#now he just needs a campaign lol

[leftski-art]

shoutout to BG3 for making me love dragonborn 🔥

[martyrbat]

detective comics #509

[ID: Bruce Wayne sleeping in his penthouse, his eyes squeezed shut as the narration reads, ‘Gordon's strained laugh sounds hollow, but it echos in the Batman's mind... and haunts his dreams...” Bruce awakens to a hand on his shoulder and before he can think, he's twisting it and holding it down. The panel expands, revealing the hand belongs to Alfred as he's almost toppling over! He cries out, “M-master Bruce—my arm!” as Bruce groggily realizes who it is. He lets go at once as Alfred moves to the end of the bed and holds his arm while stammering an apology, “S-sorry, s-sir... Sorry if I startled you.” Bruce looks at him with aghast as he cries out, “My god, Alfred—I almost broke your arm!” Alfred reasons, “You must have been having a nightmare, sir.” as Bruce sits up and puts his face in his hands. He weepily dismisses, “A nightmare—what kind of an excuse is that? Old friend... forgive me...” Alfred reassures, “Nothing to forgive, sir. Just bad nerves, sir.” END ID]

[jack-gourdon]

Jrwi episode 98 spoilers

I’m having totally normal late night thoughts about this episode.

I just imagine as Gillion is laying on this table, trying with all his power to stay awake, in a fully delirious ramble, constantly asking May where Chip and Jay are as she can only just reassure him that they’re coming. Not because he’s concerned for himself, but in his state completely forgot they left to go save his life, and that he’s worried for their well being. Until the very end, putting everyone else’s in front of his own needs. And as the remaining of his strength begins to leave him, where his vision starts to fade, his hearing goes quiet, and his breathing slows, tears pool from the corners of his eyes and they trail down the side of his face as he can do nothing but sink into this abyss, so tired. He doesn’t fear his death, but he mourns that it’s happening, that Chip or Jay aren’t here to see him off. But maybe it’s better for them to not see him in his final moments.

And in this darkness, he can do nothing but sink further and further down, suffocating. Until there’s this golden light that appears from above, and it grows brighter until it engulfs him into it.

His eyes open. And he’s on the ship, Chip was telling Ollie about these cookies filled with raspberry filling, Jay was navigating the ship and besides her sat this shirt round grey creature with a puffy striped tail, it’s peaceful as they sailed along the waves. It feels like he can breath again, the pain on his chest gone, this ever looming dread hanging over him is gone. This was nothing more than a dream, but it would be a calm one.

[oneforthemunny]

iscador |dom!eddie munson x sub!reader|

prompt: eddie thinks mistletoe is stupid. you put in place a new 'tradition' to make it more interesting. to boost his christmas spirit, of course.

apart of my holiday series munny's merriest <3

contains: smut minors dni. dom/sub themes and undertones (but not too many in this work this ones more cutesy and sweet and silly lol). oral male receiving. dom!eddie/ sub!reader. brat!reader. brat tamer!eddie ofc. eddie is a scrooge and reader loves christmas lol. really sweet and silly.

“Eddie! Can you come here?” 

The trill in your tone had him wincing, eyes pinching closed, fist still closed around the pencil, rubbing his knuckles against the center of his forehead. Eddie had managed to drown out the obnoxious Jackson 5 Christmas tape you’d mutilated his beloved boombox with. He just wanted to finish the campaign. 

“Eddie!” Sharper now, your voice held an agitated bark that had him groaning in annoyance, head tipping back towards the ceiling- the only place in the trailer that seemed void of your holiday cheery. 

“What?” Eddie snapped, slamming the pencil on his small wooden desk, shoving the chair back on the carpet. His feet were already falling in hard, sock clad steps towards the living room, brows still in a furrow under his bangs. 

He found you standing on a kitchen chair, drug under the door frame that led from the kitchen to the living room, balancing in your socks, holding a small, felt mistletoe to the top of the door frame. 

“I need the hammer and the nail.” Your bottom lip jutted gently, eyes rounding sweetly towards him. “I left it on the table. Will you get it for me?” 

Eddie huffed but still trudged towards the kitchen. “Get down, alright?” A ringed hand patted your hip gently, offering up to you to help you down. 

“Why?” You frowned. “You can squeeze by.” Your head jerked towards the sliver of space between the chair and the wooden frame. 

“I know but I don’t want you to fall, baby.” Eddie squeezed the flesh of your hip lightly. “Don’t really want you to bust your head open trying to hang this shit up.” 

You huff, hand sliding into his, stepping off the chair with the felt mistletoe still in hand. “It’s not shit.” You glare at him, moving the chair out of the way, so he can slide through and retrieve the hammer and nail. “You better quit talking bad about my decorations, Munson, before you get coal in your stocking.” 

Eddie snorted, eyes rolling. “You gonna put coal in my stocking?” 

“Not me,” Your lips curled in a smirk you tried to swallow, leaning against the door frame. “Santa will.” 

Eddie let out a bark of a laugh, twisting the small nail around his fingertips. “Oh no,” He played along, though his voice was dripping in sarcasm. “I guess I better shape up then.” 

“Mhm,” You sighed, tongue running over the inside of your cheek, lidded eyes watching his shirt ride up when he lifted the nail, centering it over the door frame. A sliver of his tummy peeking under the soft cotton hem, boxer band peeking out in a nearly teasing way. 

“Right there?” Eddie’s tongue poked out, holding the nail in concentration. 

“Baby,” Eddie grunted, an edge of irritation in his tone that had your gaze snapping back to him. “Right there?” 

“Uh, yeah, yeah that’s fine.” You swallowed the pooling saliva in your mouth, cheeks hot with fluster you hoped Eddie couldn’t see. “That looks good.” 

He didn’t, you thought, as Eddie hammered the nail into place, his hand twisting to extend towards you, fingers wiggling for the felt mistletoe in your sweaty palms. 

“There,” Eddie stepped back, hands on his hips, looking up at the hung decoration. “How’s that look?” 

You couldn’t care less about the decoration anymore, teeth pulling at your bottom lip, rolling it in thought. “Looks good.” You hummed, eyes trailing down his frame, towards his sweatpant clad ass. “Thank you, baby.” 

Eddie turned, brows furrowed at your dreamy tone. “No problem, sweetheart.” He muttered, setting the hammer back on the kitchen table. 

You stepped under the frame before he could pass back through, a devious little grin, that he was too familiar with, spread tight across your lips. “What’re you doin’?” Eddie huffed lightly with a lifted brow. “I helped you, now, I gotta go finish my campaign-” 

“-Look,” You grinned, nodding upwards, towards the felt mistletoe that hung above you both. “Hm, what a coincidence that we’re both here. Underneath the mistletoe. Must be fate.” 

Eddie’s lips curled, though he gave you an exaggerated eye roll. “Must be.” He muttered, hand sliding over your face, cupping your jaw. Your heart fluttered with excitement, fist balling at his shirt when he pulled you in, lips pressing to yours- but only for a moment. 

Your eyes flew open, fist still tightly wrapped around his shirt, mouth gaping with shock when he pulled away. “There. Is that the magical Christmas kiss you were wanting, sweetheart?” Eddie mocked lightly. 

You blinked up at him, scoffing after a moment. “You call that a kiss?” 

“What?” 

“What was that?” You lifted a brow, snarling up at him. “A kiss? That was not a kiss.” 

“Baby, please,” Eddie sighed, running a tired hand over his eyes. 

“No,” You shook your head, arms crossing over your chest. “You freaked out on me when I pecked you at your show a couple months ago because it wasn’t a proper kiss, and now, the one place you’re supposed to give me a real kiss, you don’t?” 

You ignored his eye roll and the short, irritated huff he gave. “We’re literally under the mistletoe!” 

“Ok? So what?” Eddie snapped, throwing his hands up. “I kissed you. That was a kiss.” 

“That was not-” 

“-Don’t.” Eddie pointed a finger at you. “It’s just- It’s just a silly tradition thing tha-that I don’t think is supposed to be taken so seriously.” He threw his hands out. 

You glared at him, brow lifting in challenge. “Hm,” Your lips twisted. “I think it should be taken seriously.” 

“Really?” Eddie deadpanned. 

“Yes,” You hummed in defiance. “And I think you should take it seriously too, and I think I’m going to make you.” 

“Make me?” Eddie snorted in surprised disbelief. “You’re gettin’ pretty bold there, baby, you better watch it.” 

Your tummy flipped with heat, tensing to keep yourself from squirming under his darkened glare. “No, I know I can make you.” You challenged. “At least make you appreciate it more.” 

“Yeah? How’re you gonna do that?” Eddie leaned against the doorframe, glaring at you down the slope of his nose. 

You glared back at him, eyes locking with his just enough to have his spine straightening, bristled by your defiant attitude and ready to adjust it. You could see him, sense his growing agitation with your brattiness, teetering towards acting on it with the way his hands twitched. He’d just begun to uncross his arms when you dropped to your knees, your eyes on him the entire time. 

“What-What are you-” Eddie’s words caught in his throat, strangled by the gasp of breath that tore from his lungs when you yanked his sweatpants down, tugging them down with his boxers in one quick movement. 

You broke eye contact with him for a second, tongue running over your bottom lip as you looked at his cock hanging in front of you, semi-hard from the excitement your brattiness had brought. Your thighs pressed together, hands still on his thighs, squeezing the flesh lightly. 

“What do you think you’re doin’, hm?” Eddie’s voice was tight, swallowing back a shivered moan at the sight of you, face centimeters from his cock, so close he could feel your breath. 

“Making you like the mistletoe.” You hummed so sweetly it made Eddie’s knees weak, eyes rounded and blinking up at him. Oh, how he ached, craved for you to touch him. 

“That right?” Eddie said around a shaky breath he tried to conceal. “This a new tradition, hm?” 

You nodded, fingertips ghosting over his skin, trailing down the bush of pubic hair with a teasing, featherlight touch towards his cock. “Until you’re ready to fully embrace the mistletoe tradition,” You purred, the pad of your thumb brushing over his tip. “I figured this will help ease you into it. Really get you into the holiday spirit.” 

“Fuck,” Eddie grunted, mind blanking with any sarcastic, teasing remark he once had when your tongue licked a long, slow stripe on the underside of his cock. Tongue flattening until you reached the top, taking just the tip in your mouth. 

“Look at me,” Eddie said between clenched teeth, both his hands on either side of your head, desperate to regain a little bit of control. 

Your eyes moved up to him, cheeks hollowed as you bobbed, slowly enough that it had Eddie swallowing a whine. Your nails dug into the fat of his hips, steadying yourself as you swallowed him further and further down your throat. 

“Holy shi-it,” Eddie’s voice cracked, head tilting back and toes curling when you gagged gently, the tip brushing the back of your throat. “Baby, fuck- keep doin’ that. Feels s’good, so fuckin’ good.” 

One hand slipped from his hips, cupping his balls gently, giving a soft squeeze that had Eddie groaning, whimpering with pleasure. Your hand slipped around his length, pumping him slowly, head ducking under to lick down the seam of his sac, wrist flicking and twisting his cock- exactly how he liked it. You knew exactly what he liked, what drove him crazy and left him begging for more. 

“You gotta- Baby, I-I’m close.” Eddie’s breath was ragged, his grip tightening on either side of your head. 

Your mouth took the place of your hand, eyes fluttering back up to him, cheeks hollowing as you sucked the tip of his cock. Eddie sucked a breath in, tensing with pleasure as he teetered closer and closer to his own orgasm. 

“Put your tongue out, now.” Eddie gritted, moving his hand to grab his own length. “Open up, all the way out- good girl.” 

You nearly whimpered at his praise, tongue folded over your chin, eyes still trained on him as he jacked his length furiously, cheeks reddening with splotchy heat until you felt the thick, hot ropes of cum on your tongue. 

Eddie’s head was spinning, cloudy with pleasure as he slumped against the doorframe, chest filled with ragged breaths that rattled his core. He didn’t even try to hide the loud groan that spilled out when you swallowed, eyes batting up at him sweetly, still on your knees. 

“Fuck, that was…” Eddie wiped his brow, sweaty and prickling with heat under his bangs. “Ok, I-I think I’m starting to get the mistletoe thing, baby.” 

“Yeah?” You purred, standing slowly, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand- it made Eddie’s knees weak. “You like this better than the kiss?” 

“Yes.” Eddie nodded leaving you giggling. “Still might need some more convincing though. Still on the fence.” 

“Are you? That wasn’t good enough?” You lifted a brow. 

“No, no, that was fucking amazing, sweetheart.” Eddie shook his head frantically. “Just… I don’t know, I’m kinda a Scrooge. Might need just a few more times to really get me into the spirit, ya know?” 

“Hm,” Your lips twisted playfully. “I think I could maybe do that.” 

Eddie grinned, positively beaming and silly, gooey with adoration. His hands reached out for you again, cupping your cheek, the back of your head, pulling you into him, bodies flushed and lips crashing into yours. You squealed gently, giggling when he pressed you against the doorframe, smooching you sloppy and sweet and filled with so much love it left you dizzy. A much more passionate kiss than before. 

Your eyes were shining when Eddie pulled back, his breath caught in his throat at the sight; you always had that effect on him. “See? It’s working already.” You grinned. “That was a real kiss.” 

Your smile and giggles were infectious, leaving Eddie’s own lips curling, chest bubbling with affectionate laughs. “That was better?” 

“Much better.” You nodded, hands sliding down his arms. “Much more festive.” 

Eddie pulled you into his chest, squeezing you in a tight hug. He wanted to press your body into his, push so tightly into the two of you fused together, bodies and souls and minds all intertwined into one. Instead he held you, peppering kisses to your cheeks so you squealed and laughed. His eyes caught the small felt decoration above the door frame, lips curling in a smug grin. 

He really was enjoying the mistletoe, already contemplating going out and buying one for each door frame in the house- hell, even one for over the bed. Eddie Munson’s favorite decoration was now the mistletoe, so much so that he wanted to keep it out year round. 

[buttercuparry]

This is ridiculous now. We have so many people posting about Siraj. We have so many artists holding commissions or raffles for Siraj, and yet for hours on end Siraj's campaign stagnates.

In 6 hours today Siraj raised only $25 CAD in donation!

A man spends hours on this godforsaken website to network with people, he spends hours away from his family- risking his life just so he may get an Internet connection to reach out to you all, and then for all of his trouble, he gets to raise only $25 CAD in 6 hours???? Fuck you all !!

Siraj does not even have the liberty to talk in his mother tongue! This man has to patiently use machine translator to speak to you in the language you understand, instead of it being the other way round. He has to make sure to cross that bridge of communication and yet you all are so shitty, that the moment he is out of your sight, he is out of your mind...like fuck you even my mother tongue is not English. I am so angry right now that I want to scream at you in my own tongue, but instead I have to attempt to construct a proper sentence in English for you all to read.

Every single day I am out here, writing to boost Siraj's fundraiser- begging people to edit my writing so that it can be considered good enough to go out into tumblr. So that it may hold your attention. Everyday I have to experiment with font sizes and colours- hoping that you all read! But nothing. Nothing at all. You all do not listen that he has to reach 30k CAD by tomorrow.

So ultimately the fact is that nothing matters on tumblr. Not the fact that Siraj is running himself ragged between caring for his son who has fallen sick and messaging you on tumblr. Not the fact that so many of us are boosting his posts, or holding art commissions for him. No tumblr is of course tumblr, and a post needs to hit just right to even consider a donation, because yeah Free Palestine and all that in rhetoric but fuck the actual Palestinian man in Gaza who is trying to rebuild his home.

Like to think there are so many leftist political discussions on this site reaching hundreds of thousands notes. Like lol you all just love to put that shit on your blog and bask in it 😂😂 you all don't want to click on links. You all don't want to donate. You all don't want to adopt fundraisers. You all don't want to boost. What the fuck do you want to do then???

I don't know if you all will even bother to take your time to read this. But right now Siraj is at $27,720 CAD. Find it in yourself to donate. Please get him to 30k by tomorrow. If you cannot find it in yourself to boost the post. Take it out if tumblr if you have to!

( vetting at number 219 on Hussein's list)

[merlucide]

TALL GIRL!! x bllk boys hcs

notes: I’m short af and am jelly of you tall girls yall are FINE [Reqested!]

characters: Chigiri, Reo, Bachira, Hiori

warnings: reader is fem, reader is implied as taller then the boys, cursing

CHIGIRI HYOMA

I’m not sure why, but chigiri liking tall girls just seems right?!

