#that that love existed not just within minority communities

[aceredshirt13]

@johnlocked-swiftie

Really? What don’t you like about it? I recall that I went into that story expecting a nightmare based on the title, but given that it turned out to have absolutely nothing to do with unpleasant racism toward Asians, I found it very charming and sweet. It definitely has dated language typical of the 19th century, but it’s just about the politest language that existed at the time (no n-words! a distressingly uncommon blessing! especially since even stories without particularly negative attitudes toward black people often used it!), and it’s a rare story of the period that discusses fear of racist backlash, condemns it as horrible and unfair, and ends with complete acceptance and love.

The Sherlock Holmes stories were absolutely one of the series I was thinking of here in regard to old lit often being both queer and racist, but that sentiment was directed at the very ugly racism present in stories like The Sign of Four, “The Three Gables”, and “Wisteria Lodge”, as well as the casual racism that rears its head in many others (Holmes disguising himself as a “Jew pedlar” in A Study in Scarlet, or the unpleasant generalizations made about Romani people in “The Speckled Band” and Southeast Asians in “The Man With the Twisted Lip”, to name a few). Doyle had a tendency to flip-flop a lot in his takes on societal ills, and said views could not necessarily be seen as a straight line from worse to better (after all, WIST and 3GAB came out after YELL); but as a mixed black and white person myself who was once a little girl like Lucy, I’m very fond of “The Yellow Face”, because it promises an innocent child’s happiness and has its heart in the right place.

the double-edged sword of old British literature is that there’s a solid chance it’ll feel gay but there’s an equally solid chance it’ll also feel racist

[caliburn-the-sword]

other than the entire adultery plotline, the only thing i would retcon in the entire season 1 of ouat is the fairies are cursed to become nuns in storybrooke. WHAT EVEN WAS THAT??? so many characters became their exact opposites, so why was blue the exact same stuffy woman both as a fairy and in storybrooke? in my mind, the fairies became a giant lesbian commune (so essentially what they already were in the enchanted forest) living on the outskirts of town. and because storybrooke shouldn't have any contact with the outside world, the fairies collectively own a farm that sources most of the food for all of storybrooke. when the curse broke they were like hey actually this is pretty good. and kept being a giant lesbian commune.

[sleepyhoon]

✰ pairing. — emo!hs x reader

✰ genre. — early 2000s au, best friend's older brother, childhood friends to lovers, smut, light angst.

✰ word count. — 7k+

✰ warnings. — swearing, family issues, partying, mentions of drinking/drugs, friendship betrayal (?), smut [virginity loss, teasing, fingering, soft dom!hs, "i've waited so long for this" type shit], reader and hs are both 18+, minors dni. very cliche shit. reader doesn’t know much abt sex tbh.

✰ synopsis. — Love notes were slipped into your locker on a daily basis. Variations of messy, boyish handwriting on yellow sticky notes stacked upon themselves by the end of each school day. Every Friday night you were invited out with the promise of, "You'll have fun, just give it a chance."

You could have any guy you wanted, no doubt about it. Yet somehow, the only one you do want is the tattooed, gothic one that lives a few doors down from your best friend.

✰ a/n. revamping this from my bts acc with heeseung this time bc im absolutely obsessed with this couple and need them to exist in every possible universe :P revamping part 2 as we speak and ill post in a few days hehe

✰ perm taglist. @intromortal @aanniikkaa @meetletsinmontauk @lovelyyf @right-person-wrong-time

———

Two monumental events had been etched into your brain for eternity, the first being sneaking out in the middle of the night to meet up with your friends at the community pool. The second is fifteen minutes upon arriving at the pool, seeing your best friend's older brother emerge from the chlorine-scented water as if he were Poseidon and realizing you were utterly infatuated by him.

Lee Chaeryeong isn't blind to this, immediately pulling you away from the crowd to question the longing gaze on your face. "Out of every fucking guy here with us, you're making eyes at my brother? You do know that Heeseung is completely gross, right?" She was so furious, you're surprised no steam was blowing from her ears.

Deny it all you want (and you certainly did within that fifteen-minute interrogation); Heeseung very clearly had a hold on you that lasted many years following that fateful night. He wasn't even your usual type; he wouldn't be caught dead around the guys you're typically drawn to. He had a rebellious side; maybe that's why getting him out of your head was nearly impossible.

Of course, the eternal guilt of falling for your best friend's older, dumbass brother is also difficult to get out of your head.

It can't be helped, really. Anytime you'd visit their home, your eyes would automatically wander through the crack of his doorway as you'd pass by. Whether he was messily cutting his dark hair while blasting Pierce the Veil from his speakers or giving himself a new Stick-and-Poke tattoo as he waited for a CD to finish burning, you long to break away from Chaeryeong for a moment to speak to him. Ask him about his day or if his band had any upcoming gigs. You'd even talk to him about paint drying if it meant you'd get to be in the same space as him.

So it's safe to say you were completely heartbroken when he left for college. Chaeryeong, however, is over the moon. Or so you think.

"… He's your brother, though. You don't think you're gonna miss him at all?" You ask, watching Chaeryeong delicately paint your fingernails a pretty shade of purple.

She shrugs, "I mean… it's definitely gonna be weird not seeing him around the house every day, but he'll still visit sometimes. Maybe."

Deep down, Chaeryeong knows Heeseung won't visit much. He'd been craving freedom and independence from their parents for ages, and moving away for college gave him the perfect opportunity to live as he pleased. They weren't fond of the clothes he wore or the friends he had, and absolutely couldn't bear the music his band makes. They criticized every little thing about him, and he'd finally be getting a break from them.

As you're about to ask Chaeryeong if she's okay, she stands from her bed, screwing the nail polish closed. "I'll be back. I have to let Bam out." Her voice is shaky, and she doesn't look at you as she exits the room.

You take the opportunity to make your way down the hall and to Heeseung's door, which he has conveniently left wide open as he scrolls on his desktop. His knees are pressed against his chest as he's heavily focused on editing his Facebook page. There's a rock song playing lightly from another tab that you can't quite identify; he uses his free hand to gently tap along to the beat of the music.

