, more striking lips and of course, a beautiful curly hairstyle.

You already had the golden hair color naturally, but it used to fall down, so curling it was perhaps the most complicated part, but nothing that was out of your reach.

“Perfect, it's wrong for me to say it but... I'm a genius,” you said, adjusting your hat, looking at yourself dressed completely as a doll. “Now let's see what you say, dolcezza...”

The sound of your handmade shoes was pleasant. The clothes were really comfortable, even forgetting about the whole doll thing, it was a beautiful dress that would undoubtedly accompany you from time to time, well, if Donna liked it, of course.

“Honey...” you hummed as you went up the elevator, walking slowly to where the lady in black was, reading innocently.

“Ciao,” she sighed, turning a page, without looking at you. “I thought you were upstairs.”

You laughed shyly, holding the sides of your dress so they moved elegantly as you approached the couch, slowly lowering the brunette's book.

Donna glanced at you briefly and then went back to her book, but that only lasted a second, the second it took her brain to process your change.

“Mamma mia… (Y/N)…” she sighed with her eye wide open, her jaw dropping slightly. Just for that face, it was worth all the work.

“Do you like my new outfit?” you asked amused, turning around to move your dress, to further hypnotize the paralyzed lady in black. “I've given it a little more personal touch…”

“But, but, but…” Donna stammered, slowly getting up. “(Y/N)… Sei come una bambola…”

“Yeah, well, it's just that I used a doll for the design, I don't know why, I thought you would like it, what do you think, honey?” you said passively, not giving importance to Donna's apparent nervousness.

“It's, it's incredible…” she stammered, grabbing your hand and giving you an elegant spin, touching, brushing the fabric, caressing your curls. “D-Did you make it?”

“Of course,” you said smiling, enjoying her exploratory caresses. “I know how much you like your dolls, so I thought that maybe seeing me almost turned into one of them would make you happy,” you explained, putting a hand on her cheek so she would look into your eyes. “Do you like it, my love?”

“W-Wait,” she said, blinking confusedly, moving away. “Do you mean that you…? That you… You did it this for me?” she asked, increasingly nervous, a reaction that you didn’t expect.

“Of course, darling… I like to make you happy. I'm not going to say that it has not taken me a lot of work but, well, you already know how easy it is for me to sew and… Donna?”

You stopped talking when you heard a sob, when you saw the sadness in the brunette's eye, an inexplicable one. You got a little closer to her. Poor Donna seemed unable to stop crying.

“My love, what's wrong?” you asked with a sweet voice, worried about her reaction. “Don't cry, Donna…”

“Y-You have, have, have you done that…? For me?” the lady in black repeated, with a voice broken by that irrational crying. “Just for me? But, but… You, you've been sewing for weeks and… You've put on makeup like that and… And… Just for me?”

When you realized what the reason for her crying was, you sighed in relief, lifting her chin and laughing amused.

“Donna… Of course I did it for you…” you said between soft laughs, wiping away her tears.

“But, but, tesoro… You didn't have to… You didn't have to try that hard… For, for me…” she stammered again, shaking her head.

You laughed a bit louder, causing the lady in black to protest by kicking the floor.

“Don't laugh at me,” she hissed, wiping her tears herself, looking at you in annoyance.

“I'm not laughing at you, darling,” you said, cupping her face in your hands. “I laugh at how absurd those tears are,” you whispered in a soft voice, coming closer to lightly place your lips on hers, in an almost imperceptible kiss.

“How do you want me not to cry? You, you know how much I like dolls and, and, you, you sewed that for me, you put on that outfit for me… Just to make me happy… I, I don't deserve you, (Y/N), I don't deserve you!”

“Shhh, don't yell, my precious Donna…” you said, calming that incipient crisis with more kisses, with more caresses. “When will you learn that I would do anything for you? Anything… I don't know, if you asked me to wear a trash bag instead of clothes, I would do it without thinking, or even worse, I would be able to wear something black for you, my love…”

Donna smiled, calming her crying and shaking her head, taking a moment to contemplate you before hugging you lovingly, with all the love she dared to express.

“You are perfect, (Y/N)… Perfect…” she whispered lovingly in your ear, playing with your curls, calming the sobs that still came out of her lips.

“Just because I'm with you,” you said, smiling adorably, perfectly matching your doll look.

“Ti amo, ti amo, ti amo…” the lady repeated, showering you with kisses, caresses… Smiling after that little moment of crisis.

“Hey, the makeup, Donna,” you joked, gently pushing her away. “I love you too, so much…”

The lady looked you up and down again and suddenly frowned.

“I have, I have an idea…” she murmured, taking your hand and starting to walk. “Come with me.”

The two of you went down to the basement and entered the workshop. Donna didn’t say anything, but she seemed nervous, rummaging through her stuff for something you didn’t know about. When she apparently found it, she sat down on her chair, pulling your hand.

“Will you sit with me, doll face?” she asked you kindly, guiding you to sit on her lap, which you did happily.

Without saying anything to you, she began to work on a porcelain body. She seemed focused, but she was easily distracted by your kisses, the ones she gave you from time to time, with a tear running down her cheek.

“Mm,” you murmured, dying of love for those displays of affection, for those tender kisses that soothed your skin.

“(Y/N), do you have any fabric left in that color?” Donna asked pointing to your dress, after shaping the curly mane of an upcoming doll.

You brought her everything she asked for and as the hours passed, which seemed too short for you, you began to sense what she was doing. Your same hairstyle, your same dress, the stockings, the hat… Everything was reflected in miniature in that doll.

“Is it me?” you asked in a sweet voice, placing yourself well on her lap. She looked at you and nodded pleased, handing you the doll. “Donna, it's incredible… She has the same spot as me,” you said amazed by her mastery, by having replicated you in such a perfect way.

“You were right, (Y/N), the color suits the dolls well,” she said, kissing you sweetly on the lips. “It's a gift for you, amore mio…”

“Wow… It's amazing, Donna, I don't know what to say…”

“Just say that you will continue being the way you are… That you will be my favorite doll forever…”

#donna beneviento #donna beneviento x reader #re8 donna #re8 village #oneshot #requests

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biinkuuo · 2 months ago

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Confession

Chifuyu x Fem!reader

Hello! its been a long time since i posted but i was really inspired by some fanfics I read and since my Jim headcanons were received very well, i decided to do a fic of chifuyu :3

You and Chifuyu had been bestfriends forever, ever since you can remember, you used to have so much fun with him, Baji, Ryusei and the rest of the gang.

You always had a bit of an intrest for Chifuyu, and not the friendly kind, a more... romantic kind? You didnt want to act on it, what if it was just infatuation? what if it ruined your friendship with him? So you decided that for the sake of everyone (and yourself) that you would NEVER confess nor act on those feelings.

But one day, one fatal but beautiful day, Chifuyu confessed to you. Fuyu has always been very cliche, y'know, all those mangas got into his head, so he did the most cliche thing ever, he put a note on your locker, it said "meet me at the rooftop after school, we need to talk".

After your club activities (and going to the bathroom for half an hour to calm yourself down), with your heart on your throat, you started walking up the stairs that led to the rooftop, you could hear every step you took with an echo, your heart thumping and your whole body trembling.

Finally, the top of the stairs, as the doors were staring right back at you you opened them and there he was, Chifuyu, with a love letter in his hands, messy hair, unbuttoned shirt and completely red in the face.

"Oh! o-oh my god, hi, hi, hello, wha-whats up? hey.."

why did he have to be so cute? damn him.

"H-hey Fuyu! um, I received your letter! i-in my locker, uh... what did you want to talk to me about huh? um.. sounded important eh? hehe..."

You laughed uncomfortably, trying to hide your embarrasment, you knew perfectly what he wanted to talk about, sadly, he was way too obvious with his feelings, plus, rooftop? note in the locker? letter with a heart to seal it? c'mon, he couldnt be more obvious.

"W-well.. uuuh... s-shit, im really doing this.. um, so uh... ok.. Y/N, you know we've been friends for a long time right?"

"yeah?..."

"Well" he said, a long sigh leaving his mouth "For a long time now, I've been having some... toughts, about.. us. I.. think... you are an amazing person, magnificent even, and, for some time, those... thoughts.. became something else."

"Fuyu..."

"And you know, lately, we have been spending more time togheter, and I've had so much fun"

"Fuyu."

"So because of this time we've had together, ive developed... something... and I dont want this to ruin what we have now, I love our friendship and i wouldn't trade it for any-"

"Chifuyu!"

"Huh? what? is something wrong?"

"I know, Fuyu." the words sounded more harsh as they were leaving your mouth "You certainly don't hide your feelings very well y'know?"

He seemed a bit disappointed, a sad look on his face as he looked at the floor "Oh... I.. I guess I wasn't huh..." why did he have to be like that, you asked yourself.

"No! nonononononono! it isn't like that Fuyu! I- I like you too! for like.. I dunno, years? since we were like 10, I love the way you're so dorky and cliche, I adore your love for animals and I especially love how... you are.. so... kind and cute and respectful and... pretty" your lovely voice was music to his ears, your words were a warm embrace for his heart.

"W-wait... you-you really mean it?! oh-oh my god! I-I've been dreaming of this moment forever! im the happiest man alive Y/N."

"O-oh Fuyu... stop.. you are making me blush..." your blushing face was so cute for him, he just wanted to kiss you so badly "Say, Y/N, since we.. y'know, are dating now I suppose, can I... kiss you? please."

"Yes, Fuyu.. of course"

Im so sorry if this isnt so good :( I really put a lot of effort on it, I've never done more than headcanons, let me know if you want anymore fics or headcanons! I do NSFW and also SFW :D

Credits to @joontroverted , her baji fic "hate the way you smile" really inspired me! and also credits to @mbbmz , they both really inspired me to write this fic, so thank you!

I would really appreciate likes and reblogs :3

#chifuyu x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo rev x y/n #tokyo revengers #tr chifuyu #chifuyu matsuno #sweet #fluff #chifuyu fluff

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stupidthoughtsinwriting · 2 years ago

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Don't leave me... I'll stay (Loki)

Summary: After an argument causes a rift between Loki and Y/N, the day is spent ignoring the other until Y/N decides to spend the night away from Loki.

Warning: Angst? i dunno what else to put in but angst eheheh. long maybe? this is a very long fic eheheh. ohh and another thing is that this may be prone to mistakes as i dont have anybody to proof this so... ehehhe

Note: eheheeh the liar has finally posted what was promised, precisely a month late or later. eheheh sorry to those who waited, school has taken a lot of my time, I barely open my laptop to work and im rarely here anymore but i've got until the monday off so lets see what i'll do with that eheheh

The context is vague, I apologize but i am complete rubbish at this. at everything really, including writing so eheheh. To those brave souls that braved this whole thing, Thank you! so very deeply, from the bottom of my heart for even showing the slightest bit of interest in my rubbish ideas. Hope you like it and im stopping myself from going any further and prolonging this intro ehehhe, Enjoy!😊

‘No Loki! Just because I have this disease, doesn’t mean you have the right to keep me locked up like some sort of china. I am able to do just about everything I could before I told you and you have no right telling me what I can or cannot do’ you countered his argument but being stubborn, neither of you relented nor ceased.

You were now second guessing whether it was right or not, telling him about the chronic illness you were diagnosed with, but you knew that you did the right thing if you wanted this relationship to have a good foundation. The reaction however… was not how you thought things would go.

It was simple at first. Barely noticeable and could have been mistaken as added doting to his already caring nature with you but overtime, it became more and more obvious how he was setting up these restrictions you never would have agreed on. It only grew ridiculous, and you would have allowed the passive ones, but this was the final straw.

Your patience had worn thin over the entirety of the argument however, as comments grew more rash and the final ‘disapproval’ of your oncoming task was remarked, you snapped. He had no right to restrict you of activities and tasks he thinks are too much for your condition and it only insulted and hurt you to think that he thought you so frail and weak that even simple chores were too much.

‘I am going on this mission, whether you “approve” or not, because just telling you was out of courtesy. I refuse to be told of my restrictions by anyone besides myself. I would have understood your concerns if the situation were more grave, but for the love of God, it’s a simple data extraction.’ You exasperated, growing tired of fighting about something you know he won’t fold on.

‘In an abandoned Hydra base!’ he pointed out, choosing not to acknowledge how you outright dismissed his concern, no matter how much it hurt. ‘You know of the dangers that lurk in those retched lairs and often times there are still those who patrol the premises. You do remember when Rogers and Romanoff were attacked during their little escapade in Camp Leigh, do you not?’

‘Of course, I remember, I’m not a moron’ you snide, glaring daggers at the raven-haired god and you were just about to justify how Barnes was going with you however the comment he let out was the final pull on the thinned thread.

‘Well, you certainly are acting like one’ he mumbled without thinking, turning away. He thought it was low enough so you wouldn’t hear but he thought wrong.

‘I beg your pardon?!’ you all but screeched out of fury. Loki flinched before he turned at the high pitch and fury, he heard from you. He saw the outraged his comment caused in your eyes. The fire that burned in those beautiful orbs of yours was terrifying however, what truly frightened him was how you took a breath, calming yourself and before he could so much as apologize, rolled your eyes and turned away.

‘I’m done’ you raised your hands in surrender, turning your back to him.

‘What do you mean you’re done?’ he asked as fear of losing you threatened his being. You mean everything to him and just the very thought of losing you and him being the very reason you were gone… it opened a holocaust in his mind.

‘This conversation, I am done. I’m ending it before either of us say something or does more damage that there already is’ you yield, busying yourself with tidying up the files you had splayed out all over the floor.

Relief flooded his senses before guilt quickly bore fruit.

He watched as you packed up your work and strode out of the room. It took him a minute, but he followed you out and once he finally reached the living room, he met the sight of you slipping on your trainers and throwing your gadgets, wallet and keys in your bag before moving to the door and slamming it shut.

He stood frozen in the threshold of the hall as he processed what happened. All he wanted was to keep you safe. Never did he think that things would go this bad.

You stormed out of the flat and went to the compound for the briefing you had with Bucky. It was scheduled for tomorrow, but you just could not stay in the flat, not with him, not at the moment. You needed a cool head and quite frankly, yours was blazing.

You called Barnes to reschedule, which he agreed to but before he could ask why, you had already hung up. You needed to calm down, seriously.

You took a scenic route around the city before heading to the facility. You parked at the car park and turned off the vehicle before you let your head fall on the steering wheel. Loki’s’ words really stung but in his own way, you knew he meant well. He loved you but it felt demeaning to be confined to one place or to be babied. You are a grown woman; this disease may affect you in some way but you wouldn’t let it define and control your life like its slowly doing to Loki.

You took your phone to look at the time and was greeted with lock screen background of you and Loki cuddling, fast asleep. Someone from the team took the picture to spite Loki but you found it adorable and set it on your phone. It brought a small grin to your lips until you got a message from Barnes saying which conference room was being used for the quick briefing. You sighed, taking your bag before exiting the car and heading in the building.

The briefing was quick. Only about the layout of the base, where to go and what to take. You were in and out in possibly ten minutes, but you longed for it to be longer. You didn’t want to go home yet so you stayed for a chat with the others, talking to Wanda about her relationship, discussing with Bruce the project he was working on before you went and left with a goodbye, heading for the shops for dinner prep and a bit of groceries, taking your time in each aisle to pass the minute until you really had to go home.

Loki had texted Thor after you left, asking if you were at the compound. It took a bit for his brother to respond but eventually he replied with ‘Barnes says she’s on her way for a meeting’. He felt relieved to at least know where you are, knowing you were safe and not alone somewhere.

Hours passed until he heard your keys on the front door, the metal snake keychain giving a distinct clink with the rest of your keys. He looked to the door from where he sat on the living room, watching as you trudged in the brown bags of groceries. You kicked the door closed and placed the bags in the kitchen bench, never sparing him a look. He could sense that you didn’t want to be around him, he could always sense it. He’s had years of experience with being ignored nor wanted. He knew when to take his leave, so he left for the bedroom, never sparing you a sound of his departure.

You saw Loki on the chaise when you walked in. You blatantly ignored him, but he was on the couch. The only indication you got that he left was when you heard the bedroom door close. You were fixing everything you had bought to the cupboards and the pantry when you just heard the soft click of the door closing. You felt bad with how distant you two were being but what stung more is that he couldn’t bear to be in the same room as you that he had to leave. You wanted to make things right. You were thinking of things to say as you put away the vegetables, but he seemed to want the opposite.

You put everything away and started making supper, finishing an hour or two later. Loki still hasn’t left the bedroom, though you did hear the shower run a few minutes prior, so you ate by yourself, wallowing in your thoughts about the mission and Loki.

Your bowl was half gone when he emerged from the room and moved to where you were eating on the table. You had prepared him a bowl, which now sat at the other end of the table. You weren’t talking to each other, but you still care and love him. The soup had gone a bit cold, but it was there, and he sat and ate it anyways.

Both of you stayed silent, neither breaking the silence as the tension grew thick. You quickly finished the rest of your meal before standing abruptly to start cleaning up. You let the bowl rinse and soak in the sink while you stored the leftovers in a container and to the fridge. You had put more than enough on his bowl, so you were sure he wouldn’t be asking for seconds. You quickly washed the dishes whilst he ate while reading his book. He was nearly done when you left the kitchen and proceeded to the bathroom.

He let out a sigh and dropped his book when he heard the shower running. He has been staring at the very same paragraph over and over but not once has he actually paid attention to the text let alone understood it. He was hoping to break the ice between you two, but he froze, missing his chance.

He rinsed his own dish and made sure everything was good and locked up before he went back to the bedroom, preparing to go to bed.