It makes him flustered when you have to look down to talk to him lmao

Probably because he feels like all of your attention is on him (which it is hehe)

Never makes comments about your height though, unless you ever feel insecure or need some hyping up, then he’ll roll his eyes and say how your height is ‘hella hot’

Also— he HATES having to ask you to get the things HE can’t reach. It hurts his lmasculinity okay?

also also— THE VIBES yall give off is INSANE. Like I’m sorry?? Who is the model couple I’m looking at rn?! Chigiri with his lethal face card + YOUR lethal face card + you height is just a modeling campaign just WAITING to happen istg

MIKAGE REO

Oho ho 🤭

he LOVES himself a tall girl

Something about how you look at him makes him feel towered over makes him all blushy n flustered

His pupils dilate and his face flushed hehe

It’s actually quite the scene

Oh, OH, and honey.. if you wear heels ever…. OHOHOHO

hes dead

gone

ascended

THE OVERWHELMING BADASS SEXY FEMININE ENERGY IS TOO STRONG?!?!! REO DOWN!! I REPEAT REO IS DOWN!!

bro is like stuttering and shit

Jaw Is to the floor too

He finally pulls himself together and starts showering you with compliments— like if he doesn’t say all of this now his mouth will get sewn shut lmao

Always has his hand on your waist, showing off his pretty, tall lady 😌

BACHIRA MEGURU

asks for piggyback rides often 💀 I’m sorry when you agreed to date him you signed up for this

Also *slight* correction— He just jumps on ya on ya and guesses you will catch him (sometimes it works, the majority it doesn’t)

Loves your height diff even more because it means he can be little spoon!!! (Regardless of your height, he’d still be little spoon lmao)

likes clinging to you like a koala lol

also he’ll be like ‘y/nnnnnnnn, I can’t reach thisssss help meeeeee’ (he can reach)

and you’ll go stretch out for it this lil shit (affectionate) jams his fingers into your armpits and starts a tickle fight

yes. That is the only reason why Bachira asks for help reaching things

You've gotten used to his evil plan of his, and guard your armpits fiercely while he just sticks his tongue out like ‘😋?’

steals your clothes lmao

HIORI YO

Height doesn’t rlly matter to him but he thinks it VV attractive 😌

Like ‘yess…. tower over me m’lady..’

He is tall af so it’s nice for him not having to crane his neck down lmao 😭

He likes bumping his head/nose into yours :3 it’s rlly cute

Also girl hide them legs bc they are NAWT safe around this guy

(High)lowkey has an fixation with your legs 💀

Just likes rubbing up and down your calves and inch his way slowly up to your thigh

cheeky boy tut tut

asks ‘how’s the weather up there?’

jus smack him on his arm it’s okay we listen we don’t judge

If you’re not okay with height jokes than he won’t say anything, he’ll never do anything to cross your boundaries

but basically he thinks your tallness is super sexyness

RAAAA HOPE THIS IS WHAT YA MEANT ^^

made December 15th 2024

[harringtonstilinski]

...Ready For It? (Eddie's Version) - Eddie Munson (Smut)

Author: @harringtonstilinski​ Characters: Eddie Munson x Henderson!Reader Word Count: 8,372 Warnings: fluff, shy/innocent/virgin!henderson!reader, multiple uses of the word chuckle Requested: no | yes; i hope it meets your expectations, @fandom-princess-forevermore!! Smut: no | yes; protected p in v, oral (f receiving), virginity loss, A/N: Hi, friends! Just like with my first Steve fic (what seems like forever ago), my first Eddie Munson fic is a smut piece!! Even though Eddie's still in high school when this is based, he and reader are roughly the same age; around their early 20s. Vecna isn't in this because fuck that piece of shit, lol. If you like this chapter, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox. As always, read at your own risk and enjoy 😊

eddie munson masterlist

Eddie fucking Munson. The boy you’ve had your eye on since you first noticed him in the library during study hall your freshman year. Now that Dustin, your little brother, is in Hellfire Club with him, your crush on him grew.

You were currently with Dustin and the Hellfire Club at their latest meeting, sitting in the corner of the room with a book in hand, minding your own business as you read the words on the pages, but as Eddie’s voice rang out, you looked up at him through your lashes, watching him speak to the group.

“The hooded cultists chant, hail Lord Vecna. Hail Lord Vecna,” he said. “They turn to you, remove their hoods. You recognize most of them from Makbar. But there is one you do not recognize, his skin shriveled, desiccated. And something else. He is not only missing his left arm, but his left eye!” He covered his left eye with right hand, his left arm behind his back.

The group exclaimed their protests as you looked on, confused. You never sat in on the campaigns, but Dustin had begged you to and said that you could bring your books to read, so you caved. 

You and Eddie locked eyes for a moment, a small smirk on his lips as he watched your cheeks flush the smallest amount before you cast your eyes back down to the pages of your book.

“Vecna’s dead!” Jeff exclaimed.

“He was killed by Kas,” Mike added.

“So it was thought, my friends,” Eddie said. “So it was thought.” Grabbing a playing piece, he stood up a little straighter and said, “But Vecna lives.” He placed the playing piece where he needed to on the board.

You looked up again as his voice captured your attention once more as he said, “You are scared. You’re tired. You are injured. Do you flee Vecna and his cultists, or do you stand your ground and fight?” After a few seconds of silence, he added, “Come on.”

Dustin looked back at you with pleading eyes, but you shrugged your shoulders, looking back at your book when your brother turned back around to face the group, silent for a moment as he thought before he spoke up saying, “I say we fight.”

Deciding to speak up, you quietly said, “To the death,” while keeping your eyes on your book.

“To the death,” Dustin and Mike agreed.

“To the death,” Erica added, the entire group looking back at you as they chanted, “To the death!” 

Eddie, however, just looked at you with that smile of his as you shyly smiled and sunk more in the chair you were occupying, going back to your book. His laughter caused you to sneak a glance at him once more, that shy smile coming back to your features.

He sat back down, his smile bigger than ever as the group continued to chant, your brother yelling it out. A chuckle sounded from you as you went back to your book. 

Dice and gaming pieces hitting the board, protests and happy exclaims sounded as you flipped through the pages, immersed in the story you were reading about two lovers. You hadn’t realized that you were biting your bottom lip from the steamy scene you were reading when you looked at the Dungeon Master over the edge of your book as he laughed at something to do with the game.

“Time out! Time out!” Doug exclaimed before he, Gareth, Mike, Dustin, Erica, and Jeff gathered into a huddle to talk out what to do within the game. You couldn’t help but overhear their conversation.

“Guys, I hate to say, but we have got to flee,” Gareth said.

“I conquer,” Doug said.

“Did we just agree with Y/N to the death?” Erica asked.

“That wasn’t literal,” Gareth replied.

Jeff spoke up next, adding, “Vecna just decimated us. We can’t kill him with two players.”

“You too?” Dustin asked. “He has 15 hit points left. Don’t be pussies.”

“Dustin!” you chastised.

“Pussies?” Gareth said.

“Gareth!” you chastised… again.

He looked at you, saying, “Really?” before turning back to the group, saying, “ ‘Cause we’re not delusional.”

“Delusional?” Erica said. “How about not cowards?”

You jumped as Eddie’s voice rang through your ears as he said, “Hey!” He looked at you as he was sitting on the balls of his feet in the chair, an apologetic look on his face before he turned to the group, saying, “If I may interrupt, gentlemen, Lady Applejack.” He moved to sit down with the group turning to look at him as he said, “Whilst I respect the passion, you’d be wise to take Gareth the Great’s concern to heart. There is no shame in running. Don’t try to be heroes. Not today, ‘kay?” 

He smiled and you felt something deep in your core as you looked at him, your bottom lip back between your teeth. You were thanking the Gods above that he couldn’t see the motion through your book.

Dustin held up a finger, saying, “One sec,” before turning back towards the group. “What do you think, Mike?”

“How many hit points do you and Applejack have left?” the Wheeler boy asked.

“Twelve,” Dustin and Erica replied.

“It’s risky as hell. But you’re the ones on the battlefield. So it’s your call.”

“What do you say, Lady Applejack?” Dustin asked.

“You really gotta ask?” Erica replied.

After a couple of seconds, Dustin said, “Screw it,” and the group turned back to Eddie, your brother saying, “Let’s kill the son of a bitch.”

As they stepped closer to the table, Jeff said, “The chances of success are 20-to-1.”

Holding a finger in the air, Dustin said, “Never tell me the odds,” to which you giggled at, your eyes never having left the words in front of you. “Give me the D20.” Dustin held his hand out, which caused you to look back up from the pages as Eddie smiled again and threw the die at your brother.

Dustin rolled the die and released it onto the board. You watched as Eddie stood to watch the die before saying with two headbangs, “That’s. A,” before shaking his head while saying, “Miss!”

“No!” came from everyone but Dustin, who exclaimed, “Shit! Shit!”

Laughing again, you pressed your forehead into the middle of your book, looking back up at the group as Dustin and Erica switched places. The youngest Sinclair rolled the die in her hands with Gareth and Dustin exclaiming a “please” and “come on” before tossing it onto the board, everyone watching with anticipation.

“Crit hit!” Erica shouted, the six of them jumping happily at their win.

Eddie stood up straight, saying, “What? What?” before clapping his hands once and bending over, a happy look on his face as he looked over towards you as he added, “That’s why we play.”

You didn’t know that was looking at you, you were too immersed in your book again to see or hear anything that was going on. What you also didn’t notice was the fact that you were lowering your book as you continued to read, your lip still in between your teeth as the characters in your book were getting it on.

As they started to pack up, you couldn’t help but picture yourself doing these steamy scenes with Eddie. Yes, you’d develop a little crush on him since you’d been bringing Dustin to Hellfire. He’d also dropped Dustin off at home sometimes, talking with your mom in the living room. He’s even been over for dinner a few times!

Those nights he’d stay to hang out after dinner, you’d be curled up on the couch next to him with a book, a decent amount of space in between the two of you to not make things awkward.

Eddie kept stealing glances at you that night, a crush of his own developing that night. When he kept smiling at himself while looking at you, he couldn’t help but think of having you leaning against him, a book in your hand as you read to him.

He also couldn’t help but think of all of the ways he could pleasure you, like the characters in your books. Once or twice, he’d sneak a glance at your pages, seeing what you were so immersed in. Eddie always knew that when you read those scenes, your lip would go in between your teeth. He always wondered what scenario you pictured or who you pictured while you read.

Eddie was brought from his thoughts when Dustin called your name, saying with a smile that it was time for you to go home. You put your bookmark in your book to keep your place before standing from the chair, your shirt having risen a little bit.

Eddie couldn’t help but look at the small bit of your exposed skin, a tingling sensation happening below his belt. Shaking his head from his thoughts, he took a deep breath and released it, grabbing his D&D book to shut it just as you were looking over at him.

You watched him for a second before saying to Dustin that you’d be at the car in a moment before he nodded and walked off with his friends, happy about the events that occurred during the game.

Walking to Eddie, you placed your hand on the table as his back was turned, picking up one of the pieces of the game. “What is this?” you asked, quietly. 

Even though he knew you were there, he still jumped as he turned to look at you. Placing a hand on his heart and the other on the table, he took in a deep breath as you lightly chuckled.

“Sorry,” you said.

Shaking his head, he said, “No, it’s fine.” He sighed, loudly, which made you chuckle again before he stood up straighter, looking at the piece in your hand. “That, uhm…” he started, bringing his hand to rub at his chin. A nervous tick you noticed he had. “That’s Vecna.”

You looked at the playing piece, an eyebrow cocked. “The… thing they were fighting tonight?”

He chuckled and crossed his arms. “Yeah. The thing they were fighting.” Looking at you, Eddie couldn’t help but smile the tiniest bit at you as you handed him the piece. 

“Uhm,” you started, feeling a small spark run through your hand as Eddie’s fingers grazed yours. “I-I think Dustin was going to see if you all could come and hang out at the house for a little while since it’s Spring Break now.”

“Y/N/N! Eddie!” Dustin called.

“Speak of the little devil,” you and Eddie said in unison. You looked at each other and started laughing. 

Ignoring the two of you, Dustin rolled his eyes and asked, “Hey, Eddie, did you want to come to the house and hang out for a little while? You could work on a new campaign!” You watched as his eyes lit up with that suggestion.

Sighing, Eddie scratched at his cheek, feigning thought as Dustin practically begged him to say yes, a chuckle coming from the other male with a nod. Your little brother almost jumped in excitement at his friend’s answer. 

After he had packed everything up, Eddie walked with you down the hallway, attempting to make small talk. “You’re not gonna, like, hide away in your room all night, are you?”

“Uhm,” you stuttered. “I-I’m not sure. You guys coming over is more for Dustin than anything.”

Eddie stopped walking as soon as the two of you made it outside, gently grabbing your elbow to make you stop and face him. He tucked a piece of loose hair behind your ear before cupping your cheek. Shaking his head, he said, “You don’t have to be shy around us. Especially me.”

You felt your breath hitch a little as he took a step closer to you, your head tilting back to look at him. As you looked into his eyes, you couldn’t help but want to kiss him, and you almost did until Dustin’s voice called for you, your head snapping his direction.

With a sigh, you pulled away from Eddie, looking at him shyly before starting the walk to your car. “I guess I’ll see you at my house?”

Nodding, Eddie replied with a yeah before scratching at the back of his neck. He couldn’t help but feel a little jealous when you saw Steve walking to his own car before you ran up to him, giving him a hug.

“How’s my favorite bookworm?” Steve asked, setting you back on the ground.

“I’m good, a little tired. How was the game?” you asked.

“It was awesome. We won!”

“What?!” you squealed, excitedly. With your hands on his shoulders, you jumped a little, saying, “That’s amazing!”

“Yeah, Lucas made the winning shot,” Steve smiled, holding your waist. 

You looked around for the oldest Sinclair with a big smile on your face. “I need to go congratulate him!” Looking back at Steve, you hugged him again, bidding him a good night before you found Lucas, running to him and giving him a hug.

Lucas welcomed it, his eyes locking with Eddie’s, a knowing look on both of their faces. When the two of you pulled back, you wrapped your arm around his shoulders, walking to your car with him. You always took him from Hellfire, so taking him home from the game shouldn’t feel any different, but he kindly declined, saying that he was going to the after party at Benny’s.

You told him to be safe before making your way to your car, getting into the front seat of the car but not before looking at Eddie with a small smile. Once you were on the road, you could feel three pairs of eyes on you. Jeff and Gareth in the backseat while your brother occupied the front. 

“You and Eddie almost kissed,” Dustin said, a smile on his face.

“What?” you chuckled. “No we didn’t.”

“Well, if that’s not almost kissing,” Gareth said.

“Then the stolen looks all night were just stolen looks then,” Jeff added.

You looked at them in the rearview mirror before looking at your brother, shaking your head. “Whatever, losers.” When you looked in your side mirror, you saw headlights gaining up on you, a small smile coming over your features as they slowed down. You could faintly hear a guitar solo sounding from Eddie’s van. 

A laugh came out from you as he stuck his hand out of his window, making the rock on symbol. The boys laughed along with you as you put your eyes back on the road. As the boys were talking about the night and what they plan on doing while hanging out in either Dustin’s room or the living room, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander.

Not being able to stop yourself from letting your mind go there, you thought about your book and what the characters were doing. All the sex you had read about, the thoughts that ran through your mind about you and Eddie doing those things. 

You’d never have sex before; yes, you were a virgin. You were also shy; not wanting to change in front of anyone in the locker room when you were in school. When you were home alone, you wouldn’t even run across the hall to your bedroom to get dressed after your shower. And you were innocent, but not as innocent as some people might think. Since your books had a lot of sex in them, you knew about certain positions… but that’s all you really knew about. You’ve heard girls talk about giving a blowjob, but didn’t stick around enough to listen to their explanations.

Pulling into your driveway, you were pulled out of your thoughts as the boys cheered at the fact that your mom bought more chips the other day at the store. You made a mental note to pick more up when you went within the next couple of days.

After you had walked into the house, you did exactly what Eddie asked you about at the school. You went to hide in your room. Once you had your favorite record on, you took off the jacket you were wearing to drape over your vanity chair. 

Before you could get sucked back into your own little bookworld, your landline rang, a groan coming from your throat, which was the wrong time for Eddie to walk up to your door, his cock twitching a little at the sound, his mind immediately going into the gutter.

Picking up your phone, you said into the mouthpiece, “I swear to all that is good in this world, Steven-”

“It’s Max.”

“Oh,” you sighed. “Sorry, what’s up?”

“I need to you come by.”