His room is covered in cardboard boxes, soon to be packed into his parents' minivan and making their way to the University of San Francisco dorms.

Your knuckles tap on his wooden door, your heart fluttering when he turns around, and you realize he's changed the ring on his lip from black to silver.

He nods at you, "What's up?"

"Nothing. I just know you're leaving in the morning, and I wanted to say bye. And wish you good luck, of course." You're not sure why you're so heartbroken. It's not like the two of you were ever a thing. It's not like this would be your last time seeing him. Why were you so upset?

"Cool, thanks." You assume that was his way of indirectly telling you to get out until he reaches into his desk drawer and says, "Catch," before tossing something towards you.

Careful not to mess up your manicure, you easily catch the item, unfolding what appears to be a purple bandanna. "What's this for?" You ask, inspecting the material in your palms.

"To remember me by, duh. Plus, it matches your nails.”

It'd be silly to tell him you genuinely don't need this because there was no way in hell you could ever forget about him. Instead, you clutch the bandana tightly in your fist and make a silent vow to keep it with you at all times; have a piece of him with you at all times.

You thank him and tell him it's nice, but all you can wonder is why he even wants you to remember him in the first place. Maybe you're overthinking. He probably just didn't care for the useless accessory anymore.

When you turn to leave, Heeseung stops you with a gentle call of your name. He turns his head in your direction, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth. "Can I tell you something?"

"Anything." You whisper back, praying you don't sound overly desperate for a more extended interaction with him.

A beat of silence passes, and just as he opens his mouth to respond, Chaeryeong is stomping up the stairs and belting out your name. You gaze away from Heeseung to glance behind you, listening as his sister shouts about doing each other's makeup.

"Never mind, actually. It's not important." Heeseung interrupts, and you physically feel your heart sink to the floor.

You're about to be annoying and pry a response out of him until your eyes dart to his floor, and you see it. What slipped out from his drawer when he tossed the bandana at you.

A condom wrapper. An empty one, at that.

It's embarrassing how quickly your vision becomes glossy, salty tears threatening to release with each passing second. Of course, he's fucking someone. Of course, that person isn't you. Of fucking course.

You shouldn't be surprised; he's probably more into girls with a similar aesthetic. She's probably covered in tattoos and piercings, just like him. She's probably older than you and may even have her own car, unlike you, who still had to catch rides with your parents or older sister.

It's odd, though. You're not entirely naive; you know Heeseung definitely flirts with you here and there, catching his eye when his gaze lingers on you for a second too long. There's a noticeable tension between the two of you that even your parents have teased about. And this whole time, he's been screwing someone else?

Heeseung hangs out with so many girls it'd be useless to even attempt to uncover who this mystery person is. It's none of your business, anyway.

So you leave.

You tell Chaeryeong you'll get grounded if you're home past curfew, and with tear-stained cheeks, you run home.

The following day isn't any easier.

Chaeryeong posted a photo on FaceBook of herself and Heeseung posing together, arms wrapped around each other, with the caption "c u l8r alligator XD". The comments are already flooded with responses wishing Heeseung farewell, some from family members or friends of the siblings.

"Don't 4get abt me!!!!!! >:( "from a girl with red hair catches your eye because it's the only one Heeseung responded to. You can't bring yourself to read his full reply, fingers moving to quickly close the tab after seeing the word 'Never.'

It's probably her, you think to yourself, the one he's sleeping with.

Maybe it's for the best that Heeseung's moving away; it'll give you some time to get over him.

And you most certainly did.

The only time he ever crosses your mind is when Chaeryeong brings him up (which she rarely does) or when you pass by his empty bedroom. Deep down, you know you'll always care for Heeseung on some level, but time away from him was just what you needed. You were too attached to him for no fathomable reason, rejecting any guy interested in you with the premise of being loyal to a guy who didn't even want you. He'd probably been sneaking girls in through his window, with you a few doors down doing magazine quizzes with his sister; blissfully unaware of what was happening down the hall.

You’re better off without him.

That's what you've been telling yourself daily until now. It's the start of summer vacation, and Heeseung's been summoned home to spend it with his family before Chaeryeong (and you) transfer to the University of San Francisco.

Heeseung was hesitant about coming home, as he always is. In constant fear that his parents have some elaborate plan for him to change his major or set him up with someone they deem acceptable, nothing like the girls he hangs around and probably invites back to his dorm.

It took days of convincing until Heeseung finally agreed to come home, under the premise that his parents' intentions were pure and that they simply wanted one last summer together before Chaeryeong moved away for college. They also hoped he'd be able to house-sit and watch over Chaeryeong for a few days as they took their annual anniversary trip to San Diego. That, however, took some bribing and the promise of gas money on their end.

He's not due to arrive until tomorrow morning, and you've convinced yourself there's no reason for you to see him right away. You'd be fine if the next time you saw him was in a few months as you're moving into your dorm. After years of longing, you've finally moved on from him.

Some of you have debated telling Chaeryeong about your past feelings for her brother, but there's no point. It was a one-sided relationship with absolutely zero depth, nothing worth discussing. So when she nudges your side and asks if you're interested in anyone, you reply with a shake of your head.

Chaeryeong has no reaction to this; she can't remember the last time you've been into anyone despite having the entire male population at your school practically throwing themselves at you. "Maybe you'll meet someone tonight."

She's referencing the house party you're going to, which she practically had to drag you out of your room to attend. Parties are different from your scene, especially on a day like today when you were hoping to have a girls' night with Chaeryeong. She had other plans, however.

"Maybe," you respond, sighing as the house you're attending is finally in your viewpoint. "We're not staying long, right? It looks packed."

Cars are parked throughout the street, one house, in particular, being the center of attention with loud music and drunk people decorating the front yard of a suburban-looking home. Chaeryeong looks as ecstatic as ever, looping her arm in yours and picking up her pace. She doesn't respond. It doesn't matter. Her response would've disregarded your concern.

One car catches your eye as you enter the unfamiliar house; it's parked towards the end of the street, and you swear you've been in it before. You're not able to dwell on it for too long, though, because Chaeryeong has to practically yank you through the front door.