You came out a few minutes later, steam billowing from the ensuite and following you. Your hair was wrapped up in a towel, your body clad in the oversized jumper you adored, with a nightie underneath. You still refused to acknowledge him as you made your way to the closet, grabbing a spare comforter.

This got Loki’s attention and was what broke the silence of the room, really the silence you have both established since the argument earlier.

‘What are you doing?’ he asked as he stopped fluffing the pillow in his hold. Your pillow.

‘I have a few case files to read and paperwork to do so… I’m staying in the living room’ you stated, hardly with any emotion, tugging at the comforter from the top shelf.

‘And the need for a blanket?’ he questioned again, looking over your well bundled figure. The sweater you had was thick and big enough to cover your legs if you were truly that cold, he knew that and the fact that you only use blankets whenever you were going to sleep.

‘It’s likely I’ll fall asleep on the couch so I’m preparing for the inevitable. To put it bluntly, I’m sleeping on the couch’ you say, finally turning around to see him holding your pillow before you moved to leave the room.

All Loki could do was nod, clenching his jaw as his hands dropped your pillow and watch as you left the room. He couldn’t do anything. He couldn’t will his lips to move in protest and just accepted what was going to happen. He didn’t want to force you seeing how that went earlier, so he let it… you, go do what you wish. He didn’t want to lose you and he’d do anything and everything to avoid that.

He got cleaned up in the bathroom before he went to bed. He couldn’t sleep and for hours he’s spent it staring up at the ceiling. Once he'd learned to sleep with you by his side, it was harder now to do so without you and the lingering thoughts of your fight earlier kept him company.

It took a while before the fatigue finally succumbed to him, his mind too tired to do anything that it finally forfeited and let him rest.

You on the other hand, haven’t slept at all. Not a wink of it. You spent a bit writing up some reports and looking over at some case files but after you found that you couldn’t focus, you packed everything up and tried to get some sleep. Tried. You really did but as tired as your body was, your mind worked wonders in keeping you up.

The fight you had was your fore thought, mainly the look in Loki’s eyes when you said you weren’t sleeping in the same room as him. He always tried to look impassive in front of others but with you, his eyes held so many expressions of love and adoration, you saw none of that as he held your pillow.

You felt bad leaving him alone. The gesture alone of fixing your side of the bed was heart-warming, that it made you feel like a monster when you saw the look he gave you. Of absolute disappointment? It wasn’t the right word, but you felt like you took the one good thing he had and crushed it in front of him.

You tried to stave off such thoughts, thinking of your task for tomorrow and such but it wasn’t any use. Your mind was going miles per minute, and you just couldn’t keep up. You stayed on the couch for hours, laying on the furniture as your eyes stayed transfixed on a spiderweb on the ceiling. You grew restless overtime so the idea of making tea came to mind.

You thought it a good idea for a cup to help you, so you finally got up. You took the towel you used from the coffee table and hung it on a chair as you turned the kettle on. You grabbed a cup from the drying rack and dropped the bag of chamomile you got from the jar, as you waited for the water to boil.

It was then you heard a whimper. It came fast and low, you were beginning to think that you imagined it when you heard it again. You left the cup sitting on the counter as you went to investigate, looking all around the open space of the flat until it finally registered to you that it was coming from the bedroom.

Loki…

Fast steps quickly took you to the door of the room, which was left open and from where you stood, you heard his cries clearly. The room, gloomy when you entered had scarcely any light. The only source came from the dim lighting from the hall and the sliver of moonlight seeping through the curtains, but it was enough to help you at least see figures.

You moved to the general area of where the bed was and there you saw his figure, trembling slightly. From what you saw as your eyes further adjusted to the darkness, he laid on his side, his shirt damp with sweat, his face glistening and his hair sticking all over his neck and cheeks. He had a pillow in his hold, his head buried in the cushion, but the muffled whines and whimpers still persisted to reach your ears. It was your pillow.

It had been a long while since these terrible nightmares have plagued his nights. The last was far too long ago you hardly remembered it anymore. You remember how he once told you about it having something to do with you sleeping by his side. That something about you just calmed him and made his mind come to a peaceful state. The guilt you felt increased tenfold as the regret of leaving him alone ate you alive. You didn’t… you don’t… you couldn’t have imagined how much you had helped him without even realizing and now leaving him to his own devices… you felt like a pompous prick.

You sped to his side, whispering his name in hopes to arouse him but it proved to be futile.

You sat beside him, turning to the side to face figure. A finger reached to tuck the damp locks behinds his ears as you whispered his name again, hoping to get through his thoughts but it still wasn’t working. Your hands moved to cradle the side of his face, your thumb caressing his cheek in hopes to stir him as you continued to say his name.

‘Loki’ you said softly, knowing using any other tone or pitch would only frighten him further. You moved your head next to his, your body twisted in an awkward position, but you couldn’t care less. You continued to whisper his name close to his ear, your thumbs caressing those sharp angled cheeks until he finally stirred.

You felt it. That light shake of his head as he finally starts rouse, as if shaking off fatigue and merciless thoughts that haunted his mind. You pulled away a bit to see him properly, wiping the beads of sweat that coated most of his forehead with the sleeve of your jumper as your other hand continued their gentle caress on his cheeks. He had a furrow that pulled his brows together and normally you would have found it adorable but right now you only hoped to remove it.

He blinked slowly, gathering his bearings to check if he was truly out of the agonizing torment his mind had conjured. He was losing you. It was scene after scene of ways he loses you and all of it was his fault. From you leaving him after an argument, to the image of the mad titan snapping your neck in his grasp as he watched. Each scenario broke him in every way, and he just couldn’t bare it.

The sight was still fresh in his mind as he finally started to ebb away from the drowse of sleep. Then as panic set him as he realized and processed what had happened, he didn’t notice the soft whisper of his name or the caress of your delicate fingers. He was on the verge of complete panic, tears welling up his eyes when he felt it. You.

Your voice. You touch. Your scent. Everything. It all enveloped him to the point It became overwhelming, but he wanted it. To suffocate in everything you, to banish those horrid thoughts away.

‘y/n?’ he whispered meekly, still questioning whether he was still in the throughs of his nightmare.

‘I’m here, It’s okay. It’s just a nightmare’ you replied as tears started to pour from his eyes and cascade down his cheeks.

‘I’m sorry, I-I’m sorry, p-please don’t leave me’ he heaved, his voice shaking with every word, it broke your heart to hear him so broken. His arms moved to wrap around you, having a tight hold on your waist, leaving the pillow, as he wept.

You could only do so much to keep your own tears at bay, but you managed to stay strong. Your fingers wiped much of the tears, but they only continued to flow so you pulled him in to hide in the crook of your neck.

‘Shhh darling. It’s alright, I’m here, I promise’ you said in his ear, knowing his cries would only muffle his hearing. He cried and cried, apologizing just as much in between but you still dismissed every single one.

‘Shhhh, you’re okay darling. It’s only a nightmare, it’s alright’ you moved your body to lay on the bed fully, settling beside him comfortably as you held him tight. Your fingers weaved through his obsidian locks, scratching his scalp in hopes to console and comfort him in anyway as he continued to heave on the crook of your neck.

It broke your heart to see him like this. Frightened to the bone like a little boy, shivering as if dunk in the oceans of the arctic. All those years of suffering topped his insecurities and the lack assurance and consoling care throughout most of his life… of course he was afraid. Of the possibilities this life held. He’d seen the worst parts of it, of course id be difficult to peer outside that little protective box he hid in. And your argument certainly didn’t help matters.

He cried for a while and you let him. Bare his vulnerability to you and it was your honour to be shown this fragile part of him. You’d treasure the trust he had in you, to keep him safe in times like these. You wouldn’t let anything happen to him, especially like this. You love him too much.

He calmed down after a little while, still letting out soft sniffs and whimpers every once and a while, but he had calmed down. You placed a soft kiss on his temple, an assurance of sorts before pulling back to face him but his grip only tightened, a whine escaping his lips as he hid himself further in the safety of your hair.

He didn’t want you to pull away for fear of you having enough of him, but he wouldn’t have it. He couldn’t.

You hushed him softly, running a hand through his inky locks and caressing his scalp, assuring him you weren’t going anywhere and only meant to talk to him. He was reluctant but he gave in, nodding the slightest bit before pulling away to face you.

His face was red, eyes bloodshot and puffy around the eyelids, looking down and anywhere but at you. Streaks of tears, dry and fresh cascaded down his sharp features, causing his unruly hair to stick. The look he gave you completely broke your heart, rendering it to mush whilst he had the decency to look so heartbroken.

You kept your composure as a finger swiped a way those stray locks, tucking it behind his ear before he nuzzled in the warms of your palm. Your thumb glided along the prominent angle of his zygoma, brushing away whatever moisture was left until you tilted his head up, by the chin, to look at you. His beautiful emerald eyes shimmered with unshed tears however he still won’t look you in the eyes.

‘Loki’ his name came off your lips in a soft whisper, finally grabbing his attention. Now that you finally had it though, all words seem to have left you, your thoughts drawing blank. A sigh left your lips as you let your head drop to his, your foreheads pressed together as you closed your eyes.

‘I’m sorry’ you said blankly, your hand rising to come through his locks and to scratch his scalp. Whether it was for his comfort or your distraction, you wouldn’t know.

He shook his head, dismissing your apology. Half of him didn’t know what you were apologizing for yet the other had an idea as to what, and even if it truly was what you were thinking, he knew that it was his fault.

‘No, don’t apologize. It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have treated you as such, but please darling, forgive me. I cannot lose you, please. Don’t… don’t leave me’ he practically begged. He really couldn’t lose you. He just wouldn’t know what to do if he did, but he just knows he won’t survive it.

‘No, I must apologize’ you argued, continuing on before he could cut you off ‘My actions weren’t acceptable, but Loki… We cannot keep going on like this. I am my own person, I refuse to told what to do, let alone what I can’t. I refuse to be caged in the four walls of this flat like some treasured bird, I’m not. I will not be restrained. By some illness nor God or man. This won’t work if that is what you want’.

‘I know, I know. I-It’s not, It’s not what I want. I’m sorry but darling, I just can’t lose you. I can’t. I won’t survive it. Please, I won’t do it again, just please don’t leave me.’ He sobbed, dropping his head back down the crook of your neck and he held you in a tight embrace. You understood what he meant; you don’t think you could survive losing him too.

‘I won’t. I’m not leaving you. I would never. I'm staying’ You affirmed. You really wouldn’t, but you won’t stand being coddled to the brim.

You held on to each other tightly for a while. Just letting the others presence calm one another. Loki hidden in the arch of your shoulder, arms wrapped around your waist, while you laid your head on top of his, a hand mindlessly raking trough his gorgeous locks. It proved to be comforting for the both of you, evidently.

‘I only meant to protect you’ he mumbled with a sniff out of nowhere.

‘I understand, my love. And the best I could do is promise to be safe and extra careful. I won’t take too risky missions if that gives you a peace of mind.’ You offered. You knew he only meant well and cared for your safety. You love your job but often times, it was too dangerous, even for your standards after everything. Taking fewer and safer missions wasn’t a problem. As long as you had worked to do that involved helping people, you were satisfied.

You felt him nod his head lightly at the suggestion, causing a soft smile to bloom from your lips before placing a soft kiss on the crown of his head. You didn’t see it but a small smile curved his lips as well at the feel of your lips on his skin. The touch starved part of him relishing in these small moments of affection like treasure.

Your free hand moved to caress his back when you felt how damp the fabric of his top was. The sweat he had worked up earlier still hasn’t dried and you knew how uncomfortable he would get bathing in the slightest bit of dirt, hence why you thought of getting him cleaned.

You place another kiss on his cheek before attempting to untangle yourself from him. The events of the nights had taxed the god, but you wanted to get him at least a bit clean before he fully dozed off however, as you tried to get off his loving embrace, his grip only tightened, his droopy eyes opening wide to see the commotion.

‘Shhh, It’s alright. I just have to head out to the kitchen to check something and I promise, I will be right back my love’ you said softly to his ear, hoping his drowse would keep. He gave a tired huff before reluctantly setting you free. Your grin only grew wider, and you place a quick peck on his lips before you scrambled off the bed.

You quickly checked the kitchen to see if the kettle hadn’t burned and once assured, you left it as it was and headed to the loo to get what was needed. You took a small towel from the cupboard bellow the sink and ran it under the water to get it wet. Once it was fully soaked, you wrang the excess water from the towel and quickly grabbed a spare shirt from the wardrobe before going back to the bedroom.

The darling god had his eyes closed with your pillow once again tight in his grasp. This time, the sight made you smile. At how adorable he looked, face squashed on the cushion. You could tell how exhausted he was though, so you made haste in getting him set for night’s (hopefully) peaceful rest.

You sat beside him on the bed, the shifting of the mattress making him dare open an eye just as you were about to rouse him. He gave you that small charming smile of his when he saw you and your hand moved to cup his cheek, letting the pad of your thumb caress his now dried cheeks.

‘Can you sit up for me, luv’ you asked, leaning down to his ear. He gave you a faint nod before you sat back and helped him up. The fatigue was really getting on to him as he laid his head on your shoulder, so you made sure to finish as soon as possible to finally let him have a good night’s rest.

You gathered his hair into a pony with one hand and held it away, while the other wiped the damp cloth on the back of his neck. He flinched at the contact, having been spared a warning, you promptly apologized and moved as quickly as you could.

You wiped his face with great care, before you pulled his shirt off and threw it on the nightstand, to be put on the hamper after you were done. You wiped him all over until you deemed it enough and gave him the spare shirt. He put it on and just before you could leave the bed again, he took your hand. He gave you a pleading look that spoke volumes, and how could you resist when he gave you those doe eyes.

You gave him a soft smile, leaving the little towel beside the shirt and made your way to your spot on the bed. You got comfortable before you looked at him, staring at you with great fondness, it made you bashful yet you still opened your arms, welcoming him in to be held, which with great eager, he accepted. He laid beside you, wrapping his arms around your torso as he inhaled the scent of your hair, a welcome comfort after the course of the night.

You pulled the covers up to cover you both, but the feel of his soft lips just made you forget about everything but him, making you snuggle closer in his hold.

He had his head laid on the top of yours, his arms tied around you and your legs intertwined. An arm of yours cradled the back of his head, tangling to the roots of his inky locks while the other drew abstracts on his back. You held each other, never saying a word yet the silence was finally comfortable. A tranquil state you two could once again relish.

The silence however gave your mind room to intrude the peace, thinking of how things got to this point. From the argument, to the dismiss of each other’s presence and up until the confession after the dreadful nightmare, you admit that parts of how this ended up being the conclusion of the day, was your fault. Yes, Loki had his own mistakes in the matter, but you could have taken a point and fixed it. Why didn’t you get a grip and made the effort to make things better. You shouldn’t ha…

A deep sigh broke you out of your trance. A squeeze, you felt you were given as arms around waist tightened and you were pulled impossibly closer to the mass holding you.

‘I can hear your gears turning, darling’ Loki mumbled, followed by a small chuckle, breaking the deafening comfort of silence. The sound was well welcomed after the tension of the day.

‘Sorry, luv. Go back to sleep’ you reply, scratching his scalp. He hummed in response, a smile pressing against your hair before a quick peck was planted on the top of your head. You grinned, closing your eyes, hoping to finally get consumed by the black oblivion that was rest.

The gentle caress on your arm helped, lulling you to a peaceful state of mind. Loki knew what helped you too.

Eventually the night drew on, painting the dark skies with stars as the two held each other, succumbing to blissful state of peace promised by slumber.

The night was a lesson for the two. To understand the other, to work out their problems and to never go to bed angry.

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mmpookie · 1 year ago

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ARCANA TWILIGHT FLOOR 13 REACTION SPOILERS ‼️

I. AM. NOT OKAY.😭😭 BRO I AM ON MY. KNEES. PLEASEEE GIVE US A SEASON TWO STORY TACO OML 😭🙏🙏

OKAY NOW FOR DISCUSSION:

FIRST SHOUT OUT TO CONFRONTATIONAL ARKY GOTTA BE ONE OF MY FAVORITE GENDERS 😩🙏

THE THE. THE FRICKEN POLLUX IS CASTOR PLOTTWIST⁉️

I SAT OVER HERE DRAWING THE POLLUX BDAY ART .JUST. COMPLETELY ABSENTED MINDED OF THE FACT THAT POLLUX AND CASTOR LITERALLY PULLED A TWIN SWAP CLICHE ON US THAT IS SO FUNNY TO ME.

HE'S SO TRAGIC ☹️

BTW I ALMOST FELL OUT OF MY CHAIR READING THIS I CANNOT BELIEVE THIS WAS THE CASE THE ENTIRE TIME OH MY GOD

I MEAN THINKING ABOUT IT I SHOULD'VE EXPECTED IT BUT STILL (EVEN SIRIUS WAS STUNNED)

Also teehee the dots are connecting with mythology again UGH it's so smart with what they pulled off I loved this closing arc for pollux

or I mean castor???

I'm not stretching right???