Sitting up, concern started to flow through you as Dustin yelled your name before opening your door as you replied back to Max. “What happened?”

She sighed before she replied, “Mom went on a bender again. She ended up calling from some rando’s house.”

Before she even finished her statement, you were up and putting your shoes and jacket back on. “Don’t say another word. I’m on my way.” After she gave you her thanks, you hung up the phone, and turned around to walk out of your room but stopped once you saw the Hellfire Club looking at you with confused looks, concerned looks… worry.

You chuckled and shook your head. “Don’t worry, it wasn’t Steve.” Hearing a breath of relief, you looked up, locking eyes with Dustin. “Oh, don’t act like you wouldn’t leave the house to come with me if it was him.”

“Then who was it?” Dustin asked.

Looking at each boy before stopping on Eddie’s eyes, you sighed. “It was Max. Her mom went out and didn’t come home. She wants me to go over.” You grabbed your book before walking towards your door, placing your hand on Dustin’s shoulder. “I’ll be back later.” Looking at each boy again, you gave a stern look to each of them as you said, “Don’t. Go. Into. My. Room. Period.”

Eddie chuckled, gaining your attention. “I won’t go in because I’m taking you to Max’s.”

Now it was your turn to give him a confused look. “What are you talking about? You’re staying here to hang out with Dustin and your friends.”

“No, I’m taking you to Max’s house. I live across the way from her. I don’t mind.”

“Eddie,” you softly said, tilting your head towards your shoulder. 

“No, really. I don’t mind. Besides, if you're coming back then I have to come back.”

You sighed, giving in. “Okay. Let’s go then.” 

The boys parted like the Red Sea as you walked out of your room, Dustin shutting the door behind everyone. 

“Oh, Y/N/N,” your mom said. “Where are you going?”

Scratching between Tews’ ears, you answered your mom. “Going to check in on Max. She said her mom went out.” You only told your mom what information you wanted. “Eddie’s gonna take me over there, but I should be back later.”

“Okay, honey. Just be careful.”

“I will, Mom.” With that, you and Eddie walked out of your house after he bid your mom a good night. 

Once the two of you made it to his van, he opened the door for you, holding his hand out of you to take. “M’lady.”

You chuckled, taking his hand in yours before getting into the seat, giving your thanks. Knowing Eddie, you knew he probably didn’t turn his music down before he got out, so you leaned over the middle console, turning the volume dial to the left, knowing it had turned down a little.

When he got in, he put the key into the ignition and turned the key to crank the engine. He was already prepared to apologize, the words on his tongue, but he was cut off when the sound didn’t come through the speakers, his eyes on the radio.

You laughed out loud at his reaction, covering your mouth as you did. “I turned it down when you closed the door.”

“Without it being on?” he asked, incredulously.

Nodding, you smiled. “I do it all the time in my mom’s car after Dustin’s been in it. I think you’re influencing him a little with the loud music.”

While you were explaining all that, Eddie had backed out of your driveway, driving towards Forest Hills, the trailer park he and Max lived in. “I hope it’s a good kind of influence.”

You chuckled, looking down at the cover of your book. “Well, considering I also listen to metal music, I would say it’s a good influence.”

Eddie’s heart and cock swelled at hearing you say that. He knew that you listened to all the popular music on the radio, having heard and seen you jam out to Madonna a few good times. 

The both of you were comfortable in the silence that had surrounded you. Eddie didn’t want to ruin it, but his next words slipped out before he could stop them. “I’m glad you came tonight. I didn’t think you’d stay.”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” you say, honestly. “I was just gonna drop him off and have him catch a ride home from Steve, but he practically begged me to stay, so… there I sat all night. Nose stuck in this book.” You chuckled breathily, slightly holding up your book.

“What’s it about?” Eddie asked.

You looked at him with wide eyes. “My-my book?”

Keeping his eyes on the dark road, he nodded. “Yeah. I wanna know what has captured your attention.”

Taking a deep breath, you sunk a little lower into the seat, the action not going unnoticed by Eddie.

“You don't have to tell me. You can tell me to fuck off, for all I care.”

“I would never do that.” You were quiet for a moment before you quietly added, “I’m not a mean person.”

“Am I?”

You looked at him and sat up straighter. “What, mean?”

“Yeah.”

“No.”

He sighed. “People like to think I’m mean and scary.”

“All because you play D&D?” you asked, an eyebrow cocked.

Stealing a glance your way, Eddie nodded his head, saying, “Yeah.”

That angered you. Eddie was one of the sweetest people you’ve had the pleasure of knowing. So, for people to call him scary and mean was downright… well, mean! You decided to voice your opinion on the matter. “Well… they’re just mean! And can fuck right off!”

Surprise flew Eddie at hearing you cuss. He smiled, and once again, his cock twitched in his pants, a bulge starting to appear, and he was thanking all the higher powers above that you couldn’t see it.

The two of you made small talk as he drove to his trailer, the sound of your laughter something that he was loving to hear from you. He wanted to hear it for the rest of his life. Once he parked in front of his trailer and got out, he walked over to your side, helping you out the same way he helped you in.

You walked over to Max’s house, knocking on the door. As you waited for the redhead to open the door, you looked back over at Eddie’s, seeing that he was standing on the small slab of concrete at his front door. Giving him a small smile, you looked back to Max’s door as it opened, the teenager looking at you with relief in her eyes.

She grabbed your arm and dragged you inside, shutting the door behind you. With her hands on your shoulders, she looked you deep in your eyes asking, “Two things. One; why are you with Eddie ‘the Freak’ Munson? Two; I need relationship advice.”

“Okay, one; he’s not a freak. You’re reading way into what the popular kids are saying. Two; I thought you and Lucas were broken up?”

“We are,” she answered, completely disregarding the fact that you just defended Eddie. “But, a part of me still loves him. Like, I can’t stop thinking about him. I want to be with him, but at the same time I don’t want to be with him. I’m still fucked up from Billy’s death. Like - do you see my dilemma here?”

You chuckled, sitting down on the couch, placing your book on your lap. “Max, listen. If you still love Lucas and want to be with him, but you’re not totally sure if you want to be with him, just continue this little break you’re on. Hang out with him as friends first, and if your feelings are still there, then just talk to him about it. You can’t keep being radio silent on him forever. He’ll eventually move on if you do.”

She sat next to you as you spoke, thinking your words over. “Would you be mad if I said I called him right after you, and asked him to come over?”

“Why the fuck would I be mad?”

“Eddie know you have a mouth on you?” she asked, a playful smile on her lips.

You started to stutter over your words, not sure how she knows about your crush. Sighing, you said, “Fucking hell, Dustin.”

“Can’t keep his mouth closed for shit,” she chuckled.

“I’m gonna kill him.”

Looking over at Max, you couldn’t help but let out a laugh, her own joining yours. A knock interrupted your moment with the girl that was like a little sister to you, as well as El. Standing, you placed a hand on her shoulder, giving her an encouraging smile and gentle squeeze. “Just talk to him.”

She nodded her head as another knock sounded, which caused you to sigh. “Alright, Sinclair. I’m coming.” Opening the door, you were met with a very confused Lucas. “I thought you were at Benny’s?”

He shook his head, pointing towards Max. “She called. Said she wanted to hang out.”

“Awwww,” you happily whined, putting a hand on your chest. “You ditched your asshole friends to hang out with your ex-girlfriend? Lucas Charles Sinclair-”

Holding his hands up, he scrunched his face and said, “Please don’t full name me. It sounds weird, and makes me feel like I’m in trouble.”

Chuckling, you walked by Lucas, squeezing his upper arm. “Talk. And listen.”

He nodded as you walked down the steps that led up to Max’s trailer. Looking straight ahead, you sighed as you looked at Eddie’s trailer, deciding to walk over and knock on his door. You had to take a step down as you heard his footsteps. 

Opening the door, he smiled and held his arms out as if saying welcome. You chuckled and stepped into his trailer, turning to look towards Max’s, seeing her and Lucas watching you. Sticking your tongue out to them, you closed the door and turned to face Eddie.

He was standing in the middle of his living room, an amused smile on his face.

“What?” you asked, holding your book to your chest.

“Really? Sticking your tongue out? At two teenagers?”

“I’ve known them since they were pre-teens, it’s fine.” You waved him off and looked around, smiling a little to yourself. “I know this is probably a stupid ass question, but do you live here alone?”

Eddie chuckled, looking down. “No. I live here with my uncle. He’s working nights again.”

You nodded your head, looking around.

“I know it’s not fancy or anything–”

“It’s nice,” you whispered. You looked at him and he at you. It was like there was a magnet between the two of you, pulling you to each other. Nothing happened yet between the two of you, but you were both panting from anticipation. His hands on your face, yours on his waist.

“I just have two questions,” Eddie whispered. “Have you had your first kiss yet? Has anyone made you feel good?”

“Yes to the first,” you replied, breath hitting Eddie’s face. “No to the second.”

He pulled back a little. “You’re a virgin?”

You nodded, looking at him. “No one ever felt right.”

“And I do?”

“The rightest.”

He chuckled, resting his forehead on yours. “I don’t think that’s a word, babe.”

Closing your eyes, you smiled. “It is. Now, kiss me.”

You didn’t have to tell him twice. As soon as his lips met yours, you were a goner. Arms snaking up his body to wrap around his neck while his slid down your body to wrap his arms around your waist before squatting ever so slightly to place his hands on the backs of your hips, you already knowing to jump.

Wrapping your legs around his middle, he turned and walked the two of you into his bedroom, your lips working in tandem with his steps on his neck. 

Eddie groaned as he placed your back on his mattress, your lips never stopping their assault as he breathed out, “Fuck, baby.”

It was your turn to groan as the telephone rang, Eddie’s forehead meeting your shoulder. “I should just ignore it,” he said.

“Yeah, maybe,” you breathed. You went to kiss him again when the phone rang again. 

He sighed. “I’ll be right back.” Looking at you, he smiled. “Don’t go anywhere.” Lifting himself from you, he walked out of his bedroom, giving you a chance to look around as you sat up on your elbows.

“Y/N/N,” Eddie said, walking back into his room. “It’s for you, too.”

You got up from his bed, confused before you walked over to where his phone was, picking it up from where Eddie had placed it. “Hello?” you sighed as you felt Eddie’s chest on your back, the neckline of your shirt being pulled from where it sat on your skin, Eddie’s lips meeting the juncture of your neck and shoulder.

“Cast protection!” Dustin exclaimed from the other end of the line.

“Wh-what?”

“Jesus, Y/N/N. Cast protection!”

Eddie started sucking where his lips were, a sigh falling from your lips. “Fuck off, Dustin,” you said before hanging up. Bringing your hand to rest on the back of Eddie’s head, you gasped as you felt his teeth sink into your skin. “Eddie!”

“Yes, princess?”

“Do more, please. Wait, what did you just call me?” You turned to face him, an amused smirk on his face. 

“I called you princess.”

“No one has ever called me that before. Where did-” Your words got stuck in your throat as your eyes widened. “You read my books.”

“Only the good parts.” Putting your face in your hands, you groaned, embarrassed. “Oh, my god. I’m mortified.”

He chuckled. “Don’t be.” He rubbed his hands up and down your arms. “Did you know you bite your lip when you read those steamy” - Kiss to the top of your head. “Hot-” Hands on your face to lift your head up. “Erotic-” Kiss to your forehead. “Smutty-” Kiss to your cheek. “Fucking scenes?”

Without another word, you wrapped your arms around his neck again, crashing your lips to his in a heated, passionate kiss. Eddie turned you both around to walk you backwards into his room, where your back met the mattress again after your shirt was stripped from your body.

Before he was able to crawl over you, you wrapped your hands on the hem of his shirt, lifting it to reveal his bare torso and tattoos to you. One of a spider and the other of a skullish looking head with red eyes and tongue, hair looking like it was blowing in the wind. You traced your fingers over the permanent ink. 

“You like ‘em?” Eddie asked, watching your eyes. When you nodded, he cupped your cheek with his left hand, your eyes landing back on his. “I have three more.”

“Really?” you breathed.

He smiled, softly, sitting on his knees in between your legs to guide you to sit up. “Right arm.”

You looked at his right forearm, seeing a demonized marionette doll connected by strings to what looked like a clawed hand. “Looks like a witch’s hand,” you whispered. Flipping his arm over, you smiled a little at seeing the bats you always saw. “Bats.”

Eddie twisted his arm a little to give you a view of his tricep. 

Confused, you asked. “What’s this one?”

“It’s a wyvern,” he said. “It’s a dragon with two legs. Part of D&D.”

Your smile returned as you look at him. “It suits you.” 

“Thanks, princess.” He kissed you, softly this time as he reached behind you to unclasp your bra. Feeling the material go slack against your chest, you pressed your arms to the cups, keeping the material in place. 

Eddie noticed your hesitation, bringing his hand back to cup your cheek. “Hey, look at me.” Once your eyes met his, he shook his head, his hair moving with the motion. “Please don’t hide from me. You have nothing to hide. No reason to be shy.”

“But you’re the fir-” You stopped yourself, your shyness peaking through.

“I’m the first to see your tits?” He was so quiet as he spoke, your head nodding ever so slightly. 

“Comes with being a virgin, I guess.”

“Then we’ll take things slow,” he said, rubbing his thumb along your cheek. 

All you saw in his eyes was honesty and respect when you looked into those chocolate orbs you were quickly falling in love with. “Thank you,” you smiled as you added, “Dungeon Master.”

Eddie laughed, hanging his head for a moment. That gave you the opportunity to let out a quiet breath and release your arms from your breasts, your bra falling into your lap. Once Eddie saw the material, he slowly looked up at you, his eyes on your chest for a moment. 

When he looked at you, he slowly laid you down onto your back, bringing his hand down from your cheek to your breast.

Your breath hitched as you watched him place a kiss on your areola. Closing your eyes to savor the moment, you drew out a gasp with your back arching a little as Eddie’s lips wrapped around your nipple, lightly sucking and licking the hardening bud.

“You like that, baby?” he asked, taking the bud back into his mouth.

“Y-yes,” you stuttered. You could feel your core reacting to his tongue and lips. “Please keep going.”

Eddie snickered, pressing kisses to your breasts as he switched, taking your left bud into his mouth to give the same attention he gave to the right. 

“Fuck, your mouth is amazing,” you sighed.

He released your bud with a soft pop, bringing his face back up to yours, his hair falling on either side of his face to create a curtain or veil around the two of you, blocking out the world around you, even though it’s just the two of you in the trailer. “You haven’t felt what it can do yet,” he smirked.

You giggled as you watched him kiss down the valley of your breasts and stomach, stopping when he reached the top of your jeans, looking up at you as he unbuttoned and unzipped them, sitting up on his knees. This time, you saw his erection straining against his jeans. “Happy to see me, Eddie, or do you have a really big joint in your pocket?”

“Oh, little Eddie is very happy to see you, baby.”

Laughing, you lifted your hips off the mattress so that he could take your jeans and panties off in one fell swoop. Your nerves set in again, and Eddie could tell that you wanted to close your legs, so he quickly but gently put his hands on your knees to keep them from moving.

“Remember what I said, baby? You don’t have a reason to hide or be shy.”

His words put your nerves at ease as you released the breath you didn’t realize you were holding as he spread your knees apart, his eyes downcast to your glistening core. “Shit, baby,” he murmured as you scooted up the bed to give him room to lay down. Once your head hit his pillow, you tilted your head to get a good look at him. “All that for me?” 

Nodding your head, you took a deep breath as he laid on his mattress, arms wrapping under your thighs, his rings digging deliciously into your skin. 

“Fuck me,” he whispered, kissing the inside of your left thigh. When he kissed your right, his eyes locked on yours as he turned his face towards where you wanted him most. “You ready, baby?”

Releasing a shaky breath, you nodded. “Yes.”

Looking down at your pussy, he pressed a light kiss to your clit, a small gasp sounding from you before you released a breathy chuckle. Once, twice, three more times he kissed your clit before lightly licking a stripe up from your entrance back to your clit.

“Oh, my god,” you moaned, hands gripping the sheets. 

“Think you can handle it a little rougher?” he asked before kitten licking your clit again.

“Y-yes, Eddie, fuck,” you breathed. You thought you heard him growl before sucked your clit in his mouth, licking it like it was an ice cream cone on a hot as shit summer day. “Oh, my god!” you moaned, loudly. 

He released your clit, continuing his licks as he circled your entrance with one of his fingers. “Have you ever fingered yourself?” he asked, sucking on your clit again. 