Your nerves are at an all-time high. The music is entirely too loud, and there isn't a single sober person in sight. You're not sure how Chaeryeong even found out about this party, but you really wish she would've left you out of it. You'd go now if it were acceptable, but Chaeryeong would've stayed regardless, and you refuse to leave her alone. So, you push your feelings to the side and take her hand as she leads you towards the kitchen.

"Thirsty?" Chaeryeong questions, forcing a red solo cup into your hand.

"Not at all," you respond, sighing as Chaeryeong pours something into your cup.

"It's just ginger ale," she reassures you, "I don't think either of us should get drunk here." For once, she's being reasonable.

Chaeryeong suggests you do a lap around the house in hopes of running into people you may have gone to school with. And to your surprise, a decent amount of your past classmates have decided to attend. You feel more at ease with them around, a bit more comfortable now that you're around recognizable people. Although you initially hesitated to show up, you're glad you did.

"Anybody catch your eye yet? Or are you still breaking hearts?" Your old classmate, Yeoreum, questions.

You shake your head, about to explain that you're not interested in dating right now, until she gestures behind you. "That guy is pretty cute."

You shift on the couch, looking around until you spot who Yeoreum had been gesturing towards. You locate him finally, and she's right; he is cute. He just seems so familiar.

That's when it hits you.

"Oh my God," you whisper, eyes locked on him, and you slowly rise from the couch.

It's Heeseung. And the car you recognized was his. He's here. What is he doing here? He isn't due to be back until tomorrow morning.

You almost don't realize it's him until you spot the mole under his lip. He's grown his hair out and stopped dyeing it, the slew of tattoos that decorated his arm (God, did he start working out, too?) nicely connected, now creating a sleeve, and he's given himself an eyebrow piercing. Your feelings for him come rushing back in full force.

Panicked, you reach for Chaeryeong's hand, but she's nowhere to be found. Careful not to be seen by her brother, you bow your head slightly, passing through a crowd of sweaty bodies until you finally spot her kitty heels. She's leaned against a wall, swirling around her cup while flirting with some guy you'd seen around school a few times.

Creating some much-needed distance between the two, you tug Chaeryeong towards you. "I think I just saw your brother."

"What? No, he won't even be in the city until tomorrow morning."

Frustrated, you quickly search the crowd until your eyes land on him again. You ignore the fact that he's now speaking to some girl with red hair and tattoos scattered across her arm and point in their direction, "Well, then that guy looks just like him."

Chaeryeong squints her eyes in disbelief at the boy in question until the doubt becomes confusion, and the confusion becomes realization. "Oh my God! The fuck is he doing here?" She turns towards you as if you're supposed to have the answer.

"The fuck should I know? You said he wouldn't be here until tomorrow morning!"

"Because that's what he told our parents! How was I supposed to know he was gonna be here? I never would've come if I knew!"

"What are you guys doing here?" A voice you haven't heard in so long interrupts. You don't even want to turn around.

"What are you doing here?" Chaeryeong throws back, and the two stare at each other in angry silence for a moment until Heeseung steps to the side. "Upstairs," he says, nodding towards the staircase.

"But—"

"Go."

Chaeryeong's clearly aggravated but makes her way towards the stairs. You remain in place with your arms crossed, raising a brow in confusion when Heeseung looks at you. "What?"

"You too."

"I'm not—"

"I'm not asking again," he says simply. You convince yourself that you only take his command because you don't feel like fighting. Definitely not because it's interesting to have him boss you around.

Trudging up the stairs behind Chaeryeong, you wait with her in the hallway until Heeseung arrives. "Come on," he says, entering a bathroom and turning the light on. Neither you nor Chaeryeong protest; there really isn't any point.

As soon as the door is shut, Chaeryeong is yelling at the top of her lungs. "What the fuck are you doing here?! You said you wouldn't be back until tomorrow morning! Mom and Dad had to push their trip back just to give you more time to arrive, and you're already fucking here?! The fuck is the matter with you?!"

"I'm not gonna respond if you're gonna be yelling like this." Heeseung says calmly, leaning against the sink, "Let me get my questions out first, then I'll answer any of yours, deal?"

Chaeryeong glances over at you, sitting on the bathtub's edge, and you nod. She returns her attention back to Heeseung, takes a deep breath, then agrees.

"Now, what are you guys doing here?! How'd you even get invited?! And you're drinking?!" The calm demeanor from earlier slips away in a matter of seconds, clearly a hoax just to get Chaeryeong to calm down enough to let him speak.

"It's just ginger ale, and we've barely even had any! We were invited by our friends, okay? We have just as much right to be here as you do."

Heeseung scoffs, clearly unamused. "Right, and I'm assuming Mom and Dad know you're here then, huh?"

Chaeryeong nervously tucks a hair behind her ear. You wonder why you even have to be in here with them. It's not like Heeseung is your brother, anyway.

"We told our parents that we were going to a birthday party at a friend's house." Chaeryeong mumbles, barely able to look Heeseung in the eye.

"And what did they say when they dropped you guys off?"

"They didn't drop us off," you interrupt, "we walked here."

"Well, I wasn't gonna tell him that." Chaeryeong glares at you, it takes every bone in your body to not to laugh at her.

You're so over this. You didn't want to attend this dumb party in the first place, and seeing Heeseung flirting with some girl who could've been his female counterpart was the icing on the cake. It doesn't matter if your feelings for him were gone before tonight; every little emotion you'd felt for him over the years had returned (as if they ever left).

"And how exactly did you two geniuses plan on getting home?"

"Same way we got here."

"Can you please just let me handle this? Jesus Christ…" Chaeryeong shoots another frustrated glare at you, and you can't help but roll your eyes at her. She turns back towards her brother, "Can you answer my questions now?"

Heeseung's eyes anxiously dart around the cramped bathroom, landing on you a few times before he's slowly nodding his head. "Alright, Mom and Dad basically forced me to spend the whole summer here, and I kept asking myself why they were so persistent about it. They finally told me they needed me to watch over you and the house for their stupid trip. I had plans too, you know? That I had to derail for them. My band could've spent this summer touring, making real money, and now we can't. So, they wanna inconvenience me? I'll inconvenience them right back."