Also did they ever clarify what castor's fate of misfortune was? Unless I missed it, it's gotta be referring to his death right? Deffo gonna reread the story for when my arcana twilight withdrawals kick in to reanalyze EVERYTHING bc that will be fun

MORE MYTHOLOGY‼️

I've would also love to shout out how much of Arky's role of guiding us out of the Boundry can be paralleled to the greek god Hermes and what he symbolizes BUT BRO

CAN YOU HEAR MY UTTER ANGUISH?????? MY UTTER DESPAIR?????? I AM UNCONSOLABLE

I DUNNO IF I'LL EVER RECOVER FROM THIS LINE 😭 SORRY IT'S JUST ME PARALLELING SUMMONER AND VEGA TO ORPHEUS AND EURYDICE AGAIN. AND. AND. HOW RELEVENT IT IS TO THEIR BACKSTORY AND VEGAS TRAUMA OF BEING ABANDONED BUT

THIS IS SUCH A PERFECT LINE. THE BOW ON TOP OF HIS CHARACTER ARC. I COULD NOT BE HAPPIER

THIS MAY OR MAY NOT BE BECAUSE OF HOW MUCH A HADESTOWN FAN I AM SO IGNORE ME

Ok so at the end I was like NERVOUS bc there was the chance they could have MAYBE pulled off two different endings depending on whether summoner personally wanted to stay or go back to Mid Earthium- which would have been a cool opportunity that Storytaco could have pulled,, but I guesss instead they did the thing where the choices triggered the same response, but this time in the sense that the rest is left to your imagination:

*you turn around = you stay back at the Boundry with the boys (this is because if you turn around the portal magic thingy won't work)

*or you listen to arcturus = keep walking until you arrive back home (earth)

Personally I chose to turn around bc ,one, the story never really gave me TOO much reason to want to go back home- however it was back there- and two I WAS YELLING THROUGH THE SCREEN NOO I DONT TO LEAVEEE 😭😭 THE WHOLE TIME

Also the voice we hear at the end says

"Can you hear? I have a story I desperately want to tell."

And I?? Can't exactly tell what it means?..OTHER THAN A TEASER FOR MORE CONTENT?? MAYBE PONTENTIALLY?? But if it's actually obviously something else I missed please tell me 😭

Anyways end of lecture:

Pollux and vega ending arc top tier.

Arcturus hmm I wish they didn't gloss over the void arc so quickly 🤔

If they could have fitted it in there I would have loved if they had just a BIT more of a satisfying conclusion for spica and alpheratz yknow? :( just me??

And finally. I can be slow,,, so if there's anyone out there that can explain Sirius's whole spiel with polaris and everything with the time travel.,,,,,,, I really would appreciate it bc I'm still trying to understand 😭

(Story taco if you're reading this please make more story I love these characters too much ☹️)

#ANYWAYS SEASON 2 HERE WE COME 😁#AM I RIGHT #arcana twilight #arcana twilight spoilers #arcana twilight 13th floor #also technically #arcana twilight fanart

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thewebcomicsreview · 1 year ago

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Homestuck 2 updated today! Even I'm not enough of a dork to leave a Christmas Party to go read Hamsteak, but it got late and I'm back now, so let's do it. Months ago, but not many, before Alt!Calliope collapsed. Has it really been months, in-universe, since Dave/Aradia left Candy? Time is confusing, especially in Homestuck.

Oh wait, this is after Jade broke free of Calliope's control back in Chapter 6. That was months ago? Man, it's so weird how we've cut back to the Meat Rocket several times since then and Jade just....hasn't done anything or said anything about being possessed? At least onscreen? Totally glossed over.

Probably the biggest mystery in HSBC right now is who the Candyland narrator is. The "Lady" giving commands is clearly Alt Calliope, so who's the narrator pushing back on her here?

Oh. We have another Alt Calliope. An Alt-er Calliope. This seems to literally be the same person as Alt Calliope, though, since they re-fuse. Maybe this is something to do with Ultimate Selves, which might be why non-Alt Calliope is so afraid of her.

Cutting from Alt Calliope talking about decorum to Davebot and Aradia taking selfies with her corpse is a cute gag. I'd forgotten Aradia had a new Calliope-themed outfit. That's kind of weird.

DAVEBOT: to be fair this was typical teen jade behavior DAVEBOT: honestly shoulda done a little more research into that host body

Oh that's an interesting explanation for why Alt-Calliope-In-Pre-Retcon-Jade's-Body passed out (and almost certainly not the original team's reason). But Jade's narcolepsy was Vriska-induced.

DAVEBOT: you just went on another one didnt you ARADIA: yes DAVEBOT: who did you meet this time ARADIA: the necr- DAVEBOT: no dont tell me its simply too much to bear ARADIA: are you doing a bit DAVEBOT: of course im doing a bit

I do like the idea that Aradia uses her time powers to have entire adventures in between sentences. I suppose this also makes Pesterquest's Aradia arc canon, since that involved a bunch of HS2 stuff. I haven't played Pesterquest in forever so I don't know if the "necr-" ("necromancer"?) is a reference to that or foreshadowing.

ARADIA: actually i doomed thousands of timelines DAVEBOT: thats kind of fucked up ARADIA: yeah! ARADIA: to be fair i was doing it on purpose DAVEBOT: thats even more fucked up

Aradia is the best troll.

Dave's pillow wearing sunglasses is a great gag. Also, a cute character moment. Those glasses were a gift from John, and Dave kept them even after becoming a robot.

ARADIA: i could go see him right now DAVEBOT: you wont ARADIA: i wont 0u0

Assuming "him" in Sollux, that seems to imply that Aradia can come and go to Candyland freely, which is...interesting.

ARADIA: youre welcome 0u0 ARADIA: anyway the point im making here is that some of these missteps end up serving a grander purpose ARADIA: things that seem unimportant or even “wrong” can end up being essential components of whats meant to happen ARADIA: and who even decides whats wrong in the first place? DAVEBOT: i dunno megido thats borderline blasphemous

This is pretty obviously about Candyland, especially since Dave just shit on his pre-Ultimate Candy self as being a different person from a "lame" timeline, and "How much does it matter if something is canon or not?" is the question HS2 is allegedly about in the first place. But also I kind of like this nerdy time shit philosophizing even without the thematic subtext. The Homestuck EU has mostly been "Trolls! Aren't they neat!" and Ultimate Selves, but the Classpects haven't really been talked about much for a long Time.

Dave also refers to "Skaia's alpha timeline" in this conversation, but it's never been fully clear to what extent Skaia was pulling the strings. The "alpha" timeline was just the one with no paradoxes, and it was Lord English, not Skaia, who was making it so restrictive.

ARADIA: whats the right way for a butterfly to flap its wings? DAVEBOT: the way that doesnt make me gay

Dave...you are gay. You've been gay since Homestuck proper. It was a big part of why your marriage to Jade fell apart. Ultimate Dave is comprised of all Daves, and since Dave quit time-traveling before figuring out his sexuality, he seems to have regressed somewhat.

Dave was always scared of creating Dead Daves. "Dead Daves are the enemy", and it's why he doesn't time travel any more, and Aradia here seems to be arguing that this is limiting him, that he can't grow and explore without breaking some rules and dooming some timelines. This is, of course, Thematic™. You can't go in an interesting new direction if you're too worried about sticking to what the story's "supposed" to be about.

DAVEBOT: also now feels like a good time to mention that despite my omnitemporal awareness of everything that has and ever will happen to me i actually have no idea where the fuck youre proposing to take me ARADIA: oh word ARADIA: fun huh? DAVEBOT: being real i kind of hate it ARADIA: woohoo! DAVEBOT: youre such a freak DAVEBOT: TONE INDICATOR: AFFECTIONATE

ARADIA: cmon you shithead

This is such a fun pairing.

Hm. Calliope gets back up right as Aradia and Davebot's feeling jam is getting somewhere and makes them stop. Hmmm...

Good update. Aradia is my favorite troll and this was Good Aradia Content. I am increasingly convinced that she is not a Handmaid to Calliope, despite the cult outfit. Also rather interested in what's up with the Double Alt Calliope thing, but I imagine that'll get a follow-up at some point.

#Homestuck #Homestuck 2

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eddiernunson · 2 years ago

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Trapped | Eddie Munson | Part 7 | 18+

Previous Part | Master Post | Next Part

[The next part will be out by end of February]

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem Reader

Warnings: Several instances of unprotected P in V sex, (wrap it up), public sex, if you squint (or close your eyes, really) there's public humiliation?, daddy kink continues, and mentions of sex but i dont describe the actual scenes. They get high together, and I basically just describe the first time I got high. (if you want to skip, it doesn't affect the story.) Wholesome mentions include a family dinner with Wayne, get together with all the friends excluding the Byers first I love you, and just everyday musings.

Author's Note: Christmas and January kicked my ASS. I had an inkling of what to do but no literal layout until like Friday. I apologize for this terribly inconsistent posting schedule and there will be a much smaller chapter posted by the 28th. I'm uber excited after the next chapter cause then we're all caught up and my plan is to write the season with the character written in (My goal from the beginning.) I just wanna note I don't ship Mike and Will, because I think Will deserves better. I think it's clear where Mike's priorities lie, and it's not with him.

MINORS DNI for the smut. Seriously. Please.

This should not be this weird.

You stared at the sides of the VHS tapes, organizing the metal bin of discounted vintage tapes. Your right pinky delicately moving the furthest tape up and down, rotating lightly. You were working in silence on November 1st, 1985, a quiet evening in Family Video the day after a Halloween that seemed to cause a big ruckus in Hawkins.

While Steve’s party usually ended up in numerous hangovers and regrets, today it was as if the entirety of Hawkins felt the dreary, murky feeling in the atmosphere. This Halloween just hit different.

That might’ve just been you though, waking up in Steve’s bed in-between him and your boyfriend. You flashback to the night before, and Steve’s brown eyes looking up at you between your legs hits you like a freight train. When Eddie wakes up, he only sees Steve, wondering downstairs to see you perched cross legged on Steve’s couch next to a jock that fell asleep with his hips on the arm rest.

“You okay?” He asks, reaching out to comfort you.

You look up at him, wide eyed and worried. “Did I have-” you look around to see if anyone is awake and continue, “did I have a really, really vivid dream last night?”

Eddie laughs. “Dunno, did you want it to go on longer last night?”

You feel your cheeks heat up; you bite back a smile that creeps onto your face. “Fuck.” Your hand goes up to your forehead in disbelief. “You’re okay with it?”

“Okay with it?” Eddie laughs scooching his tiny waist in between you and the jock. “Princess, I instigated it. I could’ve told him to fuck off. I didn’t. I asked him to join.” Eddie chuckled. “I was already enchanted by your amazing pussy,” you looked around anxiously when he said this too loud, “but Harrington just looked so good. Weird, since he was Peter fucking Pan.”

“Oh. Okay.” You state dumbly.

You sat with him on the couch for another half hour, neither of you quite ready to go back to the real world. As you were held on tight in a hug with him, sat on his lap, you see the party king making his way down the stairs, now in pajamas and his hair damp from a shower.

Subconsciously your body turns to face your boyfriend and your heart is the only thing you can hear and feel. You vaguely hear Harrington’s voice from the next room. “Mornin! Sleep well, you alcoholics?”

Eddie retorts with something you were sure was witty as he was but all you can think of is getting out of the house so you can stop over thinking it. “Hey, I’m feeling pretty hungover can we go?” You ask Eddie, feeling guilty about talking in a way so Steve wouldn’t hear you.

Eddie looks taken aback by your request; his brown eyes noticeably confused. “Are you sure? I’m pretty sure Harrington will have a concoction to help with that if you need it.”

You wiggle closer to him, resting your chin on his shoulder. “I’m feeling shy,” you whisper, an uncontrollable smile crept onto your face.

“Shy?” Eddie asks, feigning ignorance.

“I have wondered for ages what that would’ve been like, and I knew it would never happen because neither of us were interested in each other the way Nance and Steve once were. It was harmless curiosity.” You pause when it sounded like Steve was on his way to the living room. “Now it’s a bizarre reality and I have no idea how to-how to be around him. Let me avoid him until I see him at work tonight.”

Eddie stared at you wordlessly, a reaction you’ve seen on him only a handful of times. The times would be when his club members are saying something and it’s just so wild to him, he can barely contain it. “Um, sweetheart. You could just talk to him now.”

“Please?” You ask, tilting your head and doe-ing your eyes up.

“You’re lucky you’re so pretty.” He mutters, getting off the couch in a graceful leap. “Alright. Go grab your shit and I will make something up.”

You run back up to Steve’s room, eyes avoiding the bed as you search the sunlit room for your costume’s accessories, Eddie’s wings and halo he ripped off in his drunken haze. You run back down the stares, Eddie already putting on his leather jacket you hadn’t noticed he had placed on the coat hanger the night before.

“Sure ya can’t stay?” You hear Steve’s voice what felt like right in your ear and the crook of your neck. To be fair, he wasn’t quite that close to you, your senses just felt heightened. Your stunted reaction of jerking back both amused and confused the hell out of your boyfriend, though. You turn to face Steve, something you’d hoped to avoid. Unfortunately, a combined trauma and three years of casual acquaintanceship that lead into friendship meant Steve knew when something was off. He didn’t say anything about it. “I make a mean hangover cure.”

“I feel like shit, and we still have work tonight. I’m going to take a minute and rest.” My ass needs it, you thought, wondering what the collective response would’ve been if you said it. “I’ll see you later.” You give him your best attempt at a natural smile, to which Steve gives a huh look over you to Eddie when you turn away to the door. Eddie shrugs, laying his arm around your shoulder.

Now, here you are, no choice but to face Steve as he hovered around you as the loud silence of your nails ticking against the plastic covers deafened your ears. You came into work, barely making it after a short nap to wallow in your anxiety with your mom calling upstairs when she had realized you haven’t gotten up for work yet. Steve hung onto you like a magnet as soon as you bolted in, letting you know there’s loads of tapes to return after he rewound most of them and he’ll need your help.

You saw right through him of course, but you agreed with your most convincing smile and avoided his brown eyes staring a hole into your head. Though, an hour into your shift it seems he had enough. “Ok, cut the shit. What’s wrong?”

The harsh tone behind his words startled you into looking him in the eyes for the first time since making fun of Robin with him towards the end of the night when she couldn’t wrap her head around it. Your mouth moved to speak, and you backed out last minute, looking back down to your task at hand. Lots of horror movies returned, you noted. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Shit. Your voice wavered through that; you were unconvincing even to yourself.

Suddenly Steve’s green vest over a dark pink loose shirt tucked into his jeans was in your direct line of sight, hands on his hips, sporting a reprimanding look he usually saves for Dustin. “Seriously. Look at me.”

You look up, guilt evaded your brain as the genuine concern was displayed on his face.

“Did you not want-?” Steve asks, and it doesn’t even occur to you he’d be worried about this.

“It’s not that.” You shake your head hurriedly. “I promise. I knew what was happening and agreed wholeheartedly.”

“Then why the cold shoulder?” He asks, his voice softer and laying his hand on your arm, soothing with his thumb. You look down at it, fixated on how gentle he was. “Y/N. You’re going to have to answer me eventually. I will sit here for the rest of your shift don’t test me.”

Your eyes went back up to his face, and it felt like your anxiety bubbled to a stop. “I’m worried.” You start, moving to lift another VHS tape back until Steve stops you so you can focus on him. “I used to wonder what it might’ve been like on the occasion that I would hear a rumour or two and I figured it wouldn’t happen on the idea that sometimes you become too close to someone. I didn’t think it was a mutual notion.”

“You’re very wrong about that, go on.” Steve mentions casually.

“I-ok.” You pause, the sentence repeating itself in your mind. “I was afraid it would be different. I don’t want it to be. How do I interact with you knowing what I now know?” You glance at him; he seems bewildered by your thought process. “I overthink everything. I’ve never done anything like that, and I don’t know how to be normal.”

“Darling. You don’t think. Just do. I won’t judge you for what I heard before I joined, during, the aftermath. If I did, I wouldn’t have such a great reputation about it.” He takes his hand off yours, returning to work. “I will you treat you normal. It might take you a minute, but you’ll get into the swing of it. Avoiding me might’ve just made it worse though.”

Your eyes rolled at him, already feeling better that Steve was willing to go back to normal. “I am shy!” You claim, putting more Friday the 13th movies away.

Steve couldn’t hold back. “That’s not what you said last-” He didn’t even finish- you didn’t let him. You whacked him with a VHS, admittedly a little too hard. Steve ran off, giggling like a mad man towards to where Robin was rewinding the last of the tapes.

Wait, what did Steve hear before he joined? “Steve!”

A happy blissful two weeks passed by, a World Geography test you both crammed for during a night that ended up with you bent over his dresser, and nights spent with the Hellfire club and him finally convincing you to play in occasionally. After Dustin and Mike spend the two weeks grovelling and bothering Eddie, eventually you, Dustin, Mike, Eddie, Nancy, Robin, Steve, Max, and Lucas are all downstairs at the Wheelers with a game of Catan in front of you.

How the hell Dustin Henderson manages to convince people to play games like this is beyond you. It was beyond Eddie as well, complaining on the way over to the Wheelers’ residence. “I don’t know how the kid convinces so many people to do play board games with him. I have spent years building my recruitment skills. How the hell does he do it?”

You laugh, pulling yourself out of a soft gravity of bliss you were feeling as he held your hand and sang along quietly to the soft rock on the radio. “Mostly through bribing and relentless begging. It only works on people who find him somewhat amusing. You should see him attempt to recruit outside of the circle. It’s a nightmare.”

“Still though.” He pauses, thumbs drumming against the beat on his steering wheel. “He’s got the makings of a great Hellfire Club leader.”

“Don’t tell him that.” You say, shifting in the fabric seats as you turn the final corner to the Wheelers. “The kid worships you. Plus, if you offered him the spot then told him you’re taking the throne I think he’d riot.”

Eddie laughs, lifting his hand to your face to frame it fondly and stares at you for a moment too long considering he was still driving. The look you have always wanted to see him staring at you with was well worth it. “No, he’s also just more knowledgeable than some members who have been going to the club for years. I think it just makes sense.”