When you looked down at him, you grabbed the sides of his hair, pulling it away from your body, holding it in place at the crown of his head. He looked at you as you took one of your hands away, nodding. “Yes. You can… f-finger me, Eddie.”

Since you had a light hold on his hair to keep it out of his face, he was able to turn his head to the side to kiss the inside of your thigh as he inserted a finger in your dripping cunt. “How many?” he asked.

“Two,” you whined as he pumped his finger in and out of you. “Sometimes three. Just depends.”

“Think I’ll stick with two for now,” he said, rising to rest on his hand that was now flat against the mattress. He pumped his fingers in and out of you at almost too fast pace for you, but at the sight of slight discomfort on your face, he slowed his pace to a more perfect one; not too fast, not too slow… just right. “You like that, baby? That the right pace for you?”

You nodded, running your fingers through his hair that was dangling over his shoulder. “S’good!” Placing a hand on his neck, you brought his face closer to yours, pressing your lips on his after his hand moved from beside your waist to beside your head to better balance himself. You all but squealed when you felt his thumb on your clit, your release coming on fast. “Please don’t stop, You breathed. “I’m so close, Eddie. S’close.”

“You gonna cum all over my fingers, baby? Do it. Cum for me.” Eddie bent down the small distance to your breast, taking your nipple back into his mouth to help your release come a little fast.

“Fuck, don’t stop,” you breathed, putting your hand on his forearm, lightly squeezing. “I’m gonna cum. Don’t stop.” You took a deep breath, releasing it as you exclaimed his name. “E-Eddie!” 

“That’s it, baby,” Eddie cooed, watching as he slowed his hand to a slower pace to help ride out your high. Once he was sure you were calm, he released his fingers from your core, placing them in his mouth to lick himself clean. “Damn, you taste incredible.”

You immediately kissed his mouth, tongues tangling together as you tasted yourself on him. “Fuck, I do.”

“You’re dirty,” he chuckled. “I like it.”

“I’ll cum in your mouth next time,” you smiled.

“There’s gonna be a next time?” 

“Well, I hope so!”

He was quiet for a moment before you squealed as he all but rolled on top of you, careful not to dead weight you. “Damn, I’m a lucky Munson.”

“You’ll be even more lucky if you stuck your cock in me,” you smiled. Placing your hands on the waistband of his pants, you repeated his earlier motions in taking off your jeans and panties. “Jeans and boxers off.” Flashing him your pearly whites had him laughing lightly, getting off the bed to take off his jeans and boxers and to retrieve a condom. 

You moaned as you watch him pump himself a few times before opening the foil packet to grab the latex out to roll it onto his hardened cock. “Fuck, Eddie, that’s hot.”

He settled himself between your legs again, the both of you getting into a somewhat comfortable position. Gathering your wetness that was still leaking out of you, Eddie lined himself up to your entrance before looking up at you. “Before I slide in, I’ve gotta ask; are you absolutely sure about this?”

Without missing a beat, you said, “Yes,” while cupping his cheeks. 

He nodded, looking down once more before his eyes came back to yours. “Ready for it?”

Nodding, you took a deep breath, feeling the sting of Eddie’s cock entering for the very first time. You held your breath as you tapped his shoulders, Eddie stopping all movements.

“Breathe,” he whispered, kissing your cheek. 

“What’s in?” you whispered back.

“Just the head.”

“Fuck, it’s huge.”

Eddie looked at you, feeling bad that you were in pain before he tried pushing himself in a little more, watching as a tear leaked from the corner of your eye and down to your ear. “I’m sorry, baby,” he whispered. Kissing the corner of your eye, he took a deep breath of his own. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you breathed. “Try some more.”

He carefully and slowly pushed into you more, a shaky breath coming from your lips. “I’m s-”

“If you say you’re sorry one more goddamn time, Edward, I will have you pull out and I’ll be known as the half-virgin Henderson.”

He chuckled as you turned your head to look at him. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Kiss me.”

Not missing a beat, Eddie placed his lips on yours as your hands went to his waist and pulled, his cock pushing into you more until he was fully sheathed. 

“Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuck,” he groaned. “You feel incredible. So fucking tight.”

“You did it, Eddie,” you whispered. He looked at you as you smiled. “You took my virginity.”

“You’re happy?”

Nodding, you sniffled lightly, bringing your hands from where they had fallen onto his shoulders back to cup his cheeks. “Because it’s you who took it. I wouldn’t have wanted it to be anyone else.”

“Not even Harrington?”

“Steve?” You giggled. “Steve is just a friend. A really good friend. Since I met you, I’ve wanted you to be the one. And now look! We’re connected.”

With a cock brow, he lifted up a little. “Are you quoting your book?”

Looking around at the ceiling in thought, you thought about the words you’d read just almost an hour ago. “Oh, fuck!” Realization hit you like a bus. “Fuck. Ignore that. Come here.” You brought his lips back to yours, a heated kiss shared between you two. “Please move. I’m good now. Just needed time to adjust.” Your words were pretty much cut off as Eddie pulled his hips back and slowly pushed them forward. 

He did this a few times before you asked him to move a little faster. A light sheen of sweat started to coat your bodies as he moved faster and faster until he was slamming his hips against yours at the perfect pace.

When you announced that your release was coming again, his fingers met your clit, rubbing in circles until you were chanting his name like a prayer. “Eddie! Eddie! Eddie!”

“That’s it, baby, cum for me again. I’m so close.”

Three more thrusts is all it took for the dam to break within you again, your second orgasm of the night hitting, your walls fluttering and tightening around Eddie’s cock, sending his own release into the condom. 

Once you both were calmed down, he gently pulled out, a hiss coming from him while an almost pained groan sounded from you. He kissed all over your core as an apology before saying it, dipping out of the room with a smile on his face as one of his pillows was thrown at his face by you.

When Eddie came into his room, he had a warm cloth in his hand, ready to help clean you up. “This is called–”

“Aftercare,” you said, rolling your eyes. “I may have been a virgin, but I wasn’t stupid. I’m still not!”

He chuckled before reaching down to grab his Hellfire shirt to hand to you, as well helping slide your panties back up your legs to sit comfortably on your waist. Once he had his boxers on, he laid in the bed beside you, bringing you to cuddle against his side.

It was silent between the two of you as you both laid there, thinking about the events that just transpired. With a smile on your face, you tilted your head back on his shoulder, bringing your arm to rest on his chest to play with his guitar pick necklace. 

“Thank you,” you whispered.

“For what?” he asked, fingers lightly running up and down your arm.

“Giving me the best night of my life.”

He looked down at you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You’re welcome, m’lady.”

For some reason, that pet name had you jolting upright in his bed, the word, “Shit,” escaping your mouth. Jumping from the bed, you grabbed your bra and put it on before finding your jeans and putting those on. Without a word, you tossed Eddie his clothes and a random shirt you found on the floor. “Get dressed.”

“Why?”

Stopping your movements, you looked at him as he put his jeans back on. “You have to take me back home. Remember? I told Dustin and my mom I’d be back!”

That seemed to get his ass into gear because within the next few seconds, he had written a note to his Uncle Wayne and was out the door and driving down the road to your house in a comfortable silence.

What made you smile was the fact that Eddie’s hand never left your thigh, his thumb rubbing back and forth, even with your fingers laced with his. It put a smile on your face that you never wanted to leave.

Once he parked in your driveway, you didn’t move. When he tried to remove his hand from your thigh, you tightened your grip on his hand. He looked at you, the smallest of worry laced in his eyes.

“We should talk,” you said, a small smile on your face. “About us. Like, what we are.”

Eddie leaned closer to you, his head tilted a little in your direction. “Well, how about I call you my girlfriend, you call me your boyfriend, and we’ll call it even?”

Giggling, you looked dead in his eyes, your smile never faltering as you replied, “I like the sound of that.”

Walking into your house, the Club met you in the living room, a smile on their faces, cheers all around as they noticed your fingers laced together.

“It’s about time,” Gareth exclaimed.

“Congrats, man!” Jeff said, clapping Eddie’s back.

You looked at Dustin, who had a look on his face that you couldn’t decipher. Sitting next to him, you placed your arm around his shoulders. “What’s up, kid?”

He looked at you, eyebrows up in worry. “You and Eddie? Really?”

“Yeah?”

Looking down at his lap, he whispered, “I always thought it’d be you and Steve.”

Chuckling, you wrapped your arms around him, giving him an awkward hug. “I love you, Dustin. Steve and I are just friends. Always have been. We talked about it, sure, but I didn’t like his King Steve attitude, so we just remained friends. He’s my best friend now because of how he took you in.”

Dustin looked at you. “What about Eddie? You were so shy around him.”

“I’m shy around everyone,” you retorted. “But Eddie’s different. You know how when you saw Suzie for the first time, how your heart almost exploded?” At his nod, you continued, not realizing that Jeff, Gareth and Doug had sat on the floor in front of you, listening to your story as Eddie leaned against the wall by the door, watching your interaction. “That’s how I felt when I first saw Eddie. Seeing him those nights that I stayed during those nights you wanted me to, I kept having that… heart exploding feeling. I had tonight during Hellfire.”

“So, since the two of you went to Max’s and then had sex after, what does that make you two now?” your brother asked.

Mortified, you widened your eyes. “How do you know about that?”

“Y/N/N, I’m not stupid.”

Narrowing your eyes, you asked, “You’ve read my books?”

“I think everyone in this room has,” he chuckled. “You’re not subtle when you’re reading those scenes.”

“Anyway!” you exclaimed as everyone laughed, your own chuckle sounding from you. “Eddie and I… we’re… together.”

Cheers were heard all around, Jeff and Gareth all but tackling you to the couch, Eddie’s voice sounding over the noise as he said, “Alright, get off my girl!” He pulled to your feet, wrapping an arm around your lower back, his free hand resting on your hip as you wrapped an arm around his neck, your free hand resting on his shoulder. “You ready for this wild ride with this bunch?”

Nodding, you brought the hand that was resting on his shoulder to wrap behind his neck at the same moment he wrapped his arm around your waist, hands resting just above your ass. “The wildest.”

Eddie dipped his head with a smile, meeting your lips in a sweet, passionate kiss… before Dustin’s groan broke it up, leaving the two of you laughing.

“Quit making out with my sister!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N 2:  hi, friends! let me know what you thought about my first eddie munson fic! again, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox.

Additional Notes: 

~~~

Forever / Everything Taglist: @stiles-o-dylan24 @stixnstripesworld @fandom-princess-forevermore @quanticobae @mischiefandi @kellyashcroft @lauren-novak​

If you’re tagged and didn’t want to be, please let me know.

Italics wouldn’t let me tag!

~~~

*Please don’t post my writing anywhere else without my consent. The author of this work will always and forever be @harringtonstilinski​.

All characters, story lines, and plot aside from y/n and her storyline & plot, are all of the work of The Duffer Brothers.

*These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited.

No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.

Posted on January 9, 2024

[qqueenofhades]

Not that anything's a for sure bet but my read on the general situation re: Harris-Walz is that there's going to be a lot less headwind to fight for Harris specifically as opposed to Clinton because the amazing right wing media hasn't had twenty years for poison to seep into the layperson's thoughts about Clinton's "worthiness"

Well, that and the fact that the MAGA crowd are just really, really bad strategic planners (especially since a solid 75% of their strategy is "lol we'll just cheat and win it that way, we don't need anything else.") They howled for 3.5 years about how Biden was too old to serve and should step down, and then when he did, they had zero plan how to run against Kamala and Trump is now practically begging Biden to magically get back into the race and save him. They ran an anti-Shapiro influence campaign by encouraging the antisemitic online left and planning to exploit the issue among Democrats divided on Israel/Gaza, then furiously melted down when Walz was picked and had no plan to deal with him either. Fascism is a helluva drug, kiddos. Don't try it at home.

The reason Harris has been able to rocket so high is simple, which is that she's channeling Obama 08 energy in more ways than one. Obama also came onto the national political scene four years before (with his speech at the 2004 DNC) and four years later, he was the party's nominee. It didn't even matter that he was a skinny brown guy named Barack Hussein Obama, because people were so tired of the chaos and war and incompetence of Bush Jr that they latched onto a simple message of hope and change and the historical nature of his candidacy felt like an optimistic risk worth taking. Why couldn't it be time for the first African American president? Yes, of course, there was incredible vitriol and we are still dealing with that backlash in some ways now, but still.

As I have said before, Trump is technically not the incumbent, but the last 8 years have been dominated by his hatred, chaos, division, rage, and treason in a way even Bush could never quite manage, and when people get to that point, there's a lot of coiled-up energy that has at last come bursting out. We needed Biden's old-moderate-white-man cred to defeat Trump as the sitting president in 2020, when most of his worst scandals hadn't even happened yet, but this is not 2020 (or 2016) and the dynamic is different. We are now on offense and playing to win, people have readily and eagerly embraced the absolute god tier karma that would come from a black female prosecutor finally ending the Orange Menace's reign of terror once and for all, and the Republicans are spitting smoke and spinning gears running frantically through their usual tired old stupid cliche attacks. GAY TRANS EVIL BIRTHERISM SWIFTBOAT FOREIGN FAR LEFT COMMIE LIBERAL HEATHEN!! they scream desperately, trying to find something that sticks. Except this time, no matter how hard the corporate media tries to help them out, nobody is listening. Nobody is buying it. We know exactly what BS they're trying and we're just shrugging and going "Yeah, no. Weird."

It absolutely helps that Kamala is not dragging the ball and chain of 20 years of Republican smear attacks, yes. But there are a lot of reasons why the GOP is imploding before our eyes and it's probably now more statistically likely that there is a blue tsunami than it is that Trump wins. I still cannot, CANNOT, believe it has been barely three fucking weeks. If this is a dream don't want to wake up, etc. Let me goddamn stay in this timeline just a little longer. And if we do the work, we can in fact make it that way, and Yeah. Yeah.

[ishtar7677]

This was a Christmas gift to me and my husband from our GM of our very first characters that we ever TTRPG'ed (Pathfinder) who commissioned this from @cutetanuki-chan. (The picture is from me taking a picture and cropping at a weird angle - the whole thing in its frame is stunning.) These two characters (Chrissy and Odhran) met when our game night people were like... hey let's try pathfinder. So I made a character and so did my husband and after meeting them, I was like... oh god... we are gonna get divorced. Lol. We were struggling at the time. And we made these characters and god, they hated each other so much..... but eventually found their way to being friends. But they were our first characters EVER. The next character my husband rolled up in this campaign (we needed to double up to round out a playable campaign), my rogue eventually formed a romantic attachment with. Then I made a bard for a totally separate campaign, and now we're both determined that he meet Chrissy at some point b/c within MINUTES of meeting my bard in a totally unrelated campaign, we were like, okay he's soulmates with Chrissy! But that's the magic right? Finding the parts of ourselves unexpectedly that can be completely accepting of other parts of our partner... even the parts of them that we thought we didn't like, want to be around, or understand to begin with. (CAUTION WARNING: let the reader understand, do NOT use this story to excuse abuse or bad behavior to try to fix a partner! This is an exercise that can ONLY be done with a feeling of absolute safety and trust between partners. We were not there when we started TTRPGS but got to a better place of trust due to his own personal work with therapy. But there were MASSIVE strides before I even trusted it. ) We joked tonight after our friend gave us this picture that Odhran (my rogue) saw this picture and was like oh GOD, what hell-fan of Chrissy (actress) did this? Why do I look like I'm worshipping her? GAHHH nOoOo. But....Odhran can also shut all the way up. :) What ultimately makes me as the player love this picture so much is probably the underpinnings of a romanticism depiction. These two characters, while they never and will never fall in love, in a meta sense, they were the gateway for us into several characters who did help us rediscover love again after years in a very difficult marriage, find a adhd hack into new relationship energy through RPing, and just provide us an outlet for a lot of intense emotional energy. And this artist, despite knowing NONE of this, captured its essence in a two completely non-romantic character portrait. @cutetanuki-chan you knew none of this and still managed to capture it perfectly. This picture will hang proudly in our house and I will enjoy explaining it to anyone who walks through our doors. Your depiction of HERO FORGE characters being so accurate is stupid impressive. Also shout out to our GM, Grace, who actively sought this out for us. What a perfect present. We couldn't ask for a better GM or a better friend. You're family and we love you so much.

[belokhvostikova]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤: 𝐂𝐥𝐮𝐛 𝐏𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 | Following Friday’s events, Eddie Munson was on a mission to apologize to you, though everything fell short when your life began to crumble in a matter of hours.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Swearing, yelling, crying, self-deprecating thoughts, violence, experienced anxiety and panic attack, mentions of childhood abuse and neglect, and brief mentions of blood, body shaming, and non consensual touching.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | For the sake of my sanity, I'm going to need all of you to ignore the blatantly unrealistic process of making a book in this story, lol. If there are any necessary warnings that were accidently left out, please feel free to let me know!