"…Inconvenience them by doing what?" Chaeryeong asks the exact question you had.

Heeseung shrugs, "By telling them I'm gonna be arriving a day late, duh."

You and Chaeryeong exchange an awkward glance at one other before silently agreeing not to tease him about it. If this was his badass way of retaliating, who were you to rain on his parade?

"Are you gonna tell anyone you saw us here?" Chaeryeong questions, a noticible tremble in her voice.

"As long as you guys don't tell anyone you saw me."

It's a fair trade, you accept it. You're even more delighted when Heeseung says he's taking the two of you home. Chaeryeong, however, isn't too happy about this, claiming there were so many people she didn't get to speak to, and how'd this be the last time she'd get to see them before moving away for school. You're not sure if Chaeryeong is really good at getting what she wants, or if Heeseung was tired of hearing her complain, but he finally gives in and grants her ten more minutes to socialize before meeting him at his car.

"If you're not at my car in ten minutes, I swear to God I'm calling mom." Heeseung scolds, holding the bathroom door open as the three of you finally exit.

A loud, drunk voice suddenly shouts, "Woah, Heeseung! Two girls at the same time!? You fucking beast!"

"They're my sisters, you fucking pervert!" He shouts back.

You can't even dwell on how disgusting the original comment was, only being able to focus on the fact that Heeseung just referred to you as his sister. As conceited as it may sound, you're not used to rejection or guys putting you in the friend-zone. Whatever little game Heeseung had been playing with you over the years was completely new territory. And right when you think things couldn't possibly get any worse, he calls you his sister.

What the actual fuck.

—

The next ten minutes go by in a blur; Chaeryeong has ditched you for a second time that night to talk to the guy from earlier. When it's finally time to leave, you find her Sat on his lap with her arm hung across his shoulder, laughing at an unfunny pickup line he'd used on her.

"It's time, Chaeryeong," you interrupt, helping her stand.

"Wait, wait, wait," she persists, directing her attention back to the boy, "tomorrow at five, right?"

"And not a second later." He sends her a disgusting wink that makes your skin crawl.

Chaeryeong is so love-struck you're surprised there isn't an arrow lodged in her back. She can barely form a proper sentence, erupting into a fit of giggles every few seconds as you make your way to Heeseung's car. "Wasn't he just gorgeous?"

You shrug, linking arms with her. "He was alright."

Stunned, Chaeryeong gasps at you, "Just alright? He was literally like a Greek God."

"I'm not saying he's unattractive; he's just...not really my type."

"And what is your type, Miss. Never-Has-Been-Interested-In-Anyone?"

Now, there's the question of the hour. You have to word your response very carefully; don't be too obvious about the fact that your ideal type is her older sibling.

"I guess I prefer guys with an edgier look to them, you know? Tattoos, piercings..." Despite your attempt to sound as nonchalant as possible, your heart is beating out of your chest from the mild confession.

Chaeryeong snickers, then playfully groans. "It sounds like you're describing my brother."

Now, you really have to test the waters.

"Since you brought him up, would it be so bad if I did like Heeseung? Hypothetically speaking, of course." You're not sure what prompts you to even ask this. It's not like he's even interested in you; he literally just referred to you as his sister.

A beat of silence passes as Chaeryeong gathers her thoughts, then she says, "No."

"What?"

You've finally reached Heeseung's car at this point, beating him there. You sit atop the trunk, feet hovering above the ground as the cold, nighttime air swirls around you. Chaeryeong shakes her head, "Obviously, it wouldn't be the ideal situation, but I guess I wouldn't mind as long as you talked to me about it first."

"First?" You mimic.

"Like...assuming you'd wanna date him or something. Just so I'm not blindsided, you know?"

This is the last thing you would've expected your impulsive, hotheaded (yet oh-so-loveable) best friend to be reasonable about. Mainly because she lectured you for nearly twenty minutes when she first suspected you had a crush on Heeseung.

You go to respond, but Heeseung, finally arriving at the car, captivates both of your attention. He finishes off his can of Pepsi before crushing the aluminum and tossing it to the ground. "Ready?" He questions.

There's no point in giving him a speech about littering; you're just ready to go home.

He fishes his keys from his pocket and unlocks the car door; Chaeryeong opens the backseat and jumps in before you have the chance, sprawling across the aged leather. "Move over," you nudge her foot with your knee; she pulls away from you.

Heeseung calls your name, "Just sit up front. She's not gonna move."

Now, this is new. You've ridden in the backseat of his car with Chaeryeong more times than you can count; he'd never allow either of you to sit shotgun with him; typical annoying older brother bullshit.

Don't make a big deal out of this, you say to yourself, climbing into the passenger seat of his car.

Chaeryeong and Heeseung bicker the entire ride to their parent's house, partially out of annoyance with each other, but you also get the feeling that neither of them were genuinely ready to leave the party. You're surprised Heeseung even enjoyed parties; he spent most of high school either working, hanging out at skate parks, or practicing with his band in their garage. College must've really changed him, and you're unsure how to feel about it.

Heeseung parks a few houses down from their parent's house and unlocks the doors, "Get out," he says into the backseat.

"Where are you gonna spend the night?" Chaeryeong questions, stretching her arms outward.

"I checked into a motel this morning. I'll be back here tomorrow around noon. And, hey," Heeseung turns around, pointing a finger at his sister. "Don't tell them you saw me."

Mockingly, Chaeryeong points a finger right back at him. "Telling them I saw you would be exposing myself, cock-sucker. Leave me alone." She angrily begins to climb out of the car, annoyed at how little trust Heeseung had in her.

You turn to go, but Heeseung's cold hand on your bicep stops you, "Where you goin'?"

"I'm gonna walk home from here. It's only a few minutes away," you respond.

Heeseung shakes his head, "I'm dropping you off. You haven't moved since I left, right?"

"No, but it's fi—"

"Then your house is on the way to my motel. We're going in the same direction; might as well ride together."