“When are you planning on telling him this? I’m pretty sure he’s been plotting and campaigning for taking over your role since the end of September.” You comment, remembering the plotting of him with an exasperated Steve Harrington at Family Video one night.

“I’m waiting to see what he gets me for Christmas.” Eddie laughs, signalling to turn into the driveway.

It seems the two of you were fashionably late, coming down to a basement full of teenagers waiting impatiently. “Finally!” Dustin exclaims, ripping out the boardgame as soon as you were in sight.

“Busy were ya?” Robin asks, a side smirk on her face.

Actually, you were. It is not your fault your boyfriend is relentlessly horny at the worse times. It was hard not to self consciously adjust your hair, wondering if something gave it away. The sharp memory of Eddie straight up grabbing your pussy when you told him there was no time yet feeling large wet spot that has been looming on your panties from watching him practice on his guitar while listening to some music. “I knew you were fucking horny. C’mon bend over for me, we only have a few minutes to make us both cum.”

The silence following Robin’s cheeky accusation was enough to accidentally confirm. “Blame him.” You point, letting go of his hand and laughing at the look of betrayal across his face. A portion of the group laugh out loud, Dustin and Mike mimicking gagging.

Dustin lays out the game, distributes the pieces appropriately and explains the rules. Mike’s family owns the Settler version of Catan, a game that requires trading and early colonialism. It takes a few times for you and Steve to understand the rules and basic concept, but the game gets heated quickly.

Remember, the two eldest Wheelers, Eddie, Steve, Dustin, and Max are all in the same game. This was doomed from the start. You, Lucas, and Robin are pretty much in it for the drama by the half point when you all collectively realized none of you were going to win. Instead, you three started instigating more drama.

Dustin and Max were in the middle of arguing about how she supposedly betrayed the alliance they made. Max is asking where the written contract was, and Dustin claims it was in her word. Meanwhile, though they were separated because of their inability to get along, it somehow made it worse with them arguing across the table after Nancy interjected the road Mike has built. Eddie has gotten himself into a heated argument with Steve, turns out both were after the limited recourse that was clay. You wished that Dustin had thought this through a bit more because you didn’t think this version of Catan was built for these many players.

Steve yells loud enough to make every other argument die, cutting into the amused glance you and Lucas were exchanging. “Ok! We gotta figure this shit out. Eddie. You gotta give me the clay. It was obvious that was my goal first.”

“Oh. You want the clay?” Eddie asks, starting to pick up pieces he had on the board. Uh oh. You don’t know how but you saw this coming from a mile away. “Here! Take it!” Eddie starts throwing them to Steve, he rapid fires them at him, taking no time between each fling.

The individuals surrounding you were a mixture of laughter and annoyance, most of them were both. You could barely pay attention to it, there was this a of emotion in you, your breath hitched sharply as you watched him start to throw Nancy’s road, causing her to interject rather wildly. The realization hit you like a fire truck on the way to a fire across the state with ten minutes until the house burnt down.

Holy shit.

Holy shit you loved him.

You truly loved him.

Your heart rammed in its cage as the knowledge startles you into silence, still watching Eddie with a stupid grin on your face. For all intents and purposes, you were wholeheartedly in love with Eddie fucking Munson. You were waiting for this epiphany to hit you ever since the conversation you had with him in your kitchen at supper with your parents. The amount of phone calls the two of you had and you wanted to blurt it out despite the uncertainty of its truth was nearly overwhelming.

You smiled to yourself, watching as Dustin gets up to point Eddie to where you were sitting, informed he was now kicked out from this round and to sit down next to you so you could keep an eye on him. “Oh, come on! That’s so lame.”

“Think of it as revenge for all the times you doxed perception points for needing to piss, asshole.” Dustin yells a little too loudly.

“Dustin. Tone.” You remind him, noticing a certain trend in tone from him lately.

“Sorry.” He says towards you, understanding he needed to take it down a notch. “Dude. You threw pieces. Not cool. If I did that in D&D I would’ve been killed in a heartbeat.”

“Why do you think I’m a Master and not a player? I don’t have the patience for it.” Eddie laughs walking over to you.

He grabs a chair and places it right next to you, placing his arm around your shoulders. “You okay?” He asks, so close to you if you looked towards him, he would be too close to be in focus.

You let a wide smile spread across your face, the words attempting to bubble out of your mouth. You hold back. Not right now. “I’m great. I just didn’t realize you’d be so competitive.”

“I usually go for the clay because no one else does and it becomes a great asset in the end. I don’t know how Steve deducted that but sometimes I get carried away, you know.”

“I know, baby.” You laugh, Eddie squeezing your shoulder sharply in response.

The game ends with a surprise win from Robin, having suddenly getting into it once she put the rules and noticed certain strategies, she was tired of quietly communicating to her best friend and him ignoring her gesturing. Robin might’ve been terribly awkward at times, but she knew strategy. It worked for her. Dustin pretended to bow down as you all applauded her success, Robin yelling triumphantly in the centre with friends scattered around her in an incomplete circle. You were leant back into Eddie, watching Dustin ask her, nearly hound her on how she managed to do it.

You didn’t even notice the content smile on your face, Eddie kissing into your temple. You leaned into him, enveloping his lips into yours, feeling a whiff of emotion as you tried to silently express the emotions you felt earlier to him.

“You guys are gross.” You hear Max claim, hearing her approach the couch behind you.

The two of you look to her, and Lucas is right next to her, his arm around her tentatively. “Call it what you want. Would you rather us be fighting all the time like my parents?” Eddie asks, grabbing your hand.

“Oh god no.” Max mutters, memories of her fighting parents flashing before her eyes. “You’re just sickeningly cute. I mean me and Lucas kiss but not nearly as cavity inducing as the two of you.”

You roll your eyes, shaking your head. “If you don’t want cavities, you can look away at any given moment. Also don’t think the two of you aren’t cavity inducing as well. You’re adorable, kids. Own it.”

Max’s face scrunches at being called adorable, Lucas looking at her fondly. If Max could only see how this boy stared at her when she wasn’t looking you wondered if she would be so inclined to dump him like she did. Max gulped, smiling half heartedly. You could tell there was something on her mind, yet Dustin and Lucas had both already voiced their concerns and she loudly dismissed it. You’ve been keeping an eye on her, wondering how she was holding up.

Ever perceptive, Max narrows her eyes as to pointedly wonder why you were staring. You stick her tongue out at her, deflecting the act of being caught. Max’s blue eyes roll in response. Lucas is talking to her, his voice soft enough to where you couldn’t make out what he was saying, though you probably weren’t supposed to hear it based on Max’s visible blush and a smile she tries to hold back.

Your attention flips back to Eddie, and you wonder how you’re going to tell him. What if he wasn’t ready to say it yet?

Funnily enough, Eddie Munson, too wrapped up in admiring you and successfully zoning out the argument over the game that is still happening, was wondering the same thing. He had this epiphany when you two went for a drive last week. You were singing Take on Me, a newer song you haven’t quite gotten the lyrics quite down and failed to reach the higher notes, resulting in Eddie barely holding back in his laughter, you are calling him mean before you join him.

While your voice cracked through your high notes, your chin lifted and eyes closed as you gave it a good hard try, he looked over to you, the epiphany hitting him much softer than yours hit you. Yours took the wind out of you, his was as if a butterfly landed on him and kissed him to bless him with it. The last key change with the completely wrong note that escaped your lungs with a screech brought him into laughter.

“Baby. That was amazing. I haven’t heard anyone that off key since Jeff attempted the operatic section of Bohemian Rhapsody.” He laughs grabbing your hand. The words were on the tip of his tongue. He felt them in his throat, threatening to climb out without his permission. Though he had a feeling this was not the moment.

Now, eyes full adoration for you as you carefully weave your pointer finger through his somewhat unruly curls, he was wondering when the best time would be. The words felt stuck in his throat, burning with a desire to crawl out. He felt somewhat worried they would leave without his permission one night, the want to say it between classes or a late-night phone call. He’s been waiting somewhat impatiently for you to say it.

However, your brain has convinced itself he’s not ready for it yet and he would look at you with pity if you had confessed it now.

So, it would still be another two weeks before either one of you confessed.

While Robin isn’t competitive, she is not above bragging. Her intelligence that seems to make up for her lack of knowledge of social cues is made up in strategy and analytics. Usually, you and Robin are making side eyed glances at one another at work, but today you find being a lone sane ranger in what felt like a wilderness of absolute madness. Were you drugged by the Russians again? In another game of D&D that had no curfew due to a long weekend? (Thanksgiving was next week, anyway.)

No, just a bragging Robin Buckley and a salty Steve Harrington.

You were manning the front desk, avoiding them as they were actually driving you crazy for once. Off to the side, they were arguing over changing up the display. You had only heard bits and pieces of their conversation, only enough to understand the gist of what this argument was about. “Well, how do you know my idea isn’t better, huh?”

“Cause my strategy actually won, that’s how!” Robin shoots back without missing a single beat.

Steve yells in frustration, and without any warning he places a nicely toned arm around your shoulder. “Can you please ask Robin to cut it out” he asks, yelling the last three words of his sentence.

“I don’t understand how this is my problem. I didn’t play in the game.” You say, shrugging out of his arm to make yourself clear you’re not on either side of their petty argument.

“You brought the shit disturber!” Steve shouts, gesturing to the door as if Eddie was about to appear at the mention of his name.

Looking over, you hoped he was there to save you from this annoyance. No such luck, Uncle Wayne had stolen him for the night.

You look back to face Steve, the annoyance and disappointment clear on your face. “What Eddie does while playing games is not in my control. If I thought I could control what he does playing anything, you think we would’ve gotten along so easily?” The side of his mouth quirks up for a second, internally laughing and agreeing with you.

He couldn’t show that to you, of course. “Whatever, just have better control over your boyfriend next time. That way I won’t fucking lose.”

“Sure, Steve. It was Eddie’s fault you lost. Let’s say that.” You comment sarcastically, nodding along.

“HAH!” Robin yells from where she and Steve were arguing. Oops. You may have accidentally taken sides.

The arguments don’t die down. By the end of it, you were mentally exhausted from all of it. The Sunday night seemed to droll on, the busiest days for returns but the slowest for renters. After rewinding all the returns and straight up ignoring your coworkers, Steve locks up the store and you walk away from their continued arguments. How the hell did they never get tired of arguing? No wonder you thought they were together, fuck.

As you pull in, you notice a familiar van down the street. No shit.

The front door enters, and your mom comes up to you with a look of kindness as she can tell you were exhausted. Your brain barely registers it, the idea of Eddie being upstairs enough to settle at least a small percentage of your nerves. “Hi, sweetheart. Your supper and a guest are upstairs.”

Your eyes open wide, knowing Eddie parks down the block when he wants to sneak in without the parentals knowing.

“He fell off your bed. Tell him he can use the damn door.” She comments as you start to run up the stairs to your room to avoid the look your mom is giving you.

You open your door, Eddie on your bed cross legged in a pair of plaid pajamas and an old band t-shirt, watching the door in what can be only described as fear.

A beat.

“You fell off my bed?” You ask, your backpack falling off your shoulder as you drop your car keys on the floor.

“Oops?” Eddie asks, face in an odd mix of fear and humour. “In my defense, I have shit balance and I’m impressed I haven’t eaten shit while climbing through your window before.”

Your head tilts. “You did it crawling through the window?”

Eddie huffs a laugh. “Not my finest moment, your mom caught me halfway back out the window.”

You huff, hand landing onto your forehead. Shit, you really loved him.

“Your mom said we have until midnight.”

“See, this is what happens when you don’t wait until I’m home.” You would never tell your mom, and the only others that do know are Nancy and Robin, but Eddie has been spending one or two nights a week spending the night at your house. Uncle Wayne knew that your parents don’t know, but Eddie is 20, you’re 18, he didn’t see the big deal.

“I’m so sorry I couldn’t wait until my smoking girlfriend got home.” Eddie puts his hands up, turning it on you. “My bad. I’ll try to hide my charming enthusiasm for you for now on.”

You roll your eyes and fling the shirt you had just taken off to his face. “Hey now! I need to see the goods! You can’t hide them from me!” Eddie runs low into you, like his imitation of a gremlin. “Show me the goods!”

The laughter you fail to hold in bubbles out, and you can’t imagine what your parents must be thinking. Although Eddie sneaking in has become a common practice for the two of you, you still feel anxious as shit until you know they’re in their bedroom asleep.

He can feel you’re still anxious and grabs your cheeks into his hands. “Anxious?”

You nod, still amazed you have the luxury of seeing his brown eyes this close. How was it legal they were so damn pretty?

“Uh,” your breath hitches, and you realize you weren’t breathing. “Mmhm.”

Eddie smirks, and you became afraid of what crossed his mind.

You had a right to be.

“What,” he asks, leaning in. You had hoped he was leaning in to kiss you, but he flies passed your lips and to your ear, “is my pretty girl afraid her parents will hear her being a slut?”

You gulp, your heart beating faster. You can feel the heat of your core getting warmer by the second. Words escape your mind all the sudden, so you nod.

“I mean they were bound to hear it one day,” Eddie chuckles, putting a well thought out hand onto your hip, the thumb rubbing purposely.

Your gulp is audible, Eddie nods in understanding, as if your protest was enough for him to take pity on you, for now. “Okay, maybe not today. But pretty baby does want to, right?”

Your head shakes fast, nodding vigorously. “Yes. Definitely.”

Eddie’s head jerks back, a shit eating grin on his face. “Okay. We’ll wait until 10, their bedtime.”

You tilt your head to see around his body that had backed you up against the wall to the alarm clock on your bedside table. It was 7:08. Three hours. You lean back in, the expression of not wanting to wait so long clear on your face. “Huh?”

“You said you didn’t want them to hear you. C’mon. I wanna show you an evil plot I have formed. I need a new opinion that won’t convince me not to do something just because their character wouldn’t survive it.” Eddie says, grabbing your hand and leading you to the bed, previous talk seemingly forgotten about.

“Then I have to cover the goods.” You respond, realizing you were still half undressed. You run to your dresser, grabbing a pair of shorts and one of his shirts. If he was going to tease you, you could very much do the same. Eddie had made it clear shortly after Halloween short shorts and a shirt of his was a weakness of his.

Two can play that game.

The anticipation was ruthless and unfair for the both of you. Eddie showed you his notes from the fantasy novels he had checked out from the library and how he had planned to use it in the campaign for this upcoming week, and your legs and the smell of your perfume was just intoxicating to him. The slight shift of his eyes moving from his notes down to your legs consistently was enough to make you feel smug.

It was about 9:30, your textbooks out and working on some long question answers together. You were genuinely attempting to some work, seeming as you might as well if you have the time and you need to make sure he still gets his shit done. “Okay, I can’t take it. Put on some damn pants.” Eddie tells you, only a few words on his paper and his pencil beside him.

“Nope. You started it. You made this bed. Sit in it.” You say, not even looking up from where you were writing.

“Fuck. You know I am absolutely going get you back for this, right?” Eddie asks, playing with his rings and flexing his fingers unnecessarily.

You intended to stay focused on your paper, knowing he was up to something. “I look forward to it.”

Eddie glances at the time. 9:35. Fuck. If he gave in early, then you would win. But if he gives in then he gets you. “Princess.” He mutters, and you look up. He crashes his lips onto yours, his mouth open and enveloping your lips into his.

You break from him. “I thought you were waiting until 10.”

“Oh, I am,” Eddie comments, hand soothing you wherever he can reach. “We can make out for twenty minutes. Just gotta keep your hands to yourself.”

“Can you keep your hands to yourself for twenty minutes?” You challenge him, a sly smile making its way onto your face. “You are quite handsy.”

You had him figured out; he finds himself challenged as you stare at him unblinkingly. But if you knew Eddie Munson, you knew he doesn’t back off from a challenge, even if he knew he was backed into a corner. Man doesn’t know how to admit he was wrong. “Can you?” He asks, turning it back onto you.

A smile breaks onto your face, genuine this time. You dramatically push both of your books and the papers off your bed. Eddie lifts his eyebrow at you quizzically. Though he was amused, he couldn’t help but admire how adorable you were. In response to Eddie’s raised eyebrow, you grabbed him by the shirt, yanking him down so the two of you are lying on your bed with Eddie on top of you. On the way down he let out a yelp out of surprise, chuckling as he found his footing and gripped your sheets.

Eddie leaned into you, not giving you any moment to register it. Off the bat you can feel yourself getting antsier, the way Eddie worked his tongue against yours driving the heat downward right into your core.

Slowly, you hear him breathing shallower and shallower. Your hands grabbed Eddie by the nape of his hairline, tugging on it lightly. Eddie lets out a sharp breath, giving you a dark look as he pulls back again.

A bubble of laughter escapes your mouth, despite trying to hold it back. “What? I just touched your hair.”

“Oh, is that the game we’re allowed to play?” Eddie asks, his tone of voice slightly scaring you. “I didn’t know we were allowed to play dirty.”

Eddie meets your mouth with more force now, as if he was doing his best to tug a breathy moan out of you. He leans back from you, using his thumb to tug your bottom lip down and open your mouth. He places the thumb inside, laying the pad of his thumb resting on your tongue. You instinctively start to suck on it, moving your tongue around it. His kisses move down, wet feeling of his tongue combined with your lips trailing down along your neck and into the crook where your neck and shoulder meet. His teeth make their way into the mix, starting to bite and nip and suck along your shoulder and collarbone.

This had brought on the feeling of ecstasy, your eyes rolling in the back of your head. “I thought-hmm” you stutter as Eddie works his tongue expertly against your skin. “I thought our hands were being kept to ourselves.”