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 | One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐈. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐡

Whatever mantra of the Munson Doctrine Eddie had been feeding himself to believe about the highest of the social hierarchy embedded within Hawkins High was really starting to fall short, specifically when your pretty face started monopolizing every one of his thoughts imaginable. 

As much as he’d like to admit otherwise, Eddie Munson liked staring at your face, and it was really starting to piss him off just how much he really liked doing it. And the situation only became worse when he steadily watched your wonted bewitching smile fade into a disheartened look of dejection, because that following weekend after your impromptu photo shoot with Hellfire, became the worst week of your life.

And Eddie Munson watched it entirely unravel right in front of him.

It never really occurred to Eddie just how much he’d casually gawk at you prior to said photo shoot. I mean, you were the face of the school, of course, you were hard to miss when you practically lit up the halls with your smile. And that’s merely what Eddie had chalked it up to; your popularity involuntarily placed you at the forefront of his attention. It wasn’t the small strands of baby hairs that perfectly framed your face, whether you decided to keep your hair natural, or styled it for the fun of it; it wasn’t your enthralling eyes that seemed to almost squint close because your cheeks became so full of delight with your spellbinding laugh; and it definitely wasn’t your apologetic reassurance that everything was okay to the kid from the drama club who accidentally bumped into you, causing you to drop your books, and you gave Andy McAvoy a stern talking to when he tried to defend your honor with violence against the poor kid. 

No, it was none of that that caught Eddie Munson’s attention to you (he forced himself to believe).

But now, things are different.

He’d actually gotten a chance to talk to you—yes, that cafeteria instance was the first time Eddie Munson had ever actually spoken to you, and he berated you with dehumanizing comments—and he blew it with his rash decision to automate you into a box of prissy cheerleaders that had nothing better to do than gossip with their friends- ah yes, that box, that was formulated by sexist losers who used it to justified their mean actions against innocent teenage girls. Oh, fuck, Eddie cringed to himself at the sudden self-realization. 

He had to fix this. He didn’t even have to confess his feelings—which, he didn’t have *cough* *cough*—he just had to apologize for his mistakes. What he wanted to believe to be patronizing was actually sincere on your part, and you didn’t deserve any of his degrading tirade. And his conscience was letting it be known. Resuming the campaign had been a shit-show that Friday, when all he could focus on was your crying face. It became even worse when he realized that he’d never actually seen you drive—always painfully third-wheeling with Jason Carver and Chrissy Cunningham, or silently pleading to Patrick McKinney to control Andy McAvoy when he felt entitled to nonconsensually feel you up in his convertible when they drove you to school—meaning you were probably left crying alone at night waiting to be picked up, or worse, walking home. And you did it just for him. For his friends. To be included in some stupid fucking yearbook, because he made a big deal out of it in the first place.  

Oh, shit, he was an awful fucking person, Eddie thought.  

So, come Monday morning, he would apologize. He had all weekend to find the right words, rehearse his apology to perfection, and plan when to actually say it to you. 

But Eddie Munson never got to correctly apologize to you on Monday. 

Because aforementioned, Monday was the start of the worst week of your life, and he got scared and simply watched everything happen.

- 

“No running in the halls, young lady.” Mr. Long sternly reminded, as you zoomed past him.

“Sorry, sir.” You weren’t sorry. The second he turned the corner, you picked up the pace and ran to the newspaper room, frantically attempting to shove the slender key into the slot with shaky hands. 

Earlier on Saturday, the Yearbook Committee had worked to finish the final draft of the Hawkins High 1986 Yearbook, and with the team’s effort, you all concluded the first official copy that held the recognition of all staff and students intertwined with a school year’s worth of memorabilia, squished between the glossy green and orange cover that encapsulated Hawkins High. 

And now, you were about to destroy it. 

Sixty minutes. You had sixty minutes. You managed to wake up early that Monday morning, practically running to school, and situating yourself within the newspaper room—sweaty and exhausted—an hour early before the bell rang to commence the school day. In truth, you’d like to say you were a badass, and demolished the yearbook with no regrets, but reality had quite literally sucked, and you were panicking for a solid five minutes before you came to a consensus. 

It had to be destroyed- well, not destroyed, just unbinded. God, you were such a dramatic coward. 

See, that Saturday afternoon with the Yearbook Committee, you had done your part, you really did. You gathered photos, helped have them printed, assisted Nancy Wheeler with the placement of pages, and took over binding the book together when Fred Benson’s scrawny hands cramped into oblivion. You also may have—very discreetly—had Hellfire’s picture printed, created an entirely new page to fit them between the Glee and Math Club, and it was then you realized you didn’t even know half of their names. It had never occurred to you on Friday night that—with the exception of Eddie Munson, Lucas Sinclair, and Mike Wheeler—you never caught the names of the other four members, prompting you to lose precious time after having to locate their stupid names in the student registry for identification—they weren’t stupid, you were just really frustrated at that point.

And now, on this fine Monday morning, you persevered through blistering callouses, contracting muscles, and sore knuckles to unbind and bind back the yearbook with an additional page within the “Hawkins High’s Clubs” recognitional section.

Hellfire’s page.

And it was perfect. 

The pages were still intact with their crisp stiffness of that of a newly unopened book, and you cleaned off any smudges that impaired the quality of work within the creation. You stood back. You couldn’t help the soft giggle that left your lips at the mere sight of Hellfire sticking out like a sore thumb against the formality of the other photos—in true Hellfire fashion. But there it was. Their title, their photo, and their names that gave them the minimal ask to simply be acknowledged in a school that consistently disregarded their beings, and you were happy they finally got it. They deserved it. Even if Friday’s event left you crying alone in your bed feeling awful. It was worth it. Your thumb gently caressed the smooth page of their photo—Eddie’s photo—and reminisced on that night.

Had you actually done something terrible? Was Eddie right to call you out on your actions? You certainly knew you hadn’t caused this entire commotion out of pitiness, though you understood where he may have interpreted it as such. I mean, even though you never did anything, your friends made his life a living hell, villainizing his differences, casting him as a danger to society, affecting his life beyond just a superficial high school social life. It was true torment. 

You understood the facade which Eddie Munson had to put on to protect himself, but what you didn’t understand was the sudden shallowness that appeared when you thought you proved yourself to be more than just a ditzy cheerleader. Why were you even trying to prove yourself to some guy? Eddie Munson was an awful person. Right? He yelled at you, judged you, degraded you, and all for nothing- well, as far as you knew. So yeah, Eddie Munson was an awful person. You may have understood him, but he was still an asshole. You’d done your part, adding Hellfire to the yearbook, and that was that. That was all you needed to do. You no longer had to think about his stupid feelings, his stupid hair—which you totally didn’t want to run your hands through—his stupid brown eyes that made you shutter as they bore into yours, and his stupidly beautiful smile. You also kinda wondered how his hands might feel on your-

“What are you doing here?”

Jesus Christ, how long has Nancy Wheeler been standing there? You didn’t even hear the door open. 

“Uh, um, j-just looking at the, uh, yearbook?” You mumbled. You wished you had better control over your facial expressions, because right now, Nancy Wheeler was eyeing the fuck out of your worried guise. 

“You came to school early just to see the yearbook?” She questioned. 

“W-well, yeah, I mean, isn’t that why you’re here early? …Right?” You prayed.

Nancy blinked. “Yeah, I guess, just had to make sure everything was correct before Fred takes it to make copies.”

“Oh, Fred’s here?” You piqued with interest. 

Fred Benson didn’t actually pique your interest all too much—though, it was quite fascinating seeing how fast his slender fingers would cramp after just a couple minutes of working—but he did give the perfect escape from Nancy Wheeler’s captious glare. 

“Uh, yeah, he’s out front waiting for the book-”

“I’ll hand it to him!” You interjected, watching her face scrunch with confusion. You could only awkwardly laugh, “You know me and Fred,” you zoomed right past her, “just always so, uh… tight.” And you left without further explanation. 

Shoving Mr. Long’s word of chastisement right up his ass, you ran down the empty hall, yearbook held tightly in your tired hands, as you rejected any of Nancy’s calls for you to come back. Reaching the double glass doors, you spotted Fred mindlessly tweaking with his camera in the front seat of his car.

“Fred!” You could visibly make out the bewildered “huh” that fell from his gaping mouth from your sudden appearance. “Fred, here take this and go!” You shoved the yearbook past the small crack of his window. 

“W-wait, didn’t Nancy want to che-”

“No, she sent me to give this to you!” You urged. “And she said go now, or else the copies won’t be done in time!” My god, the entirety of this situation had you lying more than you ever had in your life. 

“But the distributors don’t close until six-”

“Fred, I don’t care!” You whined. “Do you really want to make Nancy upset?!” If your calculations were correct, Nancy Wheeler’s flats were currently speed walking—she was one to follow the rules—past Mrs. Durberry’s science classroom, meaning you had ten more seconds until she appeared. 

“Well, n-no-”

“Then drive! Now, please!” He scrambled to turn his car on, and luckily, the old piece of junk managed to roar alive with a heavy blow of carbon dioxide, and you heaved watching Fred Benson skirt past the incoming wave of students on bikes and cars, leaving tire tracks on the cracked pavements. When he came back, you’d be sure to apologize for demanding him so aggressively.

Nancy Wheeler screamed your name. 

Turning around, she came pummeling towards you with a might of pure irritation. “What the hell was that?! I didn’t even get to check the book!”

You huffed with exhaustion. It was only 8:18 a.m and it had already been a long day. “Nance, come on, I’ve been on the Yearbook Committee for the last three years, don’t you trust me by now?” Admittedly, guilting Nancy probably wasn’t the best option, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

“I don’t care how long you’ve been in the committee, I have the authority to make final calls, not you!” Gee, you really had an act for getting people to yell in your face. Were you actually the problem?

“Look, I understand, but I promise everything was perfect with the yearbook. I mean, come on, you saw the finished product on Saturday when we completed it.” You reasoned. 

Nancy took a deep breath to regulate herself. “This is your only strike.” She pointed a finger at you like a child. “You pull something like this again, and you're off the committee. Understand?”

You swallowed thickly. The trouble you went through just for Eddie Munson- his friends. Just for his friends. “Yes, I understand.” You submitted quietly. “But I promise, the book was fine, everything is going to be perfectly okay.”

Everything was not perfectly okay.

Because unlike your little white lie of being “tight” with Fred Benson, he actually was with Nancy Wheeler, and, boy, did he rat you out when he paged through the printed copies of the yearbook and found the seven believed satanic cultists mischievously smiling right back at him, tainting the committee’s precious work. 

-

It was in the midst of your A.P U.S History class when the staticy call of your name over the intercom interrupted Mr. Whitney’s lecture of the Gulf of Tonkin Resolution, and prompted you to the principal’s office at 10:57 a.m. Now, it wasn’t an unusual occurrence for Principal Higgins to often call you down as you were a valued student representative of Hawkins High, though you quickly knew your visitation had nothing in relation to an honor medal or scholarship award. No, it became quite evident that such subject matter was beyond any congratulations to you, because upon entering, you were faced with a choleric Nancy Wheeler, displeased Principal Higgins, and timid Fred Benson. You were fucking screwed, I mean, Principal Higgins quite literally had a yearbook in his hand. Crazy part of it all is that a good third of your being actually believed you may have gotten away with it, but they managed to find out in a matter of two fucking hours. Who were you kidding?

There was only so much nonchalant-ness you could mask, though your previous revelation of being unable to control your facial expressions was really biting you in the ass, and your insistent cracking under pressure was palpable. 

Your wide eyes flashed between everyone as they stared you down. You didn’t speak. You couldn’t even manage to speak. And they didn’t speak. Why wasn’t anyone speaking?

“Aw, you miss me already, Higgy-”

Everyone’s attention snapped at Eddie’s sneering voice as he strutted his grand entrance, though he was quick to flinch back in surprise when he saw everyone looking at him. And you, shit you were here! You were here looking at him. He’d been searching for you all morning just to apologize, and now you were here… with everyone… why was everyone here?

“Now that I have everyone situated,” Principal Higgins cleared his throat, “I’d like to clear up a matter that has been brought to my attention. I’m sure as you all are well aware of, an unauthorized change has been made to our yearbook and I’m looking to get to the bottom of it.” Higgins turned to you, “Ms. Y/L/N,” he spoke with such care, “this is a safe place for honesty. Did Mr. Munson subject you into making these changes?” With a dramatic slam to his desk, the yearbook was turned open to showcase Hellfire’s designated spot on the page.

“What?!” Both you and Eddie questioned in unison. 

“I didn’t “subject” her to shit!” He was quick to rightfully defend. 

“Language!” Principal Higgins was even quicker to yell back. 

The atmosphere was taut, and it felt like their judgmental stares were swallowing you into an endless blackhole of utter disappointment and failure. You couldn’t even muster up the courage to meet their gaze, simply staring at the old rug beneath your sneakers, wishing it’d come alive and consume you already. 

“Ms. Y/L/N, is that true?” Principal Higgins lectured you.

A part of Eddie actually wished you would have lied and accused him of being the aggressor while you were the helpless victim, because that was the usual reality of Eddie Munson: to be denigrated. It would have justified his previous beratement against you from Friday, it would have supported his initial beliefs about you, it would have cleared him of being an asshole, and most of all, it would have changed the way he viewed you, from a genuinely beautiful person inside and out that took a sincere interest in bringing simple recognition to him and his friends to a cold-hearted superficial bitch that chalked up this elaborate plan as a vendetta with your jock friends.

But Eddie Munson knew you weren’t like that.

Which only made it hurt worse when he watched you pain through the sting of your manicured nails stabbing into your palms and your teeth sinking into your tender lip.

“Y-yes, that’s, uh, true, sir.” Your voice was so delicate, Eddie was ready to jump in and just take the blame. “He didn’t make me do anything, it was, uh, all me. I lied, and made him and his friends take the photo. And, well, I, uh, added the page and told Fred to print it.”

You shuddered at the sudden slap of the book, as Principal Higgins closed it with much despondency against you. “And is there valid reasoning as to why?!” Principal Higgins wasn’t one to be known for his placidness and he was quick to make that apparent. “You are the best student at this establishment, you should not be falling under influence of a hooligan like Mr. Munson! How have you fallen so naive all of a sudden?!”

You were really tugging on Eddie’s heart the way your eyes grew round with panic, completely helpless to the grown man scolding you, just as he did last Friday. And while he may have caused it the initial time, he’d be damned to watch it happen to you again.

“Hey, look, you can insult me all you want, but you don’t have to yell at her like she made some dire mistake!” Eddie lambasted Principal Higgins, far more harsh than any regular tone Eddie used when he was regularly being reprimanded. 

Higgins could only scoff in disbelief. “Vandalizing school property isn’t a mistake to you, Mr. Munson?! Well, given your grotesque track record of uncivilized activities, it seems as though I’ve answered my own question!” He sneered back with intended offense.

“Please, ‘vandalizing school property?!’” Eddie mocked. “She fucking put our picture in the yearbook, and for good reason, too. You’re the one at fault here, excluding students from recognition!”

The thudding sound of your heartbeat was completely muting you from the onslaught of shouts that was suffocating you in the tight room. While Nancy Wheeler was beginning to contemplate if telling Principal Higgins was too far, Fred Benson was merely watching with joy that none of the blame was being casted on him, and you, well, your body was racking with stiffness, as it suddenly felt like your airway was tightening every breath out of you. Your hands began shaking by your side, unable to control the instantaneous wave of trepidation, as everything was beginning to blur around you. 

And no one was noticing. 

“I have rightful reasons to exclude your gang of misfits from my yearbook!” Principal Higgins walked from his desk, standing against Eddie with pure spite in his eyes. “You and your posse of cons and aberrations have done nothing but taint the reputation of our school and town, running around like imbeciles who have nothing better to do than waste their lives away! And I will not stand to have you be associated with the work I’ve done to correct this school from delinquents like yourself!”

Chest heaving and nostrils flared, the Eddie Munson from the cafeteria instance was back, though angrier, and he was two seconds from actually gaining an assault charge from hitting Principal Higgins square in the face. But the older man was quick to turn, and eject his dissonant castigate towards you. 

“And you, missy!” Your eyes were blinking posthaste with fret to control the swell of tears that were burning your eyes, at the clashing outburst being directed against you. “How did you even gain the facilities to take such picture?!” 