It truly does make more sense to ride together, and rejecting his offer any further surely would raise suspicions. You don't want either of them to believe you'd feel uncomfortable being alone with Heeseung because that couldn't be farther from the truth. You're perplexed about your feelings now, and you don't want to do anything you'd regret just because of the confusion.

"Okay, then." You glance over your shoulder at Chaeryeong, "Will you need any help getting ready for your date tomorrow?"

Suddenly embarrassed, Chaeryeong shushes you, gesturing that Heeseung is literally right next to you and would prefer that he didn't hear about her dating life. Heeseung genuinely couldn't care less and is instead patiently waiting for his sister to get out.

She does finally, and Heeseung resumes his path to your house. He turns the radio on, switching between stations until he stops on one that's playing a song he's familiar with. You drive silently for a few minutes; the only sounds being heard are the distant noises from the car's motor and Heeseung humming along to the radio.

He breaks the silence by saying, "I was surprised to see you back there. You never really seemed like the type to enjoy parties."

You chuckle, "I could say the same for you; I don't remember you attending any in high school."

"That's 'cause house parties weren't my thing," he explains, "I went to raves or parties that would happen at the skate park. I don't really like being at someone else's house for too long; it feels too intimate."

Now that you think of it, skate park parties and raves seem much more like his scene.

"Well, I only went because Chaeryeong was going, and I didn't feel comfortable with her being there alone. Otherwise, I never would've gone." You admit, resting your head against the window.

"Thanks for looking after her, by the way. You're a good friend."

"I'd do anything for her." Your voice is barely a whisper now, getting quieter with every word you say.

Silence passes, and he says, "Did you know your guys' dorm room is gonna be right under ours?"

"Seriously?" You respond, genuinely curious.

"Mmm-hmm. My roommate, Sunghoon, and I are gonna be the worst upstairs neighbors ever." He teases as you roll your eyes. Your mind can't decipher whether this banter is playful & platonic or romantic. Everything Heeseung does confuses you.

"If that's the case, I'll be sure to move to an entirely new building."

"What, so you can have your boyfriend protect you?"

Pause. Boyfriend?

You nearly give yourself whiplash from how hard you spun around to look at Heeseung. "Boyfriend?" You ask.

He shrugs nonchalantly, keeping his eyes on the road. "I just assumed you'd have one by now. Do you?"

There he is again with his mind games. What the fuck was he talking about?

After letting out a very frustrated sigh, you mumble, "No, Heeseung, I do not have a boyfriend."

"Good. Focus on school."

Now he's pissing you off. You wish he'd shut up for the rest of the car ride. "It's nice to see you again, by the way."

Holy shit, you feel like jumping out the window.

"Yeah, great seeing you too. Oh, there's my house. I can walk from here." You make quick work of undoing your seatbelt.

"You sure? I can drop you off at the door."

"No, no. It's best if my parents don't see you so they don't accidentally tell your parents that they saw you." You lie, racking your brain for any excuse imaginable.

He nods, deciding it's best to drop you off a little further from your house. "Then, I'll see you tomorrow?"

"What?" You stop dead in your tracks, one hand clutching the door handle.

"Aren't you coming over tomorrow to help Chaeryeong get ready for her…thing? I'll be back home by then."

He's right; you'd be back in his house, and he'll be there this time. It's no big deal. You'd only be there for an hour (at most) to help her prepare, and then you could go the whole summer without seeing him again.

"Yeah, I'll see you then."

The following day, Chaeryeong is back to her unreasonable self, expecting you to wait at her house for her to return from her date.

"Please? We're just going to get pizza; we won't even be gone that long." She pleads, adding the finishing touches to her makeup.

You'd already spent over an hour helping her prepare, and now she expects you to do nothing but await her return. You know her heart's in the right place; she just wants to be the first to hear all the exhilarating details about her date. Still, a phone call would suffice.

"What am I supposed to do while I wait for you to come back?" You whine.

"Just hang out here! Watch a movie or something!" She suggests, trying her absolutely hardest to sound enthusiastic. Her phone buzzes in her hand before she has the chance to continue, eyes lighting up as they flicker across the bright screen.

Chaeryeong clutches her phone, locks eyes with you, then rushes towards the door. You're faster, though, quickly capturing her wrist before she's barely reached the hallway. "I'm going home."

"No! If you stay here, I'll bring you back pizza, and we can have a girls' night like we were supposed to yesterday! Come on, please?" She begs, pouting her lips.

You go to reply, but the bathroom door swings open, and Heeseung strides out. Just to your luck, he's shirtless; water droplets descend from his hair as he towel-dries it. As he enters his bedroom, he mocks his sister's high-pitched whine, earning a lethal glare and a slew of swears thrown at him.

Perhaps you should stay.

"Fine, but you're lending me your pajamas." You give in, earning an enthusiastic shriek from your best friend.

Chaeryeong wraps you in a brief, yet tight, hug before shouting, "Be back soon!" Then she's rushing down the stairs and out the front door. It's not often that Chaeryeong makes you wait for her return, but you absolutely despise it whenever it does occur. She's never back by the time she promises and gets upset when you try to call and check up on her.

And speaking of calling, you're sure your phone is dead by now. You insisted Chaeryeong bring her's along just in case, so you're left with one option.

Heeseung's door is wide open (as usual) when you go to knock. He's fully clothed now, pairing his black sweatpants with a matching black t-shirt. His hair appears mostly dry now, chaotic as ever, but dry. You don't think he's ever looked this good before.

He's sat on his bed, flipping through the latest copy of Rolling Stone when you arrive. He glances over at you and lets out a dry chuckle.

"What's so funny?" You ask.

"You're dressed like Bella Swan." He responds casually, eyes raking up and down your body.

"Who?"

"From Twilight. You know, that new movie that came out?" He seems genuinely surprised that you don't seem to know anything about this movie, not even the name of (who you suspect to be) the main character.

You lean against the doorframe, "Haven't seen it."

"It's a great movie, seriously. Some friends and I are seeing it in a few days if you and Chaeryeong wanna come." He suggests, flipping another page in the magazine.