Eddie gives an exceptionally strong suck on your collarbone, he looks up, lips kissed bruised and eyes wild as he looks up from his hard work. “Oh, my hands are being kept to myself. We said nothing about our lips.” You give a side-eye, your mind wondering if he was gonna go down on you then if he was so insistent on using his lips. He catches this, narrowing his eyes at you. “What?”

“Nothing.” You lie, unconvincingly.

“Noth-nothing?” Eddie stutters, placing his ringed hand into your hair. “That was not nothing. If I have learned anything about you, its to ask what look I see on your face right now.”

You giggle, feeling shy. “If you don’t keep your lips to yourself why stop at my collarbone?”

“Oh, you shithead.” Eddie mutters, one long lick from your nape to your ear. “You absolute brat.”

His hand leaves your hair and slides them up your arms to place his hands in yours, clutching your hands a tad harder than necessary and moving them above your head. It managed a small whine out of you, slightly wriggling around as his hands had you tied down. Eddie leans down to you, and you’re expecting the dirtiest kisses he can provide you. He gives you light tongue, barely letting you have a taste of the permanent weed that staycayed in his mouth.

His knee jerks forward into your cunt, and you let out a breathy gasp. “How are you feeling, sweetheart, hmm?”

You frown slightly in response, annoyed at his cheeky question. Eddie smiled, giving you a look of satisfaction. He opened his mouth to respond, and a noise down the hallway catches his attention.

Your parents’ door closing.

Eddie’s head snaps towards your clock, it displayed 10:06.

A dark smile is displayed across Eddie’s face, and he yanks himself off your bed and locks your door. His shirt hits the floor as he makes his way back to your bed and you can barely ask what’s going on when he leans back in to lay another kiss on you. “Baby.” He mutters, his hand starts up and down your legs, wasting little time.

“Hmm?” You ask, somewhat in a daze.

“It’s after ten.” He whispers, making you understand the change in atmosphere. “You still want to?”

You giggle, your hands immediately grabbing at the hem of your shirt to take it off. “You gonna fuck me good, Ed?”

“Not Ed,” he mutters, his voice partially muffled by your shorts in his teeth. “Not now.”

“Daddy you gonna fuck me good?”

No words left his mouth, but you saw the darkened eyes as his hands gently finished the shorts’ journey off your legs. You waited in bated breath as you felt Eddie’s hot breath against your thighs next to your pussy. “Look how pretty this pussy is.” Eddie admires you, his finger lightly grazing against your folds. “And she’s so wet, too. I’ve barely even touched you.”

“That’s-that’s a lie and you know it, Ed.” You whine, resisting the urge to slam your legs together in the increased state of vulnerability you feel.

“Not Ed, and it’s…debatable.” Eddie decided, taking in the velvet feeling of the wetness against your entrance. He takes a scoop of your slick and slips it into his mouth for the taste of it and bites back a moan. “Fuck, you taste so good, princess.”

Your hips move restlessly, tired of the lack of touch. “Do-do something, Daddy. Anything. Please.”

Eddie chuckles, taking pity on you. He yanks himself off the bed, ripping his belt off so his jeans come off with one swift move. His underwear is ripped off without another thought. “Anything? How about you?”

Before you can even process what Eddie meant you feel him line his cock up against your entrance, and you moan loudly at the feeling of his cock finally pushing into you after hours of his fingers grazing your skin lighting it on fire. “Holy- oh my god-” you moaned, reeling in the feeling.

Eddie leans into you, lying his body against yours, your tits being pushed up to your ears. “Fuck, your pussy feels so goddamn good, sweetheart. So, so goddamn tight, and wet, and I will never get over how fucking good your pussy is.” Eddie rambles into your ear, voice deep and gruff.

“Move? Please?” You ask him gently, wondering if he even heard what you had said.

“Maybe I just wanna be in you for a little bit.”

“Mmmhm!” You whine, both turned on and angered by the idea. “Please?”

“Since you asked so nicely, my love.” He says, and his first hip thrust makes you forget how gentle he was.

Eddie moves his hand as he thrusts awkwardly so his fingers cling to your clit, rubbing frantically as if he wanted to make you cum as fast as possible. The build up from waiting in a frantic heightened state combined with the lovely foreplay Eddie had so generously provided for you brought on the feeling of your orgasm in the pit of your stomach, fast and startling.

He saw the flutter of your eyelid, felt the squeezing of your thighs, felt your breathing grow shallower by the minute, he could tell you were close. “My baby close?”

You nod, your eyelids struggling to stay open.

“Yeah? Just got my cock in you and you’re already gonna cum?” He asks, the pressure of his thumb tensing up lightly, rubbing it faster.

You nod again, moaning loudly as his thrusts hit harder.

“I don’t know if my baby has been a good enough girl for that, being a brat, n’ all…” Eddie manages, and your brow unconsciously furrows, clear as day you were not a fan of this idea. “No, you think you deserve to cum?”

You nod your head frantically, wordlessly begging for him to show you any kind of mercy.

“I guess I’ll allow it.” Eddie says after pretending to consider it.

The words had set off a flood gate of pleasure stunning you into border lining on completely limp. Usually after such an intense orgasm he would stop, allowing you to catch your breath before he carried on. However, this time intensity of your cunt tightening around his cock so tight had Eddie losing his mind, continuing to fuck you into oblivion.

He made his way up so he was sitting up and you were still on your back, now managing to hit deeper. Though you have been sexually active with him quite frequently, often enough to make anyone blush, making Eddie’s limit extended. Even with this additional experience, sometimes just the tightening of your cunt as you finish around him brings him to his high.

“Fuck, your tight-tight fucking pussy, so perfect, so beautiful, feels so fuckin good, sweetheart.” Eddie grunts, and you’re finally recovered enough to enjoy the blissed out look on his face. “Fuck-” With a final snap of his hips, the familiar feeling of Eddie’s cum filling you up filled your senses. You watched Eddie’s half lidded eyes as he was in the depth of the feeling of his orgasm.

Breath finally fills your lungs after the air being sucked out of it from being able to watch something as hot and ethereal as this boy that you thirsted after for three years cum inside you. How was this real? Nearly two months of you two together and you were still waiting for the other shoe to drop. For Eddie to tell you this was enough experience and now he had wanted to be with someone who he had actually liked.

The insecurity hit you in a place that drove you to sit up and tug him down to lie back on top of you. Eddie had sensed some sort of change in your disposition, the insecurity flashing across your face before he was tugged down to you. “You, you okay, sweetheart?”

“I just really-” the word wanted to leave your mouth. It was sitting in your voice box’s waiting room, reading one of the magazines for the fifth time. Its number was called, again. The word looked up and shook it’s head. It just wouldn’t leave your mouth. “I just hope this never ends.”

“I’m still in you.” Eddie says, lifting his head and giving you a weird look. You laugh together, the bizarre feeling of his cock twitching inside of you as he wasn’t moving, you pulse around him. “Me too, princess.” Eddie leans back onto you, peppering your neck with quick kisses.

You push him off and out of you, now exhausted from your long day at work and remembering you had school the next day. “You’re still coming over next week?” You ask him, watching as he got himself back into his clothes.

“Of course! Wayne not having to cook anything that even resembled a Thanksgiving dinner is a definite RSVP.” Eddie jokes, and you realize he’s about to take off when he slips on his jacket.

“Nothing to do with your girlfriend, huh? Only coming for Wayne’s sake?” you asked, edging him on to admit that you’re the reason he was willing to spend supper with his girlfriend’s parents and his own guardian.

“Wayne would’ve come to eat with them whether or not they had invited him, honestly.” Eddie laughs, doing a last ruffle through his hair. “Oh, sweetheart I have a surprise for you.” He mentions, moving his leg out of your window.

“Ooh! What?” Eddie’s surprises rarely (never) failed you.

“You’ll find out tomorrow morning.” He says, now out your window and giving you a cheeky grin. He leaned in to give you a sweet kiss, sly smile making you weak in the knees. You’re pretty sure seeing this smile alone in the first month of freshman year is what made you fall for him. Despite the internal monologue of telling yourself giving in to his kisses will only encourage him to go on with his bullshit, another part of you loved this part of him and knew your relationship wouldn’t be the same without it.

“This Friday at your house, Ed?” You asked him, leaning against the window as he stayed crouched.

“Just like always, sweetheart.” There’s finality in his voice, and the word still refuses to leave your throat. I love you.

“See you tomorrow baby.”

“Tomorrow.”

If you had a normal night at work last night then you would’ve spent all night tossing and turning, wondering what surprise he would give you.

Over the past six weeks Eddie has realized one way to show he cares is to give you surprises and always have something to pull out of his back pocket. A broken piece of one of his old guitar picks you have displayed on your mirror, an old chain necklace he didn’t wear anymore, a flower he miraculously found in the back alley at the bar his gig was at, and lastly, a movie date that started with wining and dining and ended with highly sinful whisperings into your ear.

The morning started with meeting Eddie in the parking lot, hand in hand to walk in tandem into the school. “Look beautiful today, baby.” He speaks to you lowly, causing your face to heat up.

You don’t respond, afraid to stutter out a response. You walk over to a table where Nancy is currently arguing with Evan, an argument they’ve had since last week.

“-because that’s not what’s important about the story! It’s not about the discrepancies that lead up to it, its about the truth. It’s why we report.” Nancy was exasperated, a notepad full of a nearly finished story (or an idea of the story), using her pen to point at her notepad insistently.

“But Nancy this is a part of the truth! It’s an important detail that tells the whole story, the whole image of what we are telling. No piece of information is unimportant, can’t believe you’d even claim that.” Evan says, sounding genuine.

“Evan this information is hearsay. You have no proof other than speculation to prove it’s true.” Nancy shots back, her jaw hard.

You were going to announce you and your boyfriend’s arrival when you had sat down but this was just entertaining. Their arguments were usually along these lines, Nancy shuts it down in the end and you were looking forward to how she would do it today.

“I have a strong rumour mill to rely on. They’re not wrong very often.” Evan contorts, his voice telling the three of you he thought he had Nancy down.

Nancy glances to you and you realize she’d known you were there all along, giving you a side eye. You both know the rumour mill in town is not always correct. In fact, the two of you have relied on Hawkins’ inaccuracy. “Unless you can give me a congruent resource, it’s a no-go.”

“Yeah, alright, whatever.” Evan leans onto his elbow, tapping the pen on his paper. Suddenly, you find Evan looking at you, a new glint in his eye. “So, any chance-”

“Go away, Evan.” You say, knowing exactly what he was going to ask. “Besides, the frenzy around our relationship has died down by now. I don’t think it would be the hard-hitting piece it would’ve at one point.”

“You’d be surprised how much people want to know.” Evan states, looking around him as if those very people had asked him personally questions about the two of you.

You rolled your eyes. “Dude.” Eddie says, out of patience from hearing you complain about him. You watched as Evan’s glance switched to Eddie and his eyes widen in fear. Sometimes Eddie’s reputation was worth it. “Drop it.”

A conscious effort is used on your part to not seem surprised at how hard Eddie’s voice was. Anything close to what you’d heard before was something he would use in good fun. Evan has been border-lining aggressive about it, despite Nancy’s continuous efforts to get him to cut it out.

Evan nodded slowly, the message was received, he waved wordlessly to Nancy and walked out of the cafeteria, looking back at Eddie with wide eyes.

As soon as Evan was out of earshot the three of you break into laughter, hardly believing his reaction. “Pretty sure he went to go change his pants,” Nancy laughed, closing her notepad.

“Can’t believe that worked.” Eddie says relieved smile on his face.

“You were scary.” Nancy states, switching her glance between you two. ‘Scary’ she mouths at you.

“Your brother seems to think so.” Eddie said, glancing towards where Mike and Dustin were sitting at the Hellfire club table.

“He also says that she ruined you.” Nancy laughs, scratching at the back of her neck.

You roll your eyes, used to Mike’s vague irritation aimed at you about his beloved heartless, demonic Dungeon Master. “He’ll get over it.” You remember. “So, Ed. What are you telling me?”

“I was wondering when you were going to ask me.” Eddie says, leaning into you and putting his arm around you. “Well, sweetheart I called up Harrington last night,” concerning, go on, “and I asked him of a favour.”

“I heard he had already given you two a favour.” Nancy comments, writing in her notebook.

The two of you glance at her, unaware of her knowledge of the incident from Halloween. Anyway.

“Wonder how many people just...know.” Eddie comments, scratching his chin. “Anyway, he got us another reservation at Chef’s Table.”

“No shit.” You comment, excitement about doing the date right this time without the first date jitters. “Same table?”

“Same table.”

“Fuck yeah!” You say, pumping your fist in celebration.

“Don’t waste it!” Steve says, seeing your celebratory pump in the air, not knowing if this is what you were talking about but betting on it anyway.

“Go to work!” Nancy shouts back, pointing to the clock on the wall that stated ten minutes until class started.

“Why do you kick him out every morning?” Eddie asks, kissing you lightly on your cheek after he says it.

“Cause then he would be loitering and I’d rather him deal with me than Principal Higgins or the police.” Nancy states, grabbing her stuff to get to her first class. “I gotta go anyway. Yearbook stuff.”

“Guess we should go to class too, huh?” Eddie asks, getting up from his chair.

“Where did Eddie go?” You ask, looking around him dramatically.

“Shut up.” Eddie mutters, tugging you by the hand to head to your locker, as you routinely did.

The week was uneventful to say the least. Quiet conversations with him in the halls and World Geography, loud exclamations in the cafeteria with Hellfire during lunch, written notes exchanged between you and Robin, and a stupid amount of clownery at Family Video. Don’t be fooled, you were also involved in the clownery of course. Eddie visiting you after his gig on Tuesday was a nice surprise, him sneaking in (again) in his leather get up and you tugging him down so you could make out with him and ride him wearing the headband on his head.

Just the headband.

Eddie did try to convince you to hook up in the custodian closet, but you nervously said no to the offer, too scared of the idea of the janitor opening the door in the middle of it.

The third Thursday of November of 1985 rolled around, and it was suddenly Thanksgiving. Your mother spent all morning preparing for the Munsons to come over for dinner. It was filled with constant favours coming your way and doing the little tasks that get lost in the big picture of Thanksgiving. Sure, it was a holiday to get together with your family before Christmas and it was when the holiday spirit started to kick in but man, is it exhausting to prepare for.

You know you love him but when your dad calls from the living room demanding a drink after your sweet mom who has been slaving away in the kitchen all day you want to tell him to get his own damn shit. She has spent all day preparing fucking dinner, for gods sake.

Dressed in your best dress that is both family friendly and makes your boyfriend’s mouth water (the best kind of dress), you’re setting the last of the table settings and cutlery when the front door knocks, knocking the air out of you in the process. Heaven knows why you were even nervous, Wayne being a familiar face to you and Eddie doing movie night with you and your parents are two considerations that lead to a feeling of familiarity and comfort in your mutual families.

The door was opened to two spritely dressed Munson men, both obviously uncomfortable in their best dressed clothes. You weren’t sure you’ve ever seen Wayne dressed in anything but slightly dirty flannel. You were used to Eddie wearing nicer clothing on the occasion, but you preferred him in leather. Eddie wore a smile, the kind he wore when he wanted to water himself down. Wayne simply oozed discomfort. His face was warm, but you weren’t sure if it was the dress clothes or the forced politeness of a family dinner, but he did not seem at ease.

There you stood, in between your mom and dad, wondering how cheesy the three of you had looked for the moment. Was he fighting back laughter at this sitcom of a scenario? Lord knows you were.

A beat passed and your mom was finally the one to break the ice. “Welcome, gentlemen. Come on in, take your coats off.”

“Thanks for inviting us.” Eddie says, and you hate to admit but it sounded rehearsed. Like he and Wayne had practiced it together on the way over.

“Of course! You are welcome anytime; we just made too much food.” Your mom jokes, and the silence in her laughing is deafening.

“I’m just glad I don’t need to cook anything resembling Thanksgiving. It usually crawls away from our plates.” Wayne gruffs out, clearing this throat. You knew Wayne well enough to know that he was joking back to her.

The two men make their way into the door and shrug their jackets off. Eddie must’ve been wearing one of Wayne’s jackets because it just engulfed him, and you figured Wayne yelled at him not to wear the leather. Ed didn’t have anything else, so he borrowed Wayne’s.

As you all make your way over to the dining area, your father starts talking to Wayne, having been on the nightshift together for the last few months since Wayne had picked them up. The two of them continue their quiet conversation, and this is exactly why you and your mom placed Wayne right next to him. They had someone to partake in conversation about work when you and your mom never completely comprehended what it was that he did at work.

Your mom had you all pray, despite you communicating Eddie’s religious stance. She said that doesn’t make him intolerant of those still choosing to believe, and you were on the fence about this idea.

“So, you two, how are your grades?” Your mom asks right off the bat.

Eddie laughs, still admittedly about a D grade though you had helped him go from an F to a D with passing in homework. “They could probably be better in my case, but they have definitely been worse.”

“And you, Y/N?” She asks pointedly to you.

You look up from where you’re scooping the mash potatoes like a deer in the headlights. “I mean, I don’t have anything below a B. Why?”

“You two just do so much studying I figured you were getting straight As.” Your mom says, eyebrow raised deliberately.

You froze, looking up from your plate with wide eyes and your breathing gains major depth. “Mom!”

Wayne’s laughter catches the whole table’s attention, his hand in a fist with the back of it against his mouth, as if he was holding it in. “Hey, I’ve been telling them that this whole time but they don’t seem to get it.”