Your mouth was dry with consternation, unable to formulate words, and simply quivering your mouth open.

And unlucky for you, Fred Benson spoke for you.

“After our yearbook meeting on Friday,” heads snapped at his gravelly voice, “she said she was going to stay after to work, and that she would lock up herself. She must have taken the key, and stolen a camera.”

Higgins scoffed with great disgust as he judged you, before turning to Nancy. “Ms. Wheeler, as president of the Yearbook Committee, had you permitted her to do so?” 

Nancy looked at you with guilt. She hadn’t anticipated the situation to blow up this much, though she spoke honestly to the authoritative eyes of Higgins. “Uh, no, I didn’t.” She meekly answered. 

“And Mr. Munson,” Eddie rolled his eyes, trying to control his frustrations before doing something he wouldn’t be able to take back. “When did Ms. Y/L/N enforce these photos?”

“Why the hell does that even matter?” Eddie gritted with a clenched jaw of tension.

“Mr. Munson, you choose not to answer me, and I will not hesitate to place you as an accomplice, and you certainly cannot afford another detention or suspension if you’re planning on finally ending this school year as a graduate.” In a perfect world, Eddie Munson would have lied for you and lessened whatever punishment you were about to receive, but Hawkins, Indiana was far from perfect, the threat made him budge under the pressure of his potential future and your distraught eyes.

“It was, uh, after her cheer practice. After school.” He sheepishly murmured with regret.

“Ah,” Principal Higgins turned to your shaking stature. “So, not only did you make unauthorized changes to the school yearbook, but you stole school property, used our equipment prohibitively outside of school hours, and actively unsubordinated my authority. I have to say, I am awfully disappointed in the person you have become, Ms. Y/L/N, and I am ashamed to have valued you so highly when you simply choose to go down the path of delinquency.” Everything about Principal Higgins words were humiliating and slammed you into a vicious cycle of believing the worst about yourself. “Finish the rest of your day,” he sighed, “but you’ll be suspended for the rest of the week for your actions.” Your heart sank at his news, and Eddie stood dumbfounded that he contributed to it. 

Your visions grew blurry under the swell of tears, and your breath was becoming sporadic with panic, and everyone just kept fucking staring at you. “N-no, sir, p-please!” You choked, “I-I have scholarships, a-and acceptances that I-I’m still waiting to hear back from, this could ruin that for me, p-please, sir!”

While your pleads were being disregarded, everyone stood stun watching your fate unfold in front of you. Eddie Munson didn’t know what to do. Nobody did. On top of being berated by him from Friday, you were now facing the worst possible consequence for something so trivial, and he watched it happen. Granted, there was quite literally nothing Eddie could do to fix the situation, but seeing you stand there, panicked about your future and trying to conceal your incoming sobs through the ache of heart palpitations, it was fucking excruciating for him to witness. 

“You should have thought about that before you made your choices. Everything is on you.” His words were ringing in your ear like a loop confirming everything you’ve ever hated about yourself. “I’ll be sure to let your father know of the news, and as for your spot on the committee, it is up to Ms. Wheeler to determine where you stand. Now go, everyone back to class.”

Fred Benson was first to leave, giddy to have been cleared from any trouble. Eddie Munson should have left, but he couldn’t stand to leave, simply watching you turn to Nancy Wheeler in a flash. Your round eyes were pleading to her to let you stay, but her previous words of “This is your only strike,” was tormenting you. She sighed, “I’m sorry,” and the shake of her head answered everything before she could verbalize it. 

You were off. 

You stormed out of the room, bumping shoulders with Eddie, though with no malice intent, just simply needing to get out. The second you reached the clearing of the empty hall, your tears were drowning your cheeks, your sobs so unbearably hard your breathing staggered for release. Suddenly, your little cashmere sweater felt like it was sticking to your skin, giving you hot flashes that brought dizziness to your pounding head. The blood battering your ears cleared out any noise, including Eddie’s calls of your name. He reached out to hold your arm, causing you to severely flinch in hysteria, and he appeared devastatingly concerned for your state of being.

“Sorry! Ar-are you okay?” He winced at the loud sob you choked out, as he felt stupid for even asking you that question. “Look, everything, uh, everything’s gonna be fine.” He rushed to reassure. In truth, Eddie Munson was completely talking out of his ass, he didn’t know if everything was going to be fine, your panicking was just causing him to panic, and all he wanted was for you to be okay. “J-just, uh, breathe for me.” He offered. 

“I-I c-can’t! I’m scared, Eddie, help me!” You pleaded with frightened eyes. 

Your beg hit too close to home. Suddenly, Eddie was a little boy curled up in the corner of his trashed living room, as he watched his parents abuse one another with words and fists. He pleaded the same words to his parents, who merely ignored his shaking little body. Such horrific events disfigured Eddie Munson’s belief of healing. No one cared for his emotions, no one cared for his feelings, and no one cared to make sure he was okay. So, yes, Eddie Munson yelled at you Friday night because he was petrified. Petrified to be hurt, just as everyone else had done, because to Eddie Munson, that was his fate. To be hurt and to be forgotten. Maybe that’s why he cared so much about being excluded from the school yearbook. While anyone would have rightfully been upset, being excluded cemented the notion that Eddie Munson was disposable. His father spoke it, the townspeople spoke, his teachers spoke, and his peers spoke it. But you didn’t, and that fucking scared him. It’s why he yelled, it’s why he panicked, and it’s why he’d try anything to help you right now.

“I-I know, sweetheart, just listen to me, please.” He quietly spoke. “I’m not gonna touch you or anything, I just really need you to listen to me.”

You fervently nodded your head, and he sighed with relief, because though minor, it was progress, and progress was incredible.

“I, uh, I want you to focus on my voice, okay?” His wide eyes connected with your red ones. “I wouldn’t lie to you, and I mean it when I say everything will be okay. I-I’ll make sure of it.” 

Could he physically do that? No. But would he try his damn hardest, putting his being through anything to make it happen? Yes. For you.

“Okay, I want you to-”

“What are you doing to her?!”

Eddie’s eyes screwed shut with disappointment. 

Jessica fucking Lewis.

“Get away from her!” She charged past him to get to your hysterical figure. “Did you do something?!”

“No, no, I’m trying to fucking help her.” Eddie implored. “Stop yelling, she’s having a fucking panic attack.” He gritted through his teeth.

“Don’t fucking come near her ever again, you freak!” Eddie watched as you tried to get your words out, but your shrinking throat made it impossible to get your voice out, and he recoiled, watching the fear in your eyes as Jessica held a tight grip in your arms. 

But before he could stop her, Jessica was dragging you into the girls bathroom, and he stood frozen doing everything in his power to not rip out his hair in frustration. 

-

Aside from her fault-finding comments against Eddie, Jessica Lewis had actually been a fairly good friend to you through the years of cheer, connecting with the girls through the pact of lifelong sisterhood, as she insisted. Though such pact also came with unwarranted advice when she felt one of you was “falling out of line” with a pristine, perfect image. That being said, when she found you panicking at the hands of Eddie Munson, she was actually concerned, impetuous, yes, but concerned, nonetheless. She’d sat with you, decisively skipping the rest of Mrs. Otis’ home economics class, to console you, bitching out any innocent girl to leave as they attempted to alleviate themselves, while you sat heaving with the back of your thighs sticking to cold tiles of the bathroom. When you did finally manage to catch your breath and calm your heart rate to a healthy status, Jessica had petted your hair with care, constantly asking what was wrong and what Eddie had done. Through your tremored voice, you hoarsely clarified that “He didn’t do anything,” and “He was just trying to help.” That revelation had actually baffled Jessica Lewis, honestly, some part of her believing you to be lying, but she gave it a rest when you assiduously shook your head in response to her asking what was actually wrong. By then, the bell had rung to signal the start of third period.

And it was during said third period when your situation only worsened completely unbeknownst to you.

While you were in the middle of trying to focus on your quiz—which proved damn near impossible after today’s events—Fred Benson was seemingly trying to get back at you for nearly inducing him into a heart attack after your actions almost cost him his spot on the Newspaper and Yearbook Committee (In reality, Nancy Wheeler had only yelled at him for not previously checking the books).

See, once Fred had informed the rest of the Yearbook Committee of what you had done and how you were being punished, the news had spread like wildfire; nerds, geeks, punks, jocks, everyone knew one version or another. “Perfect Cheerleader Falls Under Satanic Cultist’s Influence and Vandalizes School Facilities,'' small town high school students sure had a talent to dramatize any given situation. You’d only taken a picture, that’s all it was, but the students of Hawkins High had conspired together to formulate you into a freak slut who allegedly got fucked by the Eddie Munson after cheer practice in exchange for putting his club in the yearbook.

As the students of your class hurtled to mitigate the dreaded boredom of the school day with the clashing laughter and stale food of lunch, you sighed in your seat, head pounded and anxiety still churning in your mind and stomach, slowly packing up your belongings before handing over the quiz—quite literally the worst you’ve ever performed on one. Lunch seemed like the worst possible thing to conquer, right now. Despite the horrid grumbling of your stomach, you felt no need to satiate that hunger, as your appetite was long gone for the afternoon. In addition, you’d known Jessica Lewis long enough to know that she had informed all your friends of your panic attack, and if you chose to call her out on it, you knew you would only be met with a “I’m only trying to help,” as if you needed an intervention. She’d done it to Paige Semore when the girl healthy gained a couple pounds over the summer and got ridiculed by Jess.

But when you entered the cafeteria, you quickly wished you were subjected to Jessica Lewis’ harmful “advice”, rather than the reality you got.  

The sound of the heavy double doors announced your arrival, and suddenly all eyes were on you. No, like quite literally, all eyes were on you. No greeting smiles from acquaintances, no shying-away looks from crushing students, no bright wave hello from Chrissy Cunningham from across the cafeteria, in fact, she was heavily avoiding you, seemingly finding the table more interesting as Jason Carver glared at you. Everyone was staring at you as if, without notice, you had become the town pariah. Because you had. Your perturbation had bombarded you like a missile hit, as quiet whispers flooded your senses. Peering around you caught his eyeline. Eddie. His brows had severely been furrowed with much worry, because he knew. He knew how quickly it went around, and he knew just how bad the news got twisted. Now, he was no stranger to the onslaught of destructive rumors, but you weren’t, and with the day you had, his chest was pounding with dread for you.

Chalking it up to merely being in your head, you swallowed the lump in your throat, and with quick steps, you sped to your usual lunch table. But everyone kept staring- your friends were staring. “Can someone tell me what the hell is going on?” You whispered, as they genuinely looked at you with disgust. 

“Why don’t you tell us?” Jason scowled. “Seems like you’re the one who caused all of this, you desperate slut.”

Your mouth dropped incredulously. “What did you just call me?”

“You fucking heard me!” Jason stood from his chair, rejecting Chrissy’s quiet ask to not cause a scene. “It’s exactly what you are.” He laughed.

Eddie Munson’s residual anger was fueling. Hard. He stood from his chair all the way across the room, metal legs scraping the floor with a deafening screech. But his presence only caught the worst attention. “Oh, would you look at that? Your little freak coming to help you?”

Eddie faltered at your watery eyes, begging for everything to just stop. If he spoke, nothing would help you. “What are you talking about?” Your voice stung with pleads to just understand what was happening to you.

“Stop acting like you don’t fucking know!” Andy’s booming voice startled you. “You wanna choose some gross freak to fuck, then fine by us, go right ahead, but don’t think that you’ll be able to with us!” Andy McAvoy was taking it far more personal. He liked you. That was obvious. But hearing the rumors simply led him to believe you chose Eddie Munson over him.

“What?” Your voice cracked in distress. 

Eddie had had enough. 

“She didn’t fucking do anything!” He marched his way over. All the boys of the basketball team stood in preparation for a fight that Eddie Munson was known to love to finish. Finish, not start. “Your bland lives got that fucking boring you all have to go around making shit up to make things interesting?! She didn’t do anything!”

“Aw, defending your precious little fuck toy, isn’t that cu-”

Chrissy Cunningham's shrilling scream startled the entire cafeteria as Jason Carver’s blood stained her powdery skin. You flinched at the bone-crunching punch that busted Jason’s pretty face, and everything felt heavy in your chest. Your hands were beginning to shake beyond your control, as everything was horrifyingly disfiguring in front of you. It was happening again. Before your mind was about to shut off from the assault of today’s events, your instinct had elicited all rash decisions, and you had to leave. All you could comprehend was the diffusing sounds of students instigating the fight before everything fell silent and you trudged down the hall to escape.

Staff were quick to call Eddie’s name before another detrimental hit was casted upon Jason. It was only then, Eddie’s judgment was left unclouded, and he noticed you were gone. “Did she leave?” He hadn’t necessarily asked anyone in particular, moreso questioning himself, but Chrissy Cunningham had ardently answered him with a swift nod of her head and bulging eyes of fear. 

Eddie broke through the doors with force, catching you near the end of the hall. “Y/N!” You didn’t turn, though. Every repeated call of your name fell with no response, and he chased you down, following you into the zephyr of the afternoon weather outside. “Y/N, c’mon, wait!” He’d grabbed your arm.

“What?!”

Eddie staggered at your biting tone. Not once, in the four years he’d known of you—freshman to senior year—had he ever heard your voice so malicious, yet drowning in urgence to make everything stop. Your inconsolable state devastating him helplessly. 

“I-I’m sorry.” He sighed so softly.

“‘Sorry?’” You affronted. “Now you’re sorry?! After everything that’s happened! Why, is it out of fucking pity?!” Internally, Eddie was begging you to stop, because if you kept yelling at him like this, his defense mechanism was going to lash out, especially when he was already angry from everything that’s just happened. “I don’t want some stupid apology, not when every time you appear, my life gets worse! I just want you away!” You cried.

Eddie scoffed in disbelief. Were you actually blaming him for all this? No, you weren’t. But after the day you just had, you were not looking to be comforted by someone who partially hurt you. But Eddie Munson couldn’t understand. His judgment had a habit of being clouded; his cynicism about anything good happening to him had protected him from a lifetime of hurt, and now, unfortunately, your rightfully pent up polemic about him was believing his suspicions to be true. 

“This isn’t my fucking fault, you’re the one who wanted to take our picture in the first place!” He shouted, shielding his vulnerability. 

“Because you made a big deal out of it!” You screamed with frustration. “You yelled at me first, you said mean things to me first- why- why were you so mean to me?!” You blubbered through drowning tears.

“Because- be- ugh,” Eddie pained with vexation. “You fucking terrify me, okay?! You terrify the living shit out of me!” Guarding his tearing eyes from your shattered being, he groaned realizing you weren’t going to understand unless he opened up, but he couldn’t bear to, and maybe that was the best solution to move on, run away. “It’s just fucking hard when, you know, you look like that and you’re fucking you, and I’m just me, and you have a great life-”

“‘Great life?!’” You derided through tears. “You know nothing about my life!” You shoved him. “You know nothing about me!” You shoved him again. Eddie was quick to retrain your wrist in a tight grip, preventing you from touching him again, no matter how hard you tried. “Stop acting like you know everything about me when you know absolutely nothing! I’m not going to stand here, and let you say mean things to me, when you know nothing, do you understand?! I have never done anything to you, and I never will, because unlike you, I’m not some sulking asshole who can’t handle their fucking emotions, and uses their sorry life to lash out at people because they’re too pathetic to deal with their own problems!”

And maybe your rash psycho analysis of Eddie Munson was too much, or not harsh enough, but either way, your critical comments derailed him off the edge of sanity. He aggressively dropped your wrist, and got into your face with a full might of fury. “You are such a miserable bitch!” He shouted, invading your space with intent, causing you to wince and step away from him, but he wasn’t relenting. “For once, you got a fucking taste of what your bullshit friends have been doing to me, and now you can’t fucking handle it?! God, just love playing the fucking victim, don’t you?! Maybe they are right, maybe you are just some fucking desperate slut craving fucking attention?! Is that why you did all this shit in the first place?!”

The way your face flashed with sudden dejection had him biting his tongue. Oh, fuck. He regretted it. He fucking immediately regretted it. 

Eddie began furiously shaking his head in denial to what he just uttered, he couldn’t believe it. “No,” he heaved out. “No, I-I didn’t mean it, I’m s-sorry.” He could only muster a whisper.