You let him know you'll ask Chaeryeong if she's interested before remembering why you came to his room in the first place and ask if you can borrow his phone charger. Heeseung directs you to where it's plugged up by his desk, and you finally have the chance to stroll further into his room. You can't recall the last time you've been in here, but you know it looks much different than before. Many of the band posters that decorated the room were gone, his random trinkets and piles of clothes were gone, and not a single piece of his CD collection was in sight. It felt so lifeless, so unlike him. No wonder he always dreaded returning home; it probably didn't even feel like home to him.

"So," you say, attempting to break the silence, "you're here for the whole summer, huh?"

"Unfortunately." He mumbles, "Gonna try and go by sooner, convince my parents I have to sort out an issue with my dorm or something."

"It's nice to have you back, though." You admit, watching as Heeseung's gaze locks on yours.

"Yeah? It is?" He questions.

You shrug, "Of course. We practically grew up together; it was weird to not see you all the time."

He sits up now, closing the magazine and tossing it on his nightstand. There's something on his mind that he isn't saying; you can tell from the way his brows knit together and how he's anxiously tugging on his lip piercing. "It was weird to be gone," he mumbles and leaves it at that.

"By the way, I'm sorry about last night." He apologizes.

"For what? Calling me your sister?"

He laughs at this, shaking his head. "I didn't mean to do that on purpose, by the way. That guy was just...so weird, I kinda blurted out the first thing that would've made him feel weird for even thinking that."

Oh. That makes sense. You definitely overreacted.

"I meant," he continues, "I'm sorry if the whole boyfriend assumption thing upset you."

"Oh," you dismissively wave a hand at him, "that was nothing."

Heeseung raises a brow at you, "Are you sure? 'Cause you seemed pretty upset afterward, you were practically running out of my car."

There's no point in lying now, considering you weren't even the slightest bit discrete the previous night.

"If I'm being completely honest, I just felt a little awkward. But that's it, I swear." You assure him, moving to lean against the bedside table.

"Awkward about what?"

God, this was so embarrassing. Is he really going to make you humiliate yourself like this?

"Because I've never actually had a boyfriend before."

Heeseung looks genuinely shocked at your confession, eyes nearly bulging out of his head as he examines yours for any sign of deception. "You don't believe me?"

"I'm not sure. I only assumed you had one just based on how crazy guys were about you in high school. Not to mention you're, like, fucking gorgeous."

What?

"I'm what?" You ask, not entirely sure if you heard him correctly.

He repeats himself again, and you make him do it a few more times until he's too embarrassed to say it again. You somehow manage to get back on the topic of never having a boyfriend before when Heeseung asks you another question. "Have you ever...?"

He doesn't need to finish the sentence. You know what he's asking.

You shake your head.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked. It's none of my business." He berates himself, and you assure him it's no big deal and that it shouldn't even be a shocker to him.

After a half hour of talking about whatever comes to mind, you wind up sitting opposite Heeseung on his bed, legs perched up underneath your body as you go back and forth, questioning one another.

"So, when are you gonna admit you had a crush on me?" His voice is barely a whisper.

"I never did." You lie.

"Really? That sucks?"

"Why?"

He shrugs, leaning his back against the headboard. "I just always thought that maybe you and I would've ended up together at some point."

You don't remember who leans in first; it doesn't matter; all that matters is after years of longing, your lips are finally intertwined with his. He must've smoked today; you can taste the nicotine on his breath. But it doesn't matter; you don't make the slightest move to pull away. Neither does he, placing his hands on the small of your back to guide you onto his lap.

Your body is moving on autopilot, limbs moving to do whatever feels right as you silently pray not to ruin the moment. Heeseung can spot your nervousness from a mile away and stop you, "We don't have to do—"

"I want to," you pant, breathless, "I've wanted this for so long."

"Do you trust me?" He asks.

"More than anything."

He kisses you again before adjusting your current position, slowly twisting yourselves until you're lying flat on your back. He moves his lips down towards your neck, leaving a trail of kisses in his path as he settles between your legs.

You reach up to grab a handful of his hair, nearly jumping out of your skin as his delicate fingertips creep up your inner thigh, inching closer and closer until his ghosting over your clothed pussy. "This okay?" He mumbles.

You nod, unable to form a coherent sentence. "Cute," he replies, "you're already so wet." His fingertips stroke your clit through your damp underwear; you don't think to wonder how he managed to get to it so quickly, all thoughts leaving your brain as he makes small circles using his middle and index finger.

"Heeseung…" You moan, pleading for him to do more.

"I know." He assures you, using a single finger to pull your panties to the side, making just enough room for him to slide a finger into your aching cunt. "Am I really your first time?"

You nod again out of fear that a moan would slip from your lips if you even tried to speak. His eyes are locked on yours, studying your expression as he coaxes a finger inside you. You're embarrassed at how quickly your wetness coated his finger, but Heeseung doesn't care. He likes it, makes him feel fucking amazing knowing the effect he had on you.

"Take your shirt off." He says, and you do as told, pulling your top up and off your body and tossing it to the floor; making quick work of undoing your bra before he even has the chance to ask.

His lips are back on your neck instantly, trailing down to your collarbone until he reaches the curve on your breast. He halts his actions momentarily before your pitched nipple is caught between his teeth and your back arching off the bed from how overstimulating everything feels.

You curse under your breath, and Heeseung makes another comment about how cute you are, though you feel far from it. He apologizes by lapping his tongue around your nipple, easing the pain slowly as he inserts a second finger into your cunt.

You can feel his bulge against your thigh, though he doesn't even care about getting himself off. He moves over to your nipple, licking and sucking until it's completely hardened, leaving himself breathless. The two fingers that had been working your cunt had picked up the pace now, and there was an unfamiliar feeling in your gut that you couldn't identify.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…" You groan, legs trembling.

Heeseung is all too familiar with these actions and asks, "You're already close? I've barely done anything to you." He teases, chuckling to himself.

You know he's being lighthearted, but you can't help but feel embarrassed at the tears forming in your eyes from how good everything feels.

Suddenly, he's pulling his fingers out of you, and now you feel like crying for a different reason. You go to protest but stop to watch as he takes his shirt off. If you weren't sure then, it's obvious now he'd started attending the gym.