You couldn’t even attempt to see if your dad had caught on to what these two assholes were trying to imply off the bat. This goddamn supper was supposed to be a nice family gathering. No. Not in the stars. Dang.

Your glance goes next to you to your boyfriend, and he’s laughing as well. It was more the fact that you were both gained on as soon as they got the chance to rather than humour.

“You think we should leave these kids alone?” He asks, still laughing.

“It’s not as fun if I don’t see her embarrassed.” She says, reaching to you to pet your hair fondly. You jerk out of reach, lowkey pissed. “Why not. Just make sure your nephew starts using the door.”

“Door?” Wayne asked, unsure where this could lead to.

“Mmhm. He seems to insist on using my daughter’s window even though I have told him I will keep the door unlocked or give him a key if it means his van doesn’t startle me for the thousandth time.” Your mom tells him, shooting a cheeky glance towards Eddie.

“Edward” Wayne starts, and your mom finally learns his full name for when she wants to yell at him.

“Hmm?” Eddie turns his head to Wayne, already decided he will still use your window.

“Use their front door or you’ll likely not be welcome at their house anymore.” Wayne explains casually, as if he wasn’t telling off his nephew in front of another family.

“Yes sir.” Eddie nods, and his leg shaking mixed with his hand placed gently on your thigh somehow sends a message he wasn’t planning on stopping any time soon.

“So, Wayne. Just out of curiosity-” oh no, “why were you the relative chosen to raise your nephew?” Mom what the fuck?

Two hours and a buttload more of embarrassing questions from your mom and Wayne being a good sport throughout it all, you’re stuck doing the dishes again. How did you do the prep all day and clean up after it now? You swear you were swaying on the spot as you dried the dishes your boyfriend was carefully washing.

You could hear the idle conversation going away from how Wayne grew up through invasive questions during supper to mindless yet comfortable chatter, and it was terribly comforting. “You okay?” Eddie’s voice interrupts your eavesdropping, and you were startled out of it.

“Hmm?” You ask, looking up at him.

“You okay, princess?” Eddie asks, his movements paused as he expressed his concern.

“Why?”

“You’re rocking back and forth. You’ve also been drying this plate for more than five minutes.” Eddie says, gently grabbing the plate from you.

You shook your head, hoping it shakes you out of it. “I-I’m ok.” Sighing, your hand on your forehead to gain a hold of yourself. “I’ve been up and working in the kitchen since this morning. I’m just tired.”

“Sit down. I’ll finish the dishes.” Eddie states, guiding you to a chair.

“No, no it’s fine. I can do it-” you try to tell him, but he is having none of it.

“Sit.” Your butt lands on the wooden chair and the relief as your forehead hits the table is immediate.

“Put the dishes on the counter if you’re not sure where they go, I can finish it off” you tell him through the table, and Eddie slowly finishes the rest of the dishes by himself.

It feels like only two minutes pass by, and your mom walks into the kitchen, “Hey Eddie when you have a minute-” she stops midway through his sentence, seeing you dead asleep on the table.

Eddie turns toward you fondly, smiling softly as he watched the softness of your breathing as you slept. “She passed out basically the moment she sat down.” Eddie says, finishing drying the last of the dishes. “I was just going to finish cleaning up then wake her.”

“Oh. Okay. Um, when you have a minute your uncle said you do labour chores when you need extra cash mind stopping by when she’s at work on Sunday?” Your mom asks, and Eddie nods wordlessly. “Thanks.” Your mom steps out of the kitchen, and her brain has malfunctioned. For the last few weeks, she has caught him looking at you fondly and it assures her that he is someone who cares for you, but this look startled her. That look was not care; it was love. She had wondered if you two had even said the word yet. She had heard certain things, so she knew that was out of the question, but this was a whole new concept to her, and she needed a moment to wrap her head around it.

Eddie finishes putting the plates on the counter places his hand gently on your back. “Baby.” He mutters, hoping not to startle you wake.

Jokes on him, you always startle awake. “Hmm?” You jerk up off the table.

“Hi. Hi.” It takes you a moment to comprehend and for Eddie’s face to unblur in front of you. “You fell asleep. I think we should get you to bed.”

“Does that mean you’re leaving?” You ask pathetically, your mind not completely awake and aware that your parents can all hear this conversation.

He chuckles and wraps his arm around you. “Probably.” You whine about it, still tired and now cranky from being woken up. “We can talk about it, I promise.”

He escorts you up the stairs, aware of all six eyes watching the two of you as if it was the sweetest thing they’ve ever witnessed. God, adults are weird. When you were laid down onto the bed you curled up immediately into your pillow, a content smile making its way onto your face.

“I’ll see you tomorrow night, yeah?” Eddie asks, sitting next to you, not even sure if he’ll get a response. You just hummed. “You better remember.” Nothing came out. “Sweetheart?” he asks, and he’s sure you’re out cold. He leans in to kiss you on your head and mutters, “I love you” and shuts the door as quietly as he can behind him.

Thank God for long weekends. On an ordinary weekend when you had slept over at Eddie’s (Wayne always made sure he was away for the night; more for his sake than yours) Saturdays were taken away from your usual midday shift and suddenly you’re facing a whole week of school and homework on Sunday. You wanted to convince whoever needed convincing weekends needed a third day. You need to spend one more day off with your boyfriend, dammit.

Every Friday you were able to sleep over you made sure you had no homework left over, providing less mental load for when you just want to spend time with him. Thanksgiving had really left little time to make it happen as it usually did, especially falling asleep before 8pm, but the day off provided the time you needed. Who cares, let’s get to the sleep over.

After spending the day bent over your desk, you had packed an over night bag with minimal essentials and were reading an indie fantasy novel he had lent to you when he honked his horn to let you know he was there. He didn’t often honk, as most parents appreciated when boys came to the door, but at this point your mom had understood the deal. You got good grades, you were attending school, and Eddie had proven himself respectful. Seemed you had ‘earned’ the cliché of the bad influence boyfriend honking his horn while blasting his loud death metal music to announce his arrival.

You yell a goodbye and close the door, running out into the early winter air straight to his van. In classic Eddie fashion, he had turned down the loud music when he saw you in the review mirror but continued his headbanging. Considerate, but he’s still doing what he is gonna do. As soon as your door was shut, he put the van into drive and took off to the trailer park.

“What movie did you want to watch?” Eddie asks as he held out his hand to help you out his van. “Are in the mood for like a scary movie, funny, dumb?”

As you step onto the snow and there’s a crunch underneath your foot as you walk to the stairs leading up to the trailer. “I think I want something funny or dumb. Something to laugh at with you.” Eddie smiles at this, and you’re cute as shit.

Eddie goes inside and turns the light on, takes off his jacket and runs around like a headless chicken for a few minutes and you look at the VHS collection for something to watch with him. Eddie comes back from his room, holding a small tin container and a few small ‘gems’. You hold out your pick for him, and he grins maniacally. “I was hoping you would be picking a dumb movie tonight,” Eddie says, watching your ass as you started to set up the VCR.

“Oh, not in the mood for horror? That’s unlike you.” You answer, sitting yourself onto the couch in his arms. “So, what presents do ya have.” You ask, getting a look at what he had gathered from his room.

“I have a proposition for you.” Eddie starts, and you observe he is nervously gnawing on his lips.

“I’m intrigued.” You lean in, already barely paying any attention to the movie already, and the main character hasn’t even been introduced. “Go on.”

He shifts in his seat, hesitating in continuing with his proposal. “You don’t have to, and I would understand if you said no. Sweetheart, I want to get high with you. I do it on my own a bit, but I wanted to show you why I enjoy it, and experience that level of intimacy with you.”

It would’ve been a lie if you said you were expecting this. “I mean, getting high isn’t really my thing.”

Eddie laughs, not maliciously, just out of love. “I’m not expecting you to smoke it everyday. Being high this often comes with a lot of dead brain cells.” He jokes, sticking his tongue out of his mouth. “I do think people need to experience it at least once. It’s super freeing. We can sit here and look pretty and cuddle. I was waiting for a day where you could sleep over when you didn’t have to work tomorrow so you don’t have to see your parents until after you have time to shower.”

On the one hand, your heart stutters at the thought Eddie putting this much thought into smoking with you, giving you the full moment bask it in and recover the next day. On the other hand, the idea of smoking weed had barely crossed your mind, it was on the other realm of your life’s experience. A girl who is getting good grades and too shy to speak to her crush for three whole years is barely spending her weekends being blazed. On a theoretical third hand, there has been an impulsive thought where you had wondered what Eddie was like when he was blissed and why he didn’t seem to feel comfortable getting high around you. “I’m not against it.”

“What’s holding you back?” He asks pulling you against him tighter so you’re basically laying onto him.

“I-I was risen with the drugs bad campaign. Though now that I think about it if my parents go to a hook-up restaurant then they definitely smoked pot. Our elementary school had that assembly that yelled at us about how pot would kill us and there would be adults offering crack cocaine-”

Eddie snorts, interrupting you. “Yeah crack is a bit too expensive to be offering to any person on the street.”

“You’re not who I exactly pictured when they told me about the dangers of drugs, baby.” You answer, remembering the clear picture of a flasher with a trench coat opening to reveal several different labelled drugs. You sigh, and the idea of being in ignorant bliss is feels more tempting.

“Anything else holding you, sweetheart?” Eddie asks patiently, caressing your shoulder as he watches over you patiently.

You adjust yourself so you’re now laying on top of him chest to chest. “I’m scared I’ll get anxious and freak out.”

Eddie rubs your back, understanding this point of view. He did mushrooms about two years ago and it’s the kind of drug that you need to relax into, or you will have a terrible trip. Especially in Eddie’s case before he met his dealer Reefer Rick he would buy and not be 100% sure if what he was taking was safe. Pot is something you want to relax into but if you become hyper aware of your state it’s not detrimental, just shitty. “Yeah, that’s fair. The good news is you are with some one who” LOVES YOU “cares about you and will make sure you don’t smoke too much on your first time. Things get out of hand when you smoke with people who don’t care with you.”

“You wanna help me for my first time?” You ask, the innuendo too much to look over.

“If you got to teach me, why shouldn’t I repay the favour?” Eddie asks, understanding entirely what you meant. You lean in for a kiss, drinking in the feeling his lips never failed to give you. The kiss ends, you stare at him half lidded before nodding your head. Eddie smiles, a glint appearing into his eyes out of nowhere. “I need verbal confirmation, sweetheart. Are you sure?”

You roll your eyes, annoyed at his insistence on getting your consent on a regular basis but there are worse things to annoy you in the world. He just is making sure you don’t feel pressured into something you didn’t want to do. “Yes. Teach me how to smoke weed with you.”

“Cool.” Eddie sits up without warning, startling you as you roll backwards over your feet. When you give him, a warning look of ‘what was that’ he looks apologetic in forgetting you were on top of him in his excitement. “Sorry, sweetheart. I got excited. Holy shit. Ok. Gimme a sec.”

Eddie runs to a spot by the front door and climbs onto a chair and opens a roof vent. He hops off the chair and runs with it to his own room and presumably opens a vent there as well. Eddie jogs back with the chair in one hand and a lighter in the other and drops his chair off at its permanent location. You wondered if he used it for anything other than opening the vents.

He sits down, and he starts to move around his little tins. You watch him, fascinated by watching him work in a way you haven’t been able to see before. “What are you doing?”

You watch him and he pulls out a plastic baggy holding little green leafy clumps and a smell hits your nose you didn’t realize you had recognized. He opens the baggy and grabs one of the smaller clumps and moves on to a metallic round container with the same circumference as a golf ball. You watch his hands work, obviously idle and used to the habit by now. His fingers work to open the round container to show a series of seemingly sharp spikes spread equally around the surface area on both the lid and the bottom. He places the little ball into the circle and closes the container. You hear a grinding sound, like the sound of an Etch-A-Sketch and see Eddie using both hands to turn the container.

Honestly, you had no idea what he was doing or how you were about to smoke it, but it was cool. You watched the rest of the process, Eddie bringing out his rolling papers and filling it with a now smaller but similar substance to the stuff in the baggy and carefully rolling them up. It seemed like an art, almost. When the process was completed, Eddie proudly held up the joint and held it for you to see.

“Ta-da!” Eddie exclaims dramatically, his other hand’s fingers spread out. “I present to you our humble guide.” He puts down the joint and starts to add some to a new rolling paper.

“Are we smoking more than one?” You ask, adjusting yourself so you’re watching what he was doing more closely.

“You are taking two, maybe three inhales from this one. You don’t know it, but it’s decently sized. I, on the other hand, have an intense tolerance for this stuff so I need to smoke a little bit more.

“How much more?” You ask innocently, staring at the lone joint he put down on the table.

“Oh, maybe 5 or 6 more.” He answered casually, starting to roll up the second one. Your eyes widened at this thought, wondering if he was more chronic than you had anticipated. Eddie glances to see your pretty face while he rolls the joint and he laughs at your comically wide eyes. “I might indulge frequently but I never drive while high, made that mistake once and I haven’t seen my uncle more disappointed in me. Even when I said I failed grade 12 again. Trust me. There’s nothing more nerve wrecking than seeing that man’s face on the morning after I had confessed, I drove home while high.”

Eddie slaps his hands on his thighs, the international symbol for ‘alright let’s do this’. “Alright. Do you know how to light or use a cigarette?” He asks, turning his body to face you. You shook your head, bewildered. Has he met you? “Right, so when you inhale, you need to be taking the smoke right into your lungs. An easy trick I have learned to help newbies is to take it into your mouth first, then you sharply inhale to take it into your lungs.” You nodded, your student trained hands itching for a pen to write it down, so you don’t forget anything. “Hold it in for as long as you can. The longer, the better. If, if, if you choose to keep smoking on the occasion, you’ll find that your lung capacity will decrease and you won’t be able to hold that smoke in as long.”

You blinked rapidly, absorbing the buttload information Eddie has just provided you with. You didn’t realize there was so much to it.

“Don’t worry. You’ll stop overthinking about it when it starts to sink in. Warning, since you don’t know what it feels like exactly you might not realize you’re high and then it might hit you pretty hard. Which is why I’m here to provide you assurance.” Eddie warns and comforts you. “Are you still up for it?”

“Bring it on.” You’re not entirely convinced by this yourself, but the details and idea were intriguing to say the least.

Eddie gives you a wicked smile, his dimples pronounced and a crazy look in his eyes you could only assume was bizarre excitement. “Alright. Hold this up to your mouth, I’ll light it and tell you when to inhale.” You tentatively hold the joint for the first time, and it’s more fragile than you had expected. Your shaky hands hold it in a pincer grasp. Your eyes cross and focus on the lighter Eddie puts to the end of it, a white twisty part. The end is lit and spark flies as the end burns up fast. The joint burns up fast, and smoke starts to come out of it. “Now” Eddie gently says, and you start to attempt what he has described to you.

The smoke goes into your mouth, and you could taste what you had smelled when he opened the baggy. Step by step, you remove the joint from your mouth, sharply inhale the smoke into your lungs and a tang of discomfort tells you that you did it right. You thought you might be able to hold your breath for a good amount of time, but your lungs expel the smoke immediately, bringing out a coughing fit.

“That’s a good girl!” Eddie says, patting your back as he takes in his first inhale, dusting ash into an ashtray you hadn’t even noticed was in front of you. “Thirsty?” He asks, offering an ice-cold Coke.

You take the pop with gratitude, wondering how he knew exactly what you had needed. “Good? I coughed it all out.” You asked, curious to what you did was good when he had told you to keep it in your lungs as long as possible.

“Your lungs are clean. Usually if someone doesn’t cough their first inhale it means they did it wrong. Coughing is an excellent sign you did it just right. Need another hit?” Eddie offers the joint back, and it’s noticeably decreased in size, blackened on the end of it.

You nodded, not really feeling anything yet. You took a hit again, using the same steps, not coughing as bad this time. “Don’t you use a glass thing?” you ask, vaguely remembering seeing something in his room once or twice.

Eddie chuckled at your sweet ignorance, finishing the last of the joint you had handed to him. “A bong? Yeah that’s not meant for the first time smoking, sweetheart. Seriously, the last guy I saw try a bong for the first time he threw up almost immediately. It hits your throat a lot harder, even with ice.”

You weren’t sure how ice had anything to do with it, but you didn’t care. An urge to crawl into Eddie’s arms hit and you slowly started to crawl into him. “Wow okay you’re definitely high.” Eddie comments as you sprawl yourself onto his body.

“Huh?” You ask, lying on his chest and half paying attention to the movie. “I can’t even feel it.”

“Sweetheart,” Eddie says, petting your hair. “Look at me.” You turn your head to face him, and he bites back laughter. “Yeah, I knew it. You’re smiling.”

“So? Can’t smile at my boyfriend?” You ask, unsure of what that had to do with anything.

Eddie shakes his head. “No, you can smile, and I love it when I see that beautiful smile, baby. But usually, the smile sitting on your face right now is reserved for the stoned. And you, my dear, are very stoned.”

As you watch the movie, your breathing even and Eddie’s heartbeat in your ear, you start to think about the smile sitting on your face. As it sits you wonder if you can de-smile, so to say. You try to wipe it off your face, but it proves impossible and does the opposite as you giggle from the ridiculousness.

“Definitely stoned.” Eddie says with a fondness in his voice.

“Baby.” You say, crawling up to him. “Can-can we kiss? I want kisses. Please?”

Eddie nods, taking in your half-mooned eyes and your sleepy disposition. “Of course, sweetheart.”

After the two of you make out for a little, Eddie’s knee finding it’s way in between your legs, for the first time you direct him away from going any further. “I-I just don’t think I’m in a good state for that. Keep it PG?”