You didn’t even have the energy to fight back, merely accepting his words as truth with a silent sob that burned your being. “Yeah,” you shakily sighed with a sniffle of sobs. “I’m sorry, too, Eddie. I would have loved being your friend, and now I just want nothing to do with you.” His heart dropped at your calmness. When he first spoke those words to you, demanding you to stay away from him and his friends, he knew a deep part of him didn’t mean it. Why would he, you were fucking perfect? But you, the stillness and tranquility of your words cemented them to be the final verdict. You were done. “So please,” you wiped your drenched face from tears, “just leave me alone and stay away from me.”

No malice, no anger, no fury.

Just pure defeat.

𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 | This is my first time making a tag list, and I got overwhelmed—in a good way—that I simply tagged anyone who commented. If you were not looking to be tagged, I’m so sincerely sorry, and please let me know to respect your wishes and remove you!

(Big, fat kisses to all of you) @televisionboy @batkin028 @lostdreamingwallflower @cevais @myfavoritesareproblematic @btbabyy @married-to-the-music01 @super-nova-03 @deathnote6666 @cherrytc @sleepy-bunnie @eggo-segual @bambi-horror @aheadfullofsteverogers @sademoloser @averagestudent03 @freakymunson @princess-eddie @imagine-a-world-blog1 @negativity4you

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@gewrgia-black @hookandchain @roseanddaggerlarry @prestinalove @sebismyhubby @maddsunn

(I’m so sorry, some blogs are not popping up when I try to tag y’all, if it’s an issue on my part, I’ll try my best to fix it as soon as possible)

[kpoptrashlord-007]

Sir;; CYJ

Word Count;; 2.7k

Genre;; Smut, E2Ls

Pairing;; Yeonjun x Fem!Reader

Summary;;

You’re at your wits end when it comes to your boss’s spoiled son. Beyond the point of formalities and long past niceties, it’s high time the tension between the two of you finds some form of release.

Request;;

@light164star asked: hard!dom yeonjun is very much welcome…

Warnings;;

Smut, Enemies to Enemies That Fuck, Reader is a higher-up in the company but Yeonjun is the CEO's son, exhibitionism but lowkey, office sex, kinda hate sex? kinda rough, brat taming?, Reader thinks she's a dom but…, Dom!Yeonjun, biting and clawing, ass slapping, pussy slapping, face slapping (jk), vaginal fingering, mild humiliation, orgasm denial. There are no safe words or the likes – it’s fiction lol.

Notes;;

Writing Yeonjun brings out the worst in me :) yet somehow I still wasn’t able to summon forth a really hard dom. I just don’t have it in me I guess. Coming back to edit this several months later and I gotta say, I love this Reader!

Main Masterlist

“I bet you like that.”

Gaze darting to Yeonjun and his overconfident smirk, your lips press into a firm line. He’s made a habit of getting on your nerves as of late, knowing full well you can't retaliate without repercussions. His status affords him unwarranted respect, allowing him to run rampant in your life. Day in and day out, he's a menace. It takes all your willpower not to give him a piece of your mind right here and now but instead you fix your posture. Sitting a little taller, you clear your throat. Everyone’s eyes are on you. You can’t let him get under your skin. 

“As I was saying, they’re slamming us with these accusations. Our reputation can’t handle it. Any suggestions?”

Silence. 

“Not a single idea? I didn’t realise we were paying you to be slack-jawed buffoons,” you seethe, slamming your presentation binder shut. 

“W-well, maybe we could release a different scandal as a distraction?”

You roll your eyes. “Anyone else?”

"Why not throw some money at them until they shut up?"

“Or run a smear campaign on them."

"Boooring," Yeonjun sighs, spinning in his chair. "Might as well tell my father to declare bankruptcy at this rate."

"Well, please enlighten us since you're obviously teeming with ideas."

"Sure, but you're not going to like it."

"What a surprise." You tap your pen against the table. "Spit it out."

"For years now their CEO has been eye-fucking you. I say we wrap you in a little bow and–"

“Why are you even here?” Scathing hot words match the intense heat spreading across your nape like wildfire. “Can't you laze about somewhere else? This is a meeting for professionals, not kids playing adult.”

If a pin dropped, you'd hear it. No one dares breathe. There's a tumultuous air between you and Yeonjun, and your subordinates are stuck in the middle. Examining the presentation notes with newfound interest, not a single one of them has the balls to meet your eyes. 

Aside from Yeonjun, of course. He can't seem to look away. His lips curl up into a devilish smile as he leans forward, the table squeaking as he rests his elbows upon it. With a quirk of the brow, he tilts his head and chuckles. A part of you relishes in his reaction, eager to push his buttons at any given opportunity.

"Everyone, out. I expect a full report as well as viable solutions before the day's end," you say, the finality in your tone biting. 

The room can't empty fast enough. Papers jostle and sing as they're shoved into briefcases. Chairs groan in relief with every new departure. Within seconds you're alone with your boss's son, the bane of your existence. You wait with an impatient frown for him to follow the crowd. 

His dark eyes bore into you. Like a beast on the prowl, he doesn't let you out of his sight as he closes the door. A gentle breeze squeezes through before metal seals against metal. It's much colder without the extra bodies inside. You shudder. 

"Do you need something, Yeonjun?" 

"Isn't that"—the door locks with a loud clack—"Mr. Choi to you?" 

"I don't respect positions given through nepotism."

Even louder than the lock is the thud of his shoes as he approaches you. Shoving a chair out of his way, he navigates the mess left behind from the meeting with ease. Paper crumples underfoot but he doesn't pause. There's a storm brewing; it flashes through the cracks of his smooth exterior. 

Once he stands between you and the desk, going so far as pushing your chair back with his heel, he pulls out his phone. The glass walls tint. While you can look out, the rest of the workplace can no longer see in. Just swell. You huff, crossing your arms while you wait for him to rant and whine then finally leave. 

"Shouldn't you call me… sir?"

"Shouldn't you, I don't know, earn that right?" 

He scoffs. "I do plenty around here."

"Plenty of nothing is still nothing. Unless you have something important to say, make yourself scarce. Some of us actually have to work."

It strikes a nerve and God does it feel good. His nostrils flare as he nods, forcing a smile onto his much too pretty face. You return it, though you imagine it is more akin to a smirk. Which would explain why the veins in his neck are bulging. Indulging in the moment, you watch his Adam's apple bob up and down in an angry little dance. 

"I'm not leaving until you call me 'Sir'."

Pulled from your entertaining reverie, you’re face-to-face with his overwhelming audacity. 

"Then I'll leave," you snap, his persistence eating away at your patience. The back of your chair slams against the wall. Standing much too quickly, you break into his space with a well-placed leg lodged between his spread thighs, "because I'll never call you 'sir'."

His legs close around you. Unable to flee, you’re stuck within his intoxicating close proximity. The ticking of the clock subsides and all that remains is the thrum of your racing heart. You gulp down your anxiety before straightening your shoulders in an act of composure. His hands trace up the length of your arms, leaving electricity in their wake. When his tongue peeks out from between gleaming teeth, your resolve weakens. 

Yeonjun is going to be the death of you. 

"That sounds like a challenge," he coos. Trapping your jaw in a tight grip, his fingers burn hotter than the flood of warmth rolling through your system. His lips brush against yours as he leans forward. The delectable scent of his cologne clouds your senses. It's dizzying. "Should we bet on it?"

It would be easy to push him away, perhaps even slap him (once for his arrogance then again for good measure), and yet… 

"If I win you have to be a good little boy and” —his eyes narrow— "do your job from now on."

"And when I win you will call me Sir in and out of the bedroom."

Scoffing, your tone drips with incredulity, "When you win–"

The words are smothered by the press of his lips against yours. Your mind races as he unzips your skirt but when it drops past your thighs he abandons it, focusing his attention elsewhere and leaving you to wrestle the tight fabric the rest of the way. His fingers entangle in your hair as you shimmy your legs and kick the skirt onto the floor. Nails scrape along your scalp, a biting sting left behind as he yanks your head back. You whimper from the roughness of his touch, ravenous and angry, and he takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss. His tongue tastes like apple as it toys with yours. 

Eyes squeezed shut, the first smack comes out of nowhere. Tantalising pain blossoms across your arse. The second earns a soft yelp. He swallows the sound. You were unaware of how tight his hold on your hair was until it’s gone, leaving a lingering ache in its place. Tracing the curve of your cheek, he wipes away the tears before they spill. It’s tender, much more gentle than you thought him capable of, but it doesn’t last. Another strike against your raw flesh leaves you trembling. Clinging to his shirt, your hands ball up in fists as he massages your skin.

You break the kiss to glare at him. A coy smirk twists his lips and desire blazes in his eyes. He possesses an intensity you’ve never known. It’s all-consuming. Unable to hold his stare, you look toward the door. Still locked. Biting your bottom lip, you watch as members of your team walk past, oblivious to the sin taking place just beyond the darkened glass. 

Yet you can’t shake the thought of being caught, 

can’t escape how it ignites a fire in your core, 

can’t stop your cunt from clenching in anticipation. 

“Anything you want to say?” 

“Yes, actually,” you say with a chuckle, ignoring logic in pursuit of pleasure. Overheated, your mind is an incoherent jumble. You know you should end this before it devolves into something you can’t stop but there’s a carnal urge within you. Desperate to be stung, you kick the hornet’s nest. “You’re as inadequate as a lover as you are an employee.”

Tilting your chin back toward him, he groans when you refuse to look him in the eye. “God, I’m going to ruin you.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

There’s no real bite behind your words. They’re hollow just like your promise to remain professional around your boss’s fucking son. How much of a horny idiot does one have to be to get involved with Yeonjun of all people? A fresh wave of embarrassment explodes throughout your body. This is career suicide, so why are you guiding his hand under your skirt while your tongue grazes his jaw?

“I knew you were a freak,” he purrs into your ear, the baritone of his voice eliciting a shudder. 

“Luckily for me, so are you.”

With little grace he flips you around and pushes you down on the table. It shakes and creaks as he follows close behind, lowering himself until your bodies meet. Lifting your leg onto his back, his hips thrust against yours. The friction is electrifying. Though the sensation is minimal, it is just enough to leave you wanting.  

Animalistic, you claw at his shirt. Buttons fly free before hitting the table with sharp taps. His shirt opens to reveal a toned chest. His expression morphs into that of a smirk, confidence oozing from his sparkling eyes. It’s enough to halt your admiration – you don’t intend to boost his overinflated ego. With a glower you run your nails down his torso. Red streaks decorate his skin. 

“At this rate you'll be calling me ‘sir’,” you sigh, feigning disinterest. It’s all in vain as your body follows in tandem to the slow grind of his hips. 

“What a wild imagination you have.”

Gripping both of your wrists within one large hand, he pins your arms above your head. He doesn’t hold back. His lips latch onto your neck and he sucks on the skin until you whine. Tantalising and deliberate, he grinds against your cunt one last time before rising to his knees. Your body instinctively lifts, eager to bask in his warmth longer, and you have to dip your head away to hide your shame. 

“Keep your eyes on me.” 

There’s a sternness in his tone that has you faltering. Hesitantly you turn back to him for a mere second before giving up, choosing to watch how the office is carrying on without you. A mistake, you realise too late, as Yeonjun slaps your pussy. Fire blossoms in your gut. You clench around nothing, your toes curling. He slaps the sensitive area again and you squirm in his grasp, an indignant mewl passing through your parted lips. 

“Look at me.”

Your gaze snaps to him. Magnetised, you can’t look away. Once more he slaps your cunt, mouthing something about you being a bad girl. The pain is delicious – shocking and intense. It sets your nerves ablaze. Back rising off the table, you arch toward him. The contact you expect doesn’t come; instead you’re greeted with the harsh nipping of his teeth. He clamps down on your breast, biting hard to combat how your bra shields you. Never one to make things easy, you fall away from him. Your breast slides free of his mouth without much fight but the clothing is another story. 

As you drop there’s a snap. Like a small whip, one of your bra straps licks your back in an angry assault. You wince as it lashes your bare skin. After taking a moment to catch your breath and clear your mind, you allow your teary eyes to reopen. His chest heaves as he snickers around your clothing. He doesn’t let go, tugging on your shirt until it stretches. 

“Bastard!” you growl, baring your teeth. 

Spitting the fabric out, he releases your wrists and licks his lips. “Hush now. I’ll buy my little honey a new one. Would you like that?”

“You’re damn right you will!”

His nails tickle your stomach, trailing up your chest to toy with the collar of your shirt. The material constricts around you as he lifts you with one hand. All teeth and tongue, he kisses you, stealing your breath until you manage to break away. Head lolling to the side, you transfer your whole weight into his hold, ignoring how your shirt digs into your back. 

He tuts. “Where are your manners?” 

When he lets go, the table wobbles as your body slams down upon it. Pens clatter to the floor. Your pained irritation warps into a wide-eyed shock when he drags his fingers up your thigh before pushing your panties aside. Two fingers slip into your soaked cunt. Gasping loud enough to be heard by anyone outside the door, panic chokes you. When you glance out and see no one nearby, the churning within your gut slows. Your heart stammers in your chest. This isn't like you. What the hell are you doing?

Unceremoniously fast and rough, he pumps his fingers in and out of your wet pussy. Squelching reaches your ears. Red hot embarrassment has you whimpering beneath him. He smirks against your skin, breath warm against your collarbone. He massages your clit with his thumb and you can’t stop your body from reacting. Lightning quick you clamp a hand over your mouth to silence your strangled moan before you alert the whole office to his lewd actions.

“My pretty little slut is making a mess all over my fingers,” he taunts, using said fingers to scissor you open. “You’re going to drip onto the table at this rate.”

"Sh-shut up," you pant. 

"Still so rude. Shall I stop?"

When he pauses, you whine. It’s not your proudest moment but you yearn for him. Your body craves his touch, your mind desires his taunts. Clenching around his fingers, your pussy begs for him, something the rational part of your mind still refuses to do. It’s only a matter of time before you break, however. Thoughts of his cock driving deep and fast into your needy cunt squashes the remainder of your willpower.

“If you want something, use those pretty little lips and beg for it.”

You glare at him out of pride but comply nonetheless. “Please.”

“Maybe,” he hums, pumping his fingers twice before pulling out completely, “you should try harder.”

You’re empty without his touch. It’s shameful how quick you fell to him, how easily you crumbled to his whims. You could end it all here and now–tell him to get to work and walk out–but that’d be like quitting. Even losing is better than quitting, at least that’s what you tell yourself as you grab his belt buckle. Within seconds it’s on the floor. It isn’t until you’re yanking his pants down that he halts your actions. 

Always so condescending, he chides you. “Not so fast, princess. You haven’t earned it.”

Lips forming a small pout, you huff. A lazy smirk crosses his features and he coos, tapping your nose. Every inch of your being burns with indignation. You should leave, you know you should, but there’s a part of you that’s loving it. Loving how he belittles you, loving how he takes control. There’s no denying how wet you are from the mere notion of submitting. Abandoning the last of your sensibility you relent. 

“Please, sir,” you whimper, the words foreign on a tongue so used to taking charge, “I need your cock. No… no one else will do, I need you.”

He sighs, the sound mocking everything you’ve ever stood for, and cradles your face. The triumphant grin adorning his near-perfect face only serves to wound your pride further. There’s a sparkle in his eyes that spells trouble. Gloating, he leans down to your level, his mere presence warming your skin in anticipation.

“Then get on your knees and work for it.”

   – ♡ –  If you enjoyed this, please consider liking, commenting, reblogging, and/or following! Thank you!

[matchalovertrait]

Antonio met Yoltic at The Beehive when it had just opened for business two years ago. Like a normal person, he was there to get his clothes fitted and nothing more. However, Yoltic sensed Antonio's "vibes" and decided to be the extrovert to "adopt" this broody introvert. Antonio won't outright admit it, but Yoltic is a cool guy to hang out with. Once they started spending more time together, Yoltic casually mentioned how Dani had been struggling to find a job ever since they moved from Mexico to the United States. For mental health reasons, she did not want to be a teacher again, but no other places were open-minded enough to her. Antonio happened to be in need of a paralegal, so he took her under his wing and trained her. The rest is history!

NOTE: Dulce doesn't mind geeks, she just can't imagine Antonio being a D&D player! I've played it before too, by the way. Fun game! My character was a vampire named Madame Blade lol.

Transcript

DULCE: Well, I better go now.

DANIELA: Hey, guys!

DULCE: Oh my gosh!! Hey, Dani!!

ANTONIO: Hi, Daniela.

DANIELA: Looks like he took the news well...

DULCE: More or less.

DANIELA: Hey Tony, Yoltic wanted me to ask if you were still up for Dungeons and Dragons tonight.

DULCE: Hold the phone. YOU play Dungeons and Dragons?