He makes quick work of tugging his sweatpants down his legs, tossing them into the abyss before reaching into his bedside table and retrieving a condom. "You're okay?"

You nod.

"Use your words."

“I’m okay, Heeseung.”

"You're still okay with this?"

"Yes."

"You sure?"

Jesus fucking Christ, the saint this man is.

"I'm positive." You assure him.

You move to pull down your skirt and underwear, but Heeseung catches your wrist. "Leave them on," he says. There are so many things going on that you choose not to question.

He pulls off his boxers in the meantime, hardened cock slapping against his abdomen with precum leaking from the tip. Though you had nothing to compare it to, Heeseung was obviously slightly larger than average. You shouldn't be surprised; it's always the guys that you'd least expect.

He tears the condom wrapper with his teeth, retrieving the rubber inside before tossing the remains to his floor. Despite being fully erect, he fists his cock a few times before sliding the condom on.

He crawls over you, left arm at the side of his head, while he uses his dick to nudge your panties to the side. "This still okay?"

"I already told you—fuck!" He cuts you off, the tip of his cock slowly making its way inside you. You feel so stretched out from this alone you don't know how you'd manage to fit all of him into you.

Heeseung must be feeling the same, swearing under his breath and commenting about how tight you feel around him. Second by second, he coaxes himself into your pussy until you feel like you could split right open. "Are you all the way in?"

"No, can't take anymore?" He asks, leaning his head down against your ear.

You're embarrassed to admit he's too big to handle on your first time, but it's the truth. You don't want to overextend yourself just to please him and end up hurting yourself.

"You can move, just…not too much. Please."

Heeseung nods, "Whatever you want, angel."

He pulls his hips back and rocks himself back in, being sure to ask if you're okay with his pace. Once you confirm you feel fine and want him to keep going, he continues his movements; his eager hips snapping against yours and his cock hitting your G-spot with each deep stroke. You feel like you're on cloud nine, hands tangled in his hair as he swallows your moans.

That unfamiliar feeling from earlier returns; you feel it through your entire body this time. A moan of his name escaping your lips lets him know you're close. How he can always sense these things is beyond you; it's not worth overthinking.

"Close?" He asks, and you nod frantically.

Heeseung picks up his speed slightly, careful not to overwhelm you, but just enough to reach your climax, until finally, the bundle of nerves in your abdomen snaps, and your back is arching off the mattress as you come around his cock.

He's only a few seconds behind with his orgasm, erupting in a loud grunt when he finally reaches it. The two of you lay in silence for a moment before Heeseung finally pulls out of you and slides the condom off, tying it in a knot and tossing it into his trash bin.

"Are you okay?" He asks for what feels like the millionth time.

"I'm fine." You respond, and it isn't a lie. Physically, you feel terrific; mentally, it was an entirely different story. "Are you?"

"I'm good, I'm good."

As much as you would love to lay naked with Heeseung in his bed for the rest of the night, you know Chaeryeong will be home anytime soon. "I think I'm gonna go wash up."

He nods, crawling under his covers once you stand from his bed, tugging your skirt to its proper length as you search for your remaining clothing. "Oh, it's um…your shirt, it's over there." Heeseung awkwardly gestures towards a pile of clothing by the end of his bed.

Almost as quickly as you shred yourself of them, you snatch your clothing and bundle them up against your chest.

"Listen, I know right now isn't really ideal, but I meant what I said about liking you, and really think we should talk." He says nervously, barely even able to look at you.

You almost want to laugh at how cute he is; instead, you agree to talk to him about it soon. You're about to head out into the hallway when Heeseung reminds you about your charging phone over by his desk.

You retrieve it and scan the area again, ensuring you haven't left anything else behind. When everything seems clear, you stand upright, but your eyes fall toward the trash bin near his window with the discarded condom. You're embarrassed to even look at it until you realize something seems off. It looks…empty.

Now, you're no sex expert, but imagine that if Heeseung had finished, there'd be something to show for it in the condom. Right?

Did he fake his orgasm? Was this another one of his fucked up mind games you'd been subjected to?

You don't know what to think as you step into the bathroom; your emotions are all over the place, and all you really want to do is go home. But you promised Chaeryeong you'd be here when she returns, so you stay.

The next time a Lee sibling asks if you're okay is twenty minutes later when Chaeryeong finally arrives and asks why your eyes are so watery.

"I'm fine." You respond, and you're lying for the first time that night.

[oceandolores]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 | series

Dbf! Joel Miller x female reader

"𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘐 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘬����𝘦𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘥, 𝘯𝘰 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘦."

summary: In the small town near Austin, Texas, you are trapped in a life of rigid expectations and silent suffering. As the preacher's daughter, you endure the mental and physical abuse of your father while your mother, bound by obedience, offers quiet love. Your longing for a father's warmth finds an unexpected solace in Joel Miller, your father's best friend and neighbor. In Joel's presence, you discover a forbidden sanctuary, where your yearning heart is met with a gentle strength you've never known.

warnings: 18+ only, Minors DNI, AU, No outbreak. (TW) mentions of substance abuse/alcohol use disorder, adult content, religion abuse, violence, blood gore, mentions of death, sexual abuse, sexual content, domestic violences, ped0ph!l1a, cann1bal!sm, human traff1ck1ng, dad's best friend!Joel, HUGE age gap (i will not specify her exact age, but she's legal and Joel is 49), daddy issues, mentions of toxic family dynamic, Joel is widowed, Ellie is 16, angst, smut A LOT, forbidden relationship, soft and protective Joel, innocent and pure reader. your last name is Gibson. any other details will be explain throughout the story. inspired by the album Preacher's daughter by Ethel Cain and also mix with lana del rey vibes.

CHAPTER 1

masterlist of the series!

next | chapter 2

The Texas sun had a way of casting long, dramatic shadows across the sprawling landscape, painting the world in hues of gold and amber. In small town near Austin, the heat clung to everything, wrapping the town in a sweltering embrace that seemed to slow time itself. You, a preacher's daughter on the cusp of graduation, trapped in the rigid confines of a life dictated by faith and fear.