Eddie agrees without any protest, understanding in full. When the kissing ceases, you lie on his chest for a healthy amount of time, you figure out why they call it being high. It feels like you’re elevated, floating, everything is hazy, and it might take you longer to cognitively function but things feel safe.

You laid on Eddie without talking until well into the credits, and it seemed like you were paying attention to every name it had mentioned. Eddie was tempted to put on one of his favourite marijuana-associated movies, but he was afraid it would just freak you out. He went to the exact opposite and put in the only Disney movie he and his uncle owned, Lady and the Tramp.

When Eddie got up to change the tapes you had protested loudly in him leaving but it was all good when you knew he was only right in front of you. He waddled back to the couch but were terribly irritated when he sat down rather than laying for you to crawl on him again. “You’ll be fine, I’m just smoking a few more puffs so I can lie down with you, ok?”

You nod, leaning back as the Disney credits started. When you saw the title, you smirked at Eddie with what you thought was a side eye mixed with a smirk. Really, you were just smiling wildly, rivalling Eddie’s own wild smile.

Towards the end of the movie, after the talking cartoon dogs started to mess you up a little but you didn’t communicate it on the grounds of not wanting to be made fun of, Eddie gently sets you up, and you get a good look at his face for the first time in a while. You understood what Eddie meant by stoners sport the smile, because he was wearing the same one. “Okay, princess. Bedtime for both of us.”

“I like sitting on the couch with you, though.” You whine, the idea of getting up to go to his bed too much and wanting to sleep there.

Eddie knew why, so he lifts you up onto his shoulders and down the hall to his room, turning off the appropriate lights and the tv on the way there. Your back hits his bed, and you yank onto him, causing him to yelp as his jeans were barely off his ass when he’s attempting to take them off for bed. “Hey, hey! He yells, nearly falling over. Lemme take my shit off then I’ll cuddle ya, you stoner.”

So you do, watching contently as he whizzes around his room getting shit ready for bed. He was tempted to ask if you wanted snacks, but he’ll let you discover the love of the munchies for another day. “How you feel, hmm?” He asks after turning the lights off and getting into bed with you.

“Nice. This is a nice feeling.” You comment, moving your hands across his chest, not sexually, just playing with the light patch of chest hair. “I can see why you and the football players enjoy it.”

“Those guys snort a lot of coke.” He sighs, not aware of what he was saying as he fell asleep.

“Huh.” You answer, and you were on your way to dreamland as well.

The night ends like this, the two of you wrapped up in your own little cocoon. Wayne comes to the house smelling like pot and his ashtray full of new filters on the coffee table with unopened chip bags by the tv. Seemed like you two had a good night, considering you made it to the bed.

The following Sunday Steve and Robin restlessly ask Eddie what you were like while you were high as he crashed Family Video. There seemed to be a collective idea of congratulations towards Eddie for managing to corrupt you more than they ever were. You side-eyed the three of them, pissed at the very idea of ‘being corrupted’; like you were a child.

It was the last week of November, and Mike was getting mad excited about El coming up to see Mike for Christmas. It was debated if Will would tag along to see the gang, but Will was insistent that he spend Christmas with his mom. At least that’s what Mike told everyone.

Dustin and Lucas were both calling Will on a semi-regular basis to inform him on DnD shenanigans and talk yet Mike has some weird hesitance over calling Will. (Despite Dustin nagging him to just fucking call him.) There was a common belief that Mike didn’t even ask Will to come down, but no one actually wanted to ask. Mike is a defensive asshole sometimes.

Regardless of whatever rumours were being spread, even about your own friends, his excitement was according to you, adorable. According to Eddie, it was adorable about the first few times now it’s just annoying.

The Friday when El arrived in the evening Nancy had spent all lunch dreading it, explaining she’ll need a barf bag from the mere mushiness El and Mike were about to present to her square in the face. You let her rant about it, yet secretly was excited for their reunion. (After all, you knew they had a connection.)

As much as you wanted to join them for a reunion, you had asked for them to tape it for you or at least take photos cause you had a hot date at Chef’s Table and you and Eddie wanted to do it right this time.

As you stood at your stuffed closet, you stared at the all the options, wondering about the general dress code for the night. Since your stunt during your first week (you had it down bad) together there has been a silent agreement of anything that you are anxious if you move will show something, you can wear it for him. (Which you have) If his fingers are going there anyway, might as well assist, no?

The phone rings, you allow your mom to pick it up. It’s Eddie. Is…is he not getting ready for your date, too?

“Baby?” You answer, attempting to decide between two aesthetically different dresses, one that is only held on your body by a string. You bought it on a whim with some extra money from work but it hasn’t seen the light of day, hidden in a box in your closet. “What’s up?”

“Yeah hi sweetheart I was just calling to make one thing clear. Wear the smallest dress. Whatever dress you are unsure if you should wear, wear it. You can wear my jacket on the way. Understand?” Eddie says, and you get the idea from his tone that he’s not giving you much of a choice in the matter. Not that you had any protest in his demands, in fact you were going to be well prepped for when the first move was made. “Princess?”

You squeezed your legs tightly to slightly appease the burning in your groin. “Yeah, I hear you, baby. See you soon?”

“Count on it.” The line goes dead.

Well, it’s decided. Tiny little dress held together by sheer stubbornness wins by Eddie demanding it into existence.

Eddie’s phone call was forty five minutes before he was due to pick you up. It gave you forty minutes to get ready. Your makeup went a more natural glam and but your hair a fluffy 80s dream. You wore some thigh high tights to give the illusion of some abstinence to your mother. Your dress sat right where your tights ended, some how perfectly feeding into it.

You were applying the last of your lip gloss on your vanity when the sound of a knuckle knocking thrice against your window startled you. When you open it, there he is, except not in his usual date-night wear. Usually he’s dressed to impress your mom, and while the effort of it turned you on, it was when he wore the leather jackets that got you all riled up. White knights in white shirts are great, fine even, but when he’s coming from a performance in leather you have to do your best not to drag him into the back and blow his brains out.

Tonight, the leather jacket was on over a band tshirt it looks as if he just threw something on. Why did this drench your panties more than his ironed white shirts carefully tucked in unripped jeans ever have? When you lift the window at his request, he lifts one leg in, showing purposely dishevelled jeans and the chain on his left hip. “Hi, baby.” You greet him.

“Hi. Come on, taking you out.” He says simply, his voice calm and deep as he offers you to grab his hand.

You hesitate, your hand lifted slightly as if you wondered what your mom would have to say after her constant insisting that Eddie take the front door if she didn’t see you off for your date.

“You think she’s gonna let you out the door? C’mon. We’ll take the heat for it later. This is our night.” He says, gripping onto your hand tighter than he might’ve intended as he lead you onto your roof. As you’re both halfway running to his van, you giggling the whole time you can see a light turn on and Eddie’s out of the driveway by the time she opens the door.

You’re in for it when you got home.

He’s chuckling with you, his hand effortlessly linking into your own as he recklessly drives to the restaurant. His windows are down, single handily running the hard work you had both put into your hair. Not a single care evaded your body as you relaxed next to him, used to his loud music and his even louder singing. How he managed to head-bang, avoid the police speed-wise, and still stroke your hand with his ringed fingers all at same time eluded you but you had learned to embrace and relax in his craziness.

You smiled at him, the word on your mind. Too scared to say it, wouldn’t everything change? Too scared for it to stay the same.

He pulled into the parking lot, somehow managing to take four spots at once, like some sort of exaggerated asshole. He usually doesn’t park that bad, but it seemed instead dressing to impress, he was dressing himself down to excite.

Excite you, that is.

On some primal level Eddie could tell that the white shirts and coming to front door has overstayed its welcome. Now that you knew him, far better than you ever could by watching him, by talking, laughing, fucking him, a white button-up just isn’t him. Last time he wore it you snapped it off the buttons, ripping the shirt open from the middle.

Even if he wanted to wear the button down he couldn’t, the buttons were still scattered all over his bedroom floor.

He knew you were begging for the side of him you found hot when you were watching him all those years, a scratching, anxious version of you begging to see the rebellious side of him. Not just when he fucks you, when he’s luring you into last minute quickies that just nearly get you into trouble. Even though he’s there underneath the manicured parent-friendly version of him, you want to visually see him. Right there, on your dates. Where he doesn’t have to talk quietly or over politely. You wanted him to be himself. The man you fell in love with.

You knew him. What he liked, what got him all in a twist, what got him really going if you had really wanted to, how badly his parents had messed him up… (Three months can teach you so much, but bitch you knew him.) Point is, you could see passed the put together façade he had put on, even for you and chose behind the person behind it. (You didn’t want the façade on date with you. You wanted him.)

Also he’s just smoking hot, and having him in his jacket with that ruffled hair, across from you on a hot date, it would make you go feral. Which is why when he yanks you out of his van you’re nearly buzzing in excitement. This date was turning out exactly the way you had hoped. A make up date, in every sense.

The two of you burst into the place, still hushed, reserved, and acting like it’s not the hook up spot in town. Now that you no longer had your blinders on, on your way to the table this time you had noticed the couples that were also sitting in here. Most of them were really close to one another talking softly or already kissing. If you had taken the moment to take a look at them it might’ve given you a clue as to what sort of place this was, which would’ve given you the courage you needed when you wanted to make out with him.

A different host lead you this time, handing you both menus and giving you a look on his way back to the front. He understood. You scooted your butt into the round booth, settling at about one cushion from the exit for the table. “Get that cute ass over here.” Eddie tells you, in the middle of the table. He has you scoot down until you’re right up next to him, barely enough room to do anything but talk or let wandering hands go where they might.

A side of you is nervous, shaky at the prospect of being touched like so in public. Every time he tries, attempting to get more frisky, you shyly shake your head no, no matter how exciting it sounds. “You alright, princess?” Eddie asks, soothing your knee with his thumb, sensing your anxiety.

“I’m ok. Should we look at the menu?” You ask, willing to distract your self from the nervousness and the increasingly damp spot on your lacy panties.

“Pretty sure you’re the only thing on the menu, no?” Eddie asks, his hand landing harder on your thigh, massaging it, knowing what he’s doing as he watches your eyes roll back. “Are you up for something crazy?”

“Anything,” you gasp out subconsciously, not completely aware of what slips out until it does.

Eddie laughs, placing his arm around you to whisper in your ear. “Okay, so after someone asks our drink order I’m gonna slip under the table. When they come back, I want you to order our appetizer, let’s say we’ll get some break sticks and beef dip, fuck, I don’t know. Order something. While you do that I’m gonna be tasting that pretty little,” he slips his hand up your thigh to your centre “soaked pussy of yours. Try your best, yeah?”

He takes his hand out from where it was placed, right at your centre were it was exuding warmth as he hears footsteps of the waitress coming. You knew her voice as soon as she started speaking. “Hi, I’m Daisy, I’ll be your waitress. What can I get started to drink for you?”

Daisy was a frequent flyer in your mind when you couldn’t sleep at night. The girl was a sharp reminder of what you thought might take him away from you. The version of her that you remembered was a girl who reminded you of your own insecurities and managed to make a uniform look decent.

This girl was pretty, but not that pretty. There’s a pimple on her forehead that’s a clear whitehead, a piece of lettuce stuck in her teeth, and her slick pulled back hair had boat load of flyaways. Time is kind, and maybe you needed to see her again to know that Daisy wasn’t going to take him, with or without the flaws you had just noticed. He was yours. The look on her face told you that she recognized you off the bat.

“I’ll get a water.” You state, knowing you’ll probably need to remain hydrated.

“Same.” Eddie states, licking his lips in anticipation for when she leaves.

“Alright. I’ll be back to take your order then.” Daisy drones, and this time you realized she was talking to the both of you.

You barely had a moment to watch her walk back and Eddie has already slipped underneath the tablecloth. “Holy shit. So pretty.” He mutters, more himself than to you. He wanted you to fucking stutter while talking and water was an easy drink to grab, so he had to move fast. Your underwear was off in one swift movement, and he attacked your pussy like he was dying of thirst and your pussy was the first drop of water after a week in a desert.

Your eyes closed immediately upon welcoming the warmth and the pleasure that rushes through you. After only moments of basking in the feeling Eddie pinches you, warning he can hear footsteps, and this was the lowest trafficked table in the restaurant it was definitely Daisy. You sit up, opening your eyes quickly and attempting to get yourself out the haze.

“Here’s your water,” she says, not looking up taking her notebook out. “are you ready to order-” she starts, and stops when she realizes Eddie wasn’t anywhere to be seen. “I can come back when he’s back from the bathroom if you need me to.” She says, absentmindedly.

You’re attempted to accept the offer, but Eddie pinches your thigh and uses his tongue harder to encourage you to speak. “Uh-no it’s okay. We decided on some a-appetizers.” You let out a hard breath, and Eddie has started to go to town on you, as if racing you to the finish line.

“Ok go ahead.” Daisy says after she had to search for her pen.

“We’ll have the uh-” you pause, “sorry, stomach-ache. We’ll have the bread sticks and the spinach dip, please.” You manage out, hitting the seat hard when you’re starting to get to the edge.

“Are you guys having any main entrees tonight, or just appies?” She asks, bored and fiddling with her notebook.

Your breathing has gotten shallower and you’re wondering if she has caught on yet. “Uh, no. Just that for now.”

Eddie adds a finger, frustrated that you’re managing to speak so well when you had drenched the leather booth beneath your thighs. The finger nearly makes you yelp and as he crooks it into a hook against your g-spot he brings you right to the edge, impossibly fast yet on a mission.

“Alright then” Daisy grabs your menus, you flailingly push yours to her, barely helping her as you go over the edge with your top teeth biting on your bottom lip hard. Daisy gives you a side eye, walking away weirded out from the interaction.

You ride the last of your orgasm as she walks away starting to ride your hips shamelessly against his mouth as the last wave heats from your center and even makes a pit stop in your head. Eddie peaks his head from behind the table cloth, mouth wet, and a twinkle in his eye as he looks up at you. If you see this face and only this image of his face for the rest of your life you will die happy. “How was that sweetheart?”

“What was that, five minutes?” You ask, grinding your hips lightly as he rubs your labia lightly, teasing how sensitive you now were.

“More like three and a half but who’s counting.” Eddie jokes, sliding to sit back next to you. You notice he’s holding your panties in his hand, sticks in his leather jacket pocket. “You were so fucking wet, which helped a bit, I must admit.” Eddie comments, taking a sip from his water. As soon as the glass his the table his lips are on yours, maneuvering the two of you so you’re intertwined, one leg on his yet still sitting.

He wraps your lips up in a magnificent kiss, connecting his tongue onto yours as soon as he could, just needing the very taste in your mouth. You could taste yourself in his saliva, the very idea absurdly hot. You stay like that, willing to take in whatever you can, taste from him, your hand make it’s way up into his long hair and gripping at the scalp, managing a whine out of him. You can’t help but giggle at his response and he jerks back, his eyes assessing you for a moment, carefully. “What are you giggling at?”

Eddie leans into kiss you, further left than your lips. He leans down to your jaw line, kissing it down and down to your neck. You lean back as he starts to bite and suck on your skin, causing little whimpers out from your pretty lips. “So pretty, so needy.” Eddie comments as your eyes roll back at his love bites.

“Here is you- oh, sorry.” Daisy says, carrying both your appetizers. She sets them down carefully, and Eddie barely moves from where you’re both stationed, as if he was proud of being interrupted in the middle of marking your neck. “A-anything else I can grab the both of you?”

You look at her name tag to check it’s the same waitress who shamelessly flirted with Eddie right in front of you, because she can barely look you in the eye.

“Uh yeah, Daisy can you just leave us alone for about fifteen, twenty minutes then bring us a check? Nice hefty tip in it for ya.” Eddie says, looking at his nails as he says it. It’s rude but it gets his message across. Don’t bother us.

“Got it. Be back in twenty minutes with your bill.” She says, and walks off with out another word, blushing furiously. If she had worked at this restaurant long enough to know when to flirt, wouldn’t she be used to a request like this?

“Alright we have twenty minutes.” Eddie states, and you realized his belt was already unbuckled and his button undone. “C’mon get on.”

“You wanna?” You ask, nodding to his now free cock.

“That was the point, was it not?” He asks, and it’s almost unlike him the way he’s propositioning you. Usually, he’s soft and restrained in his methods. Even when he’s asking you for a quickie there’s a softer tone.

Right now, he basically point-blank said to just get on his dick. This side of him doesn’t usually come out until you’re already on it, using slut-shaming as a method to egg you and him on. However, the most surprising thing about it was this had worked on you. You were turned on by how rough he was. “I guess, I thought we were doing just hand stuff.”

“That’s ok for the lighter booths. This is not the one for hand stuff. It’s in a corner for a reason. C’mon. Hop on daddy’s dick.” He says, wrapping his arm around your waist to tug you closer to his hips.

It doesn’t take much convincing for you. You move your leg around his hip so you’re straddling him, and your dress is scrunched up to your stomach, revealing your ass to anyone who would pass you by. He lines his cock up to your entrance, rubbing and tapping lightly, teasing you. “We have fifteen minutes, put your fucking cock-” before you could even finish your sentence he pushes himself into you and your eyes roll into the back of your head as he fills you up.

He starts fucking you, foregoing any waiting period due to how wet you already were. After letting you enjoy his continuously improving hip thrusts and technique he stops, moving his hands to your hips. “Alright. Your turn. Ride me, baby.”

You start to move your hips, rolling them so his cock his a spot you need it to every time. You were perched tall and your mouth in a small oh shape, gasping out little moans as you worked your hips. Eddie reaches down to expose a tit, starting to massage and kiss at it. “Oh you little slut, couldn’t even wait until we got home, eh?”