ANTONIO: What about it?

DULCE: STOP!! No way!! Mr. “Dark and Mysterious” over here is a geek!!! [Cackles]

DULCE: What’s your character?! An orc? No, no, probably something lame like a human.

DANIELA: He’s actually the Dungeon Master. He writes the campaigns for us.

[Dulce’s laughter intensifies.]

DULCE: That’s even worse!! No, better!!!

DANIELA: You should join us sometime! You’re very imaginative.

DULCE: Me?

DANIELA: Don’t act like you didn’t read comic books as a kid.

DULCE: Fair point.

DULCE: Anyway, I gotta go!!! Bye guys!

DANIELA: Have a safe flight!

ANTONIO: Answer the emails.

ANTONIO: Why are you looking at me like that?

DANIELA: Oh, no reason.

ANTONIO: I’m not buying that.

DANIELA: She keeps you on your toes, huh?

ANTONIO: What she does is raise my blood pressure by an exorbitant amount. Remind me again why I took her case.

DANIELA: For the same reason you hired me? You have a good heart.

ANTONIO: [Scoffs]

DANIELA: And that’s why you would have never taken Caruso’s offer.

ANTONIO: Wouldn’t dream of it. Let’s get out of here. Tell Yoltic to get some chips for everyone.

[starshinegazer]

Shoutout Sunday

I just wanted to collect some of the most memorable Astarion fanfics I've read so far and to give them and their authors a big ol' shoutout. These are some of the fics I strongly suggest others to check out, if you haven't yet.

Also, please feel free to comment and recommend your favorites as well! And, if you know of some of these authors on tumblr, lemme know, so I can add them too :) I'm not too good with words, so I'll be slapping some of the authors own words as descriptions (for now). Oh, and do be mindful of tags etc etc... Here goes, in no particular order:

Pieces Still Stuck In Your Teeth by howlsmovinglibrary (@wetcatspellcaster) "The Vampire Ascendent has crossed a line. Eleven years after making the biggest mistake of her life and losing the man she loved, tiefling wizard (now Archmage) Rosalie decides it’s time to put this Astarion in the ground for good. Hopefully, both her head and her heart are strong enough to see this awful task through to its end."

An Honest Lie by howlsmovinglibrary (@wetcatspellcaster) "Astarion and Rosalie think they understand each other perfectly, but they have each fallen prey to the other’s mask. As they both go forward with their adventure, will either of them dare to be honest?"

A Crooked Touch by eyes_of_the_lamb "If you want to read a story where Astarion is sweet from the start and Tav is here to fix him, this isn't the one. If you want to read about two terribly broken men spending a good long while making each other worse before they make each other better, this might be for you. If you thought the in-game romance was a little too easy and it should have been ten times more painful and difficult to convince Astarion he's worthy of love, this is definitely for you."

Perfect Slaughter by Imagineitdear (@imagineitdearies ) "Tyrus, a low-born drow with aspirations for necromantic wizardry, finds none of the hospitality he expected from his new noble patron, Cazador Szarr. Quickly he loses his life and future, his hopes and dreams—only to find something new to fight for in the unlikely arms of Cazador’s least favorite spawn."

A Novel Experience by meanboss (@meanbossart ) "Initially just an epilogue for my own game campaign with my big meaty dark urge drow, turned whole story which I accidentally deleted and am now reuploading, my bad LOL

Hope you enjoy!"

Carving Through The Dark by skitter "The realm is safe and the story is over.

Wren and Astarion descend into the Underdark in search of a new purpose, and learn a few things along the way. Namely, that healing isn't linear and sometimes love takes the long way round."

Blood In The Weave by gingealish "There is no need to breathe, but I miss it all the same. The suffocating silence, the desperate darkness have encapsulated me for I don’t even know how long; It could have been tendays or years. I’ve long since accepted my punishment, stopped trying in vain to crack the seal of my tomb against the onslaught of panic and hunger. Now I lay here, thinking of the friends I’ve lost, the lover who turned on me, and how to finally get even.

Astarion is the new Big Bad Evil Guy. Spawn Tav is rescued by a familiar face. "

When He’s all but Forgotten How to Love Again by bg_brainrot "You saved Baldur’s Gate almost 300 years ago. You died 150 years ago. On a new life now, you find that memories from your past lead you to a specific silver-haired man. Who was he, and why won't he leave you be? tldr; An Elf-Tav reincarnation story where Tav dreams about Astarion in their nightly reveries and eventually seeks him out once they reach maturity. Things definitely totally go well."

More Than Any Words by mataglap "They have saved the city and possibly the world. All is great and everyone is happy... except Astarion has been banished back into the shadows, and Tav is stuck in an uneven battle with his own oath. He's losing the fight. He knew he would from the moment he fell for Astarion. But he can't lose yet, not before they find a way for Astarion to walk in the sun again."

Inexhaustible Oil by homeward_bound "This is the absolute opposite of a redemption fic. A post-canon, fall-from-grace, "I can make you infinitely worse" kind of story, in which there is no simple happy ending. But there's mystery on the way. And dragons. True love, even. So if you're fine with that, come aboard. It's going to be a wild ride."

[dreamingsnowflake2013]

Now, we know why Seo Do Guk is such a prince in a shining armour; he's been brought up by THREE AWESOME QUEENS. If I liked them before, now I utterly adore them, be it the mom, grandma, or sister; while they might be understandably cautious about Yi Joo since she is a woman they have only just met, few minutes in the company of her "family" members is enough to immediately see the new fiancée of their beloved boy has grown up in a vipers' pit and been poisoned by them way too many times to count.

Seo Do Na is the MOOOOOD.

Lady, you must have a death wish. You might diss your adoptive daughter in front of everyone, but by giving that condescending look to Cha Yeon Hwa's daughter, you've managed to make an enemy of a woman who even the Seo chairwoman fears in the first five minutes of meeting her. Do Guk's mother looks like she is ready to strangle her on the spot, and she still doesn't even begin to know the worst of her.

Yi Joo's adoptive mother tries to disparage her in the eyes of her future in-laws, but it's them, these virtual strangers to her, especially Do Guk's mom who treat her like a real family - they support her and defend her against her own parents. Actually, his mother looks at her with more motherly love and kindness. her mother has ever done. She barely knows her, but her heart already reaches out to her.

And so, on this day, Han Yi Joo's Defence Squad / Armada has been established with general Cha Yeon Hwa at its helm and the her two captains Seo Do Na and Lee Tae Ja by her side.

LOL! Like mother, like son - they are two peas in the same pod. She might have criticized Do Guk for his choice of a bride at first, but no matter how much she tries to deny it, she is already halfway in love with Yi Joo as well.

Like she is one step from joining her son's campaign to plump her up and cook her meals with him. Seriously, if Do Guk didn't plan to marry Yi Joo, she might have adopted her herself.

She might deny it all she wants, but beneath that tough as nails exterior, she is a big softie, in fact, all three woman are, and they are exactly what Yi Joo needs in her life.

[meanbossart]

ASK COMPILATION ABOUT THE WEIRD DROW

Replying to a couple of shorter questions! Sorry that I can't get to all of you lest this blog just turns into a stream of constant asks, but I read all of your messages and to be honest there are several that I'm saving to draw something for 😭 alas there are only so many hours in a day.

Thank you for all the support and interactivity as always!

He takes fairly good care of things he considers important or useful - otherwise he's pretty messy or at least indifferent to mess. Definitely a "leaves the wet towel on the bed" guy LOL

Okay so I was bad and not used to DnD mechanics or spells the first time I played the game, so I RARELY ever cast Speak With Animals and had very little sense of their personality during his campaign - BUT THERE WAS THIS ONE TIME WHEN I DID.

THERE WAS ONE TIME WHERE I REMEMBERED.

AND IT WAS PERFECT.

He adores and most of all respects this intense little guy with his whole heart.

[MORE UNDER THE CUT]

Serious answer: he respects wild animals far too much to try and make one into a pet.

Non-serious but still true answer: He would never do that and have to deal with Astarion's incessant Drizzt Do'urden joke comparisons for the rest of his existence. That's that man's personal hell.

He's fairly adaptable! But as far as dynamics go, he does lean bottom regardless of who he's with in bed, but this doesn't necessarily translate into always being on the receptive end of things.

If he were to be with a cisgender woman who doesn't wear a strap like its a second pair of briefs, he would be more than happy to be the pitcher the majority of the time. I think the only scenario where he would be dissatisfied is a restrictive one - he couldn't be with someone who doesn't want to enjoy his whole body in earnest, or who can't flip the roles every once in a while. Also, you have to be a little gross. He has probably caught Astarion off-guard with the things he did on a whim/suggested they do more than once. All in all, as long as whoever he's with is versatile and not a prude, they could probably make it work.

He killed Minthara in her lair and all he got was a bear out of it. Good thing killing her was it's own reward!

MAN... Could just be that his story is far too concrete in my brain already, but it's hard for me to see that working. They are both far too out of touch with their emotions and quiet in their demeanor for me to envision a durable romance sparking. Also, DU drow (who has no clue how old he is himself) thinks of Shadowheart as being far too young for him.

There is a mutual understanding between them that there is a barrier that neither of them is willing to let the other get past - and because that is something they both share, they won't, and they might never try. They work so well as friends because of their similarities, but in a relationship I think that would be to their detriment.

Also, I think silver-haired Shadowheart's wants and needs for her future far diverge from DU drow's chaotic lifestyle, ultimately It's probably best for them to make their own paths.

HAHAHAHA LISTEN.... YOU'RE TALKING AS IF THOSE TWO THINGS DON'T GO TOGETHER PERFECTLY WELL BUT IN MY MIND THEY ARE ONE AND THE SAME.

The thing about DU drow is that he might be a bottom, but he's a very... Uh, engaged bottom. He can be as dominant with a dick in his ass as he can be submissive depending on how it jives with his partner- and he's gonna spew some nonsense either way LOL

Either way... I feel ya brother 😔🍑

He did it himself during a dinner Gortash invited him to. At the table. With a meat knife. He was trying to prove a really stupid point/put Gortash off of him.

I have a script for this and I still need to draw it someday! 🤦‍♂️

He doesn't think anything of it now - it's so far in the past and DU drow obviously isn't the judgemental type when it comes to sordid individuals LOL

As a person, however, Astarion likely wasn't the kind of guy that he would have gotten along with, and vice-versa. Sounds to me like he was pretty poshy and did all his misdeeds under the table - DU drow wouldn't have strong feelings about it from an ethical standpoint, but he wouldn't respect it either. Also, DU drow's is practically anarchistic in his political views - soooooo not much room there to be in love with politicians. I'm sure pre-vampirism Astarion would have less than favorable opinions about him as well so the feeling would have been mutual LOL.

ABSOLUTELY NOT HE NEEDS BOTH EYES TO CUT THROUGH FOES he will gladly put Gale on the slab to see what happens though LMAO

[utilitycaster]

Wizard Breakdown Tracker: Echoes of the Solstice

You know it, you love it, it may return on an as-needed basis for Campaign 3 now that Allura has entered the narrative and we know the fate of Caleb, but no promises: it's the Wizard Breakdown Tracker! As a reminder, I now include PCs because I make the rules; wizard NPCs are included on the very scientific basis of "do I have something I think is kind of funny or meaningful to say" so as always, if I left someone off, it was on purpose specifically to annoy you.

Astrid Becke: well her boss is missing, Caleb has expressed concerns in private to Beau about all of the Assembly, apparently the king is bedridden and has been for some time, and I suspect news of unsealed things being unsealed gets to her quickly; even if she isn't aware of the events in Blumenthal yet, she's about to be. Also, it's the apogee solstice. 8/10; ever the opportunist, it is a good time for her to try to become head of the Assembly, but also shit's gone real sideways.

Eadwulf Grieve: lost his title of hottest mage (men's division) to one Fjord Stone during the last Nicodranas County Fair and has been sulking ever since but more importantly the temple of the Raven Queen is doing Not Great Bob as of like an hour ago so a rare Eadwulf stress moment. 7/10.

Planerider Ryn: just lost her arm...but is unaware of it, so that's probably helping. technically cannot be calculated because she is a rock but spiritually like an 8/10 and that's only because she is remarkably unflappable; she just witnessed the Malleus Key and that should drive anyone up to a 10.

Allura Vysoren: has absolutely sensed a disturbance in the force weave and I'm sure Kima's feeling some bad vibes from Bahamut right now, but rather like Ryn she actually has some degree of sangfroid, a concept unheard of in the entire continent of Wildemount. 6/10.

Yussa Errenis: have you ever dealt with like, an ER Nurse, and unless something is actually exploding or someone is actually bleeding out they're like "yeah it be like that sometimes"? After you've been sucked into the Cognouza Hivemind while trying to do your silly little arcane investigations nothing short of the Calamity will ruffle you. He's an elf; he knows this solstice is wonky but also he knows this is Someone Else's Problem. Also Jester's left him alone for a whole 24 hours? Incredible. 2/10 and that's really just because he's still a little cranky about the disappearance of his blast scepter. As always: never change, king.

Prism Grimpoppy: by my calculations she's discovering that she's actually fucking incredible in combat right now. 0/10, she's doing GREAT.

Pumat Sol and sure, fuck it, Oremid Hass: I suspect the Zadash Wizard Contingent is dealing with some wild unsealed shit from the time of the Julous Dominion and they can't get in touch with anyone in the capital, but it's probably manageable. 4/10. On edge but not too bad.

Ludinus Da'leth: oh did your little plan to unleash the god-eater go a touch sideways? were you unprepared for the possibility of fucking all of magic? did you think it was going to be easy? did level 9 "Fuck Up Airship" and level 8 "Shield Against Werewolf" fail to save your bitch ass? As we've seen, he'll scramble and recover, unfortunately, but it's a well-deserved 9/10 right now. I love to see a plan fall apart.

Trent Ikithon: OH this motherfucker has LOST IT in prison. Like...he was able to put together a pretty elaborate situation, to be clear, but also he's gone bugfuck nuts and does not really improve. I think he's already broken down from the start having clearly been planning this exact scenario from the moment of his imprisonment honestly given that he appears to be going off of the frissons he picked up from Caleb and Essek shortly before he was captured, but regardless: he definitely ends it at a 10/10. Stuck in an egg for eternity, if he's even still a separate entity from Omentis. A well-deserved fate if ever there was one. Get fucked lol.

Veth Brenatto: hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha 10/10 you know she watched Luc leap through the teleportation circle as it closed and has been shrieking loud enough to be heard at the Chateau.

Luc Brenatto: the arrogance and naivete of youth insulate him initially, but Aggy's demise probably spikes it to a solid 6 minimum and it's definitely 9 during the battle. It goes back down pretty quickly though; see Caleb's entry.

Caleb Widogast: he keeps it together pretty well, honestly! Still I have to imagine he's kind of at a 7 or so this entire time with occasional spikes to 9 (NEIN) throughout, and I wouldn't fault him for finishing up the Blumenthal Brunch and then quietly locking himself in a soundproof tower room to scream, cry, and throw up for a while. Indeed, I would encourage it; Caleb should go have a good cry and hug a magic cat for a couple hours until he feels better, and then come back down to find that everyone except the clerics but DEFINITELY including Luc has implemented Spontaneous Apogee Solstice Oktoberfest to celebrate the demise of Trent, the engagement of Fjord and Jester, and the general experience of being alive, and is varying degrees of extremely wasted. This will of course bring him back up to like 7 as he realizes he has to return a hungover teenager to Veth and then goes down to a 4 or so when he realizes the clerics can fix that and Veth will probably be so glad that Luc is alive she'll ignore the rest of it.

Essek Thelyss: Our international drow of mystery looms large in the narrative, but does not make an appearance, which makes this premise extremely funny. I assume he's feeling kind of rough given that the Dynasty wizards are well-attuned to leylines and I would imagine he picks up that Sending isn't working and was broadly aware Caleb was going into danger, so he's certainly stressed, but Trent doesn't actually seem to know Where in Exandria is Essek Thelyss and is merely threatening blackmail. Honestly while we're at it, we don't know where Essek is because I wouldn't put it past Mr. Geometer Owner to have been at a solstice nexus and to have possibly experienced his own Solstice Shunting. In fact I assume Essek is blissfully unaware of these specific goings on re: Trent and is just experiencing The Anxiety for all of the previous reasons. (1d6+3)/10.

Known Gem Wizard Hotsauce Lutefisk: Hmmm. Things becoming unsealed, you say? The uninvited guest list (The Real Gelidon, Isharnai) for The TusktoothStone-Lavorre wedding may have gained an extra entry.