Your father, Reverend Gibson, was a towering figure in the community, his voice booming from the pulpit every Sunday, filling the church with sermons about sin and salvation. To the congregation, he was a man of God, a beacon of righteousness. But within the walls of your home, he was a tyrant. His heavy hand and harsh words left marks not just on your skin, but deep within your soul. Your mother, ever the obedient wife, offered what little comfort she could, but her love was a quiet, subdued thing, overshadowed by her fear of defying your father.

The Millers lived just a few houses down, their home a testament to both prosperity and tragedy. Joel Miller was your father’s best friend from high school, a bond forged in the fires of youth but strained by the paths they had chosen. While your father found his calling in the church, Joel built a successful construction business with his younger brother, Tommy.

Joel and Tommy not live far from each other, while your house is just one house away from Joel, Tommy is a few houses down from Joel's.

The Miller brothers were well-known and respected in the community, their work evident in the many buildings that dotted the town.

Joel’s life had been forever altered by a single, devastating moment. He had lost his wife and daughter in a car accident, an accident where he had been behind the wheel. The guilt of their deaths weighed heavily on him, a burden he carried in the lines of his face and the shadows in his eyes.

Since that tragic day, he had distanced himself from the church, finding solace instead in his work and in raising his adopted daughter, Ellie. Joel has adopted Ellie when she was only 10 years old with the help of Tommy.

At 16, Ellie was a spirited girl, one of your juniors at school. She attended church every Sunday with her uncle Tommy, her presence a reminder of the Millers’ lingering faith.

Tommy, married to Maria, had recently welcomed a baby boy into their family. The joy of new life was a stark contrast to the sorrow that had marked Joel’s existence. The Millers were a close-knit family, their bonds of loyalty and love a stark contrast to the fractured and tense environment of your own home.

You had known the Millers your entire life, their presence a constant thread in the fabric of your existence. Yet, as you stood on the brink of adulthood, your interactions with them took on a new significance. Your father’s sermons about the dangers of straying from the path of righteousness echoed in your mind, but so did your longing for something more, something real and tangible.

It was just another Sunday, and you were helping your dad with the after-service fellowship. The congregation mingled in the church hall, sharing coffee and pastries, their voices a low hum of conversation and laughter. You moved through the crowd with a tray of refreshments, offering smiles and polite nods, your mind elsewhere.

The Sunday service had been like any other, filled with hymns, prayers, and your father’s booming voice delivering his sermon. Today, he had spoken about temptation and the perils of straying from God’s path, his words heavy with the weight of his own fervent belief. As always, you felt the eyes of the congregation on you, the preacher’s daughter, the living example of his teachings.

You couldn’t help but glance towards the back of the room, where Tommy and Ellie stood, their presence a rare but welcome sight. Joel, as expected, was absent, his appearances in church growing increasingly sporadic since the accident.

Your thoughts kept drifting to Joel Miller. It had been years since the tragedy that had claimed his wife and daughter, leaving an indelible mark on him, transforming a once regular churchgoer into a haunted, reclusive figure.

You didn't really know or remember Joel's wife and daughter. Sarah Miller had been much older than you, and she passed away when you were only five. The memories you had of them were hazy at best, a blur of faces and voices that you couldn’t quite place.

Ellie caught your eye and waved, her smile bright and genuine. You waved back, feeling a pang of longing for the carefree spirit she embodied. She was one of the few people in your life who treated you like a normal person, not just the preacher’s daughter.

After the service, as the crowd began to thin, you found yourself gravitating towards Tommy and Ellie. Tommy, ever the warm and approachable figure, greeted you with a smile. “Hey, kiddo. How’ve you been?”

You returned his smile, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly. “I’m good, Tommy. How’s Maria and the baby?”

Tommy’s face lit up with pride. “They’re great. Little Luke’s growing like a weed. Maria’s over the moon, of course.”

Ellie nudged you playfully. “You should come over and meet him sometime. He’s the cutest.”

You laughed softly. “I’d love that.”

Tommy’s expression grew more serious as he glanced around the room. “How’s your dad doing with all the church activities? Keeping busy?”

You nodded, forcing a smile. “Yeah, he’s always got something going on. Keeps him out of trouble, I guess.”

Tommy chuckled. “Good to hear. Your family always looks so put together. It’s impressive, really.”

You shrugged, trying to brush off the compliment. “We just try to do our best.”

As you continued chatting, the weight on your shoulders seemed to lighten, if only for a moment. Ellie shared stories about school, her infectious laughter bringing a smile to your face.

“So, any plans after graduation?” Ellie asked, her eyes twinkling with curiosity.

You hesitated, the uncertainty of your future looming large. “I’m not sure yet. I’ve been thinking about college, but it’s complicated.”

Tommy’s expression grew serious again. “You should follow your dreams, kid. Don’t let anything hold you back.”

You nodded, grateful for their support. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks, Tommy.”

As you chatted with Tommy and Ellie, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. Glancing around, you caught your father’s stern gaze from across the room. His eyes were a silent warning, a reminder of your place and the expectations that came with it.

Excusing yourself, you slipped out of the church hall, needing a moment of solitude. Your dad won't notice you are gone a little, your job has been taken by your mom.

The Texas heat hit you as soon as you stepped outside, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the gravel parking lot. You decided to walk, the streets feeling empty because everyone was still in church. As you walked aimlessly, your mind whirled with conflicting thoughts and emotions.

You found yourself drawn towards the lake behind the church and the town, a place far enough to avoid everyone. The lake and the surrounding forest were comforting, a sanctuary from the oppressive atmosphere of your home.

Looking around to ensure you were alone, you carefully pulled out your cigarettes and lit one, taking a long drag. Your parents never knew you were quite a smoker, especially your father. If he ever found out, the repercussions would be severe, his wrath swift and unrelenting. The thought of his anger made you shudder.

You decided to sit by the old fallen tree near the lake. It was very quiet, the only sounds were the rustling of leaves and the gentle lapping of water against the shore. You loved to come here every chance you got, a hidden escape from the prying eyes and harsh judgments of your daily life. As you exhaled a cloud of smoke, you heard a rustling