“You didn’t- oh- you didn’t give me much choice.” You gasped out, staring at Eddie as he still wraps his tongue around your budded nipple. “I would do so much for you, daddy.”

“Oh, you have, baby. You have. Oh shit- yeah keep riding me like that, oh, shit. Gonna fill you up.” Eddie grunts, starting to help you as you ride him.

“Already?” You half joke, feeling as his thrusts become more erratic and harder.

“Oh I’ll fill you the amount of times fifteen minutes gives me, sweetheart. Whether that be once or six times, you’ll be dripping in me by the time we leave.” Eddie continues to thrust into you, and you’re basically literally hopping on it. He freezes all of the sudden, his face jerking in a small O shape as you feel him fill you up.

“More?” You ask after a moment as he catches his breath while he’s still in you.

“You want more?” Eddie asks, his hands on your hips, rubbing your stomach lightly with his thumbs. As he rubs your stomach, feeling it grumble in hunger. “Hungry, sweetheart?”

“A little.” You admit, thinking about the smell of the still fresh bread.

“Hmm. One more then we’ll sit down and eat?” Eddie asks, starting to fuck into you again.

It felt too good to pass up. You nod as he continues faster, licking your two pointer fingers rub at your clit to help yourself and him and you two enjoyed taking your time but it seemed the combined hunger and the combined lust you two felt just turned into this animalistic need for one another and for food.

Is this what cavemen felt?

By the end your nails were digging deep into his neck, he’s holding your ass hard enough to cause bruising. Your legs are sore from doing a lot of the work and you’re out of breath and usually you would take a time out from it, but you were just horny and hungry and wanted him.

You grabbed at his scalp, scratching your hand into grabbing a fistful of hair and pulling. Eddie’s eyes roll into the back of his head, most times you missed is when he knew your eyes were closed. It was basically that and the fact that he was unloading for the second time into you within ten minutes that had you be able to cum yourself, lurching yourself into his chest. An instinct that took over you for a moment startled Eddie, but he was ready to help how you needed. You just needed to be held. Specifically by this man, this man who you just experienced this moment with, this bonding just completely shook you.

The first thing he did to help was make sure if you cried long enough for Daisy to come with the check you were decent, (and so was he.) He only offered to hold you, offered bread when given the chance, which you graciously accepted, as you were still hungry. “You okay?”

“I’m okay.” You say softly, offering him some spinach dip. He slurped it off your fingers, in attempt to make you laugh, and it worked.

“Hey you laughed!” And you knew why you were crying.

“What you thought I was sad?” You ask as if you knew this whole time. “I’m really fucking happy, baby. I just didn’t know how to respond or process it, so my brain went to crying. ”

“No regret? Shame? We’re okay?” Eddie asks, just to be sure.

You nod, leaning in for a nice chaste kiss. You two are hushed conversation, teasing one another in a game of “oh I can take you on” for different board games Eddie knew about. You weren’t very competitive but with Eddie during games, especially when he cheats, is always a winner so you had to figure out how to stop him.

Daisy knocks twice on the booth, and Eddie yells out “We’re good!” You giggle, pushing him as he gives annoying kisses to your face. “Hi guys, here’s the bill.”

A pang of guilt as you see her face again is presented to you, in the after glow of cumming as hard as you did. The flyaways in her hair frame her face nicely, her pimple looks like she had picked at it so now it’s a scab, ouch, and the green in her teeth hasn’t been fixed. She looks like a fucking person. Not some whore who’s trying to take your boyfriend.

“Hey Daisy. I’m so sorry, you have something stuck in your teeth.” You tell her with the kindest voice you could muster so she knew you weren’t being catty. “I also wanted to say your lip gloss is amazing. Both times I’ve come they have stayed on your lips the whole time. Are you just like reapplying consistently or do you have gloss you need to tell me about?”

It all came out at once, but you did want to know. Reapplying gloss at work gets so taxing sometimes. “Uh thanks, I think it’s by MAC.” She pauses as Eddie looks at the check, lost in your conversation all the sudden. She pauses but he takes another minute to get his wallet out. “I got it when we had the mall. There is a MAC across down, like ten minute drive and way out of the way but it’s the exact store. All their glosses stay forever.”

“Baby, grab your jacket before you pay.” You request, getting him to listen to you before he does. You take out 100 from his pocket, (the food was 20 bucks maybe), and say “Keep the change, and thanks for giving us the time. We’ll make sure to get this booth next time.”

“Uh, sure. Have a great night, guys.” The only thing that would’ve made it weirder if she apologized for flirting with him last time. She didn’t, life isn’t always a movie.

As you follow Eddie out, yanking his leather jacket as he had promised and it’s nearly Christmas and you’re out side at 9’clock you were gonna need it. The leather jacket fitted nicely down to your hemline of your dress, showing exactly what you wanted to.

Your hands are once again interlocked, talking softly as he drove gently back to his trailer. It was an off week so you weren’t spending the night but your curfew was midnight so you might as well be. “You know, Steve made a joke about you me and him yesterday, and I was like ‘You can’t handle another threesome from us.’” You partially joke.

“Oh I dunno I heard some shit I gotta have to chance to see. Why was I the dude that sucked dick I wanted a turn. Plus, I wanted him to top me.” Sounds like he had thoroughly thought this through before.

“Oh baby.” You say giggling, feeling hazy and ready to sleep for hours. “I love you, but you could not take Steve Harrington. I can’t-” You stop, and wake right back up when you realize what you had just said. “Did I just say…” you drift off.

Eddie slows down as he hits the gravel in his trailer park, breathing heavily as he barely reaches 5 miles per hour right to his spot. “Yeah, you just said.” Eddie nods, wondering if he had heard you right.

“When I was talking about-”

“Steve Harrington railing me? Yeah, you did.” There’s a smile in his undertone, letting you know he was quite pleased. “Did you mean it?” He asks, and the word is suddenly choking him, refusing to stay in

“Yeah. I do.” You say, petting his hand gently as you veered into his beautiful brown eyes.

“Fuck, I love you too.” He mutters, under his breath and completely winded by it the word finally breaking free of his throat. “I love you. I love you.” You giggle as Eddie holds your forehead and aggressively smooch into your forehead. “Fuck I’ve wanted to say that for weeks. I love you.”

You smile, thinking how he was sounding like a love struck dope, something that you usually fell into. How much it would’ve been true if Eddie, with his emotional trauma, was saying it.

“I love you.” You wanted to say it on purpose instead the middle of a random already forgotten sentence. “I really love you. I love you.” It came out as you were connected by the foreheads and his response is a sharp inhale and he kissed you in full force.

That was the night you fucked three more times until you went home.

That Saturday morning you spent twenty minutes asking yourself if last night was real, if any of your life was real. Remembering the look his eyes as he cradled you, fucking you gently, rolling his hips ever so slowly. You’ve never felt so loved before, by anyone, let alone any man.

You found it hard not to giggle as you run downstairs to grab some breakfast. You were spreading butter on a bagel with a stupid smile on your face when your mom slides right next to you, arms crossed and facial expression unreadable. You nearly ask what’s wrong when the memory of you slipping through your window last night hits your face, Eddie saying ‘we’ll deal with it in the morning.’

Well, it’s morning.

“Hi.” You mutter, starting to munch on the bagel absentmindedly.

The sound of her sigh invades your ears, and you’re scared for your social life. “Hi. I think you can guess what I would like to talk about.”

“I have some guesses.” You joke, leaning up against your counter.

“I know you’re 18. Technically you’re an adult. Hell when I was 18 I was already in college doing much more scandalous things than sneaking out my bedroom window.” She admits, mostly to herself than to you. “Sometimes I think I’m pretty lucky to have a girl who started rebelling in her senior year and still manages to keep her grades up.” She sighs, looking around her, wondering how the hell she was going to get the message across. “Look, honey something has been going on in this town. Every time something goes on, every year, I have no idea where you are until hours after when I’m picking you up all bloodied and bruised up like you’d gone to war. I’ve never asked because you don’t seem too keen on telling me. Me knowing where you are has nothing to do with your boyfriend who plays guitar or being controlling. It has to do with Hawkins. I just need to know you are safe. If you two are so insistent on using the damn window then tell me good bye that you’re heading out. I don’t want to fight the wrong fight on this.”

It had never occurred to you that she had been curious about the number of times you needed a ride home sporting some new bruises, she never talked about it, never asked. You wonder if her and Karen ever talk about it.

“So I can keep using the window, I just have to tell you when I’m leaving?” You ask, making sure it was clear.

“Yes. You looked happy. Hate to burst your bubble. Anything on your mind?”

Your body felt like it was about to explode. “I told him I loved him. He said it back. It was a pretty nice date.”

“Must’ve been. Chef’s Table, I bet?” She asks, starting to clean up the kitchen post-breakfast.

“I never agreed nor denied.” You comment, shoving the last of your bagel in your mouth.

She lets it slide, knowing that you have even told her you had used the L word was a pretty big miracle in the land of raising Teenage Girls. “Any plans for the day?”

“El just got in from the airport, she’s staying at the Wheelers so I’m going to stop in and say hi to her.” There was a hint of excitement, having been months since you’ve last seen her. Fresh from a winning battle yet mysteriously lost her powers. From what Mike informs you her letters express having made several friends and enjoying California. You’re mostly jealous she’s not suffering an Indiana winter and in the Californian winter.

“Alright. Go on. Start telling me when you’re leaving the house. I don’t need to know where you are all the time. Just tell me where you are.” You finish off chewing the rest of your bagel, running up the stairs to grab your bags and keys to head out.

The moment you arrive at the Wheelers you can tell everyone had beaten you to it. It was only 9 in the morning how was everyone already there? You mention a hello to Karen on the way down the stairs, noting her flustered stature as she rushes to make snacks for 8 hungry teenagers. She didn’t seem too bothered, this was her in her prime.

“Someone slept in this morning!” Steve welcomes you as you walk down the stairs.

“How are you all here, it’s barely 9.” You comment, knowing all the boys sleep in on the weekends.

“I live here and you won’t leave.” Mike states, sitting on the couch with El on his lap. You tilt your head, noting his hypocrisy.

“We all slept over in the basement last night.” Max states, sitting separately on the couch, Lucas at her feet.

“Oh damn. I mean when Steve got us the table he didn’t really give us a choice to the date of the reservation.” You comment, leaning up against a table next to Robin, placing your head on her shoulder.

She bumps her shoulder and Nancy comes from across the room. “Ooh, how was your date anyhow?” She attempts to ask you in a hushed tone, but it doesn’t work. Steve announcing your entrance was enough to keep everyone’s attention on you still.

“Yeah I’m not saying shit while the younglings are here. You’ll have to hold.” You state, aware of your audience.

Steve comes over, dumb little smirk on his face. “So there is something to say? A good night in the best booth in the restaurant, eh?” He asks, elbowing you obnoxiously.

You roll your eyes, and Steve takes it as confirmation. Walking away, you yank onto El’s hand, causing her to help as you lift her surprisingly easily to give her a hug. “Hi, El.” You greet her, and it feels like old times when she holds onto you tightly like you to her.

“Hi.” She smiles, and you look at her hair, brushed somewhat and looking more like Joyce’s.

“Good flight?” You ask as she crosses her arms self consciously. Mike reaches out behind her to soothe her, and sometimes you forget how well Mike knows her.

“Ears hurt.” She shrugs, and it’s the only thing she has to comment on. “You went on a date?”

“Yeah, with my boyfriend.” You confirm, and while you and El weren’t close like her and Max, it’s still weird to you that she knows next to nothing about Eddie. Probably because El was almost a gateway conversation into the upside down for you. You couldn’t not associate the two.

“Babe.” Interrupts the two of you, tugging her back. You shoot a warning glance, telling Mike she doesn’t get to hog her. Mike rolls his eyes. “You know Eddie, the guy I was telling you about? The one who leads Hellfire and is like, a total badass?” The look on El’s face tells you she recognizes the name, and the falsehood of Eddie’s reputation to even his freshmen might be the death of you. “Yeah, that’s her boyfriend.”

“Oh.” El comments, and with the doe-eyed facial expression she gives you it’s all she needs to tell you.

“He’s much sweeter than his reputation.” You mutter to her, and Mike tugs her back to his lap.

“I refuse to believe that.” Mike comments, and the conversation is over. “Is Eddie coming over?” Mike asks you, watching the tv just next to you.

“I didn’t realize it was a big get together, honestly.” You admit, wondering if it would be odd for him to join.

“Well call him up and bring him over! We need some of that competitive spirit for our games, woman!” Dustin yells from across the room, haphazardly throwing you the phone.

“Are we playing games for the day? When did anybody communicate this to me?” You ask, dialling Ed’s number.

“If you were here last night, you would know.” Steve comments, a tone saying he had you.

“I didn’t set the date for my reservation, Steve. You picked the closest available date and just plopped it into our hands. Literally.” It was a folded piece of paper he tossed at you at work one night after you asked for the date.

“Just get him over here.”

Turns out, El loves Eddie. He’s loud, obnoxious, and charismatic. El hasn’t had much experience with someone so loud yet so welcoming to her. He gave her a seat at the table when he had offered to host DnD only if everyone played. (To your surprise and to Eddie’s everyone did.)

Sometime during the night when one of the newer players are being explained a concept thoroughly by Dustin, Eddie looks to you, same dopey look he wore last night. You sat right next to him, looking around the corner of his books. “Love you.” He mutters, proud of being able to say it to you and you saying it back to him.

“Love you.” You mutter back, leaning in for a sappy kiss.

“Love?” Nancy asks, leaning in and making sure she heard right.

“Last night.” You whisper, winking at her widened eyes.

The game finishes off with Eddie’s final boss being ripped to shreds by some of the newcomers, and you can tell it’s on purpose. He had once confessed Eddie gives easier creatures to newer players, it gives them incentives to continue to play. DnD is a hard game to get into, it’s easier when you have the confidence.

Max is sitting in the corner when all is done, some by the N64, others sitting in a circle talking on the floor. She has her Walkman on her hip as she normally does, and you can hear the vague notes to the music she was playing. You raise your eyebrow to her, the international symbol for “Are you good?”

She nods, hugging her legs. Max comes to sit down next to her, unsure how to help, yet comforting all the while.

“Hey baby.” Eddie mutters when all the DnD is tidied up.

“Hi. I think they’re all planning to stay over for a while.” You comment, and it doesn’t look like anyone was planning on leaving anytime soon.

“That’s alright. An extra night with this crowd is always a plus.” He answers, enwrapping you in his arms.

“Hey El. Any reason why Johnathan and Will stayed?” You ask, knowing Nancy probably missed her boyfriend.

El looked over, munching on the chips in Mike’s bowl. “Wanted to spend Christmas with Joyce.” She said, looking to Mike for reassurance, for which he obliges.

There was a follow up question you had wanted to ask, but Eddie would have questions. Was it weird being in town? Why would it be weird?

Since El received more time off for her Christmas vacation, she’d be in town for two weeks. The only downside to that is she starts school earlier in the summer than you do. You still had to go to school for Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday until your Christmas break started. While Mike was at school, she would spend the days with Karen or just generally in town. It didn’t seem like it was planned well, but any questions were met with defensiveness.

“She’s cool.” Eddie comments, you still wrapped in his arms. “Why she with him?”

“He’s good to her when others weren’t. I’ll just say that.” You comment, and Eddie veers at you questioningly. “It’s not my story to tell.”

The rest of the day was a movie marathon, the whole crown collectively booing Steve’s choices, Robin proudly leading the banter. To rub in the salt, you offer the same movie Steve offered and the entire group agrees to it, saying it was a satisfying movie with a great ending. Steve grows flustered, going in the corner with his hands on his hips. As you place the tape into the VCR, Eddie goes to where Steve is sulking, partially joking but mostly sincerely comforting him.

“It’s okay, not everyone understands your clearly superior tastes.” Eddie comforts him, sitting Steve so he’s joined the rest of the crowd.

You expected Eddie to sit down next to you again but he sits down beside Steve, petting his hair comfortingly. “I swear if you hadn’t snatched him up, Steve might have.” Robin says, coming to sit next to you.

“Well that” you say, pointing to them now leaning on one another, “is your fault for the night. You say you hate when Eddie and him gain up on you at work then you basically guide them into one another’s arms. Are you trying, Buckley?”

“Are you?” Robin asks, and you have no rebuttal.

Christmas rolled around, and you spent more time with your boyfriend and your collective family than you would’ve liked to admit. He was a good sport as your mom asked him to do favours consistently through the nights spent in your home living room. Eddie and Wayne came over for the 23rd and 24th, you doing a gift exchange at the Wheelers on the 25th and spending that night over at the Munsons, a courtesy your mom had given you despite your dad’s protests.

Your gift to Eddie was special made dice with the same pattern as his most priced possession; his guitar. You weren’t even sure the advertisement had gotten your request for special made dice at one of the nerd shops you visited the town over, until you gotten a phone call. The look on his face when the dice were opened was priceless, whispering “no fucking way” as he examines the dice more closely. You had also gifted some high quality paints for his figurines and a new set up for him to be able to place his papers and maps in front of him.

I could tell you what Ed had gifted you, but that would take the fun out of it now wouldn’t it. Take the perfect give and multiply it by five. That’s what he gave you.

You had a second gift for him, only available the night you spent over at his house. As you undressed yourself, unwrapping yourself to reveal the red lacey lingerie bra and the crotchless panties upholstered to some red sheer stockings, he only took a moment to appreciate his view before ravishing you until it was no longer Christmas.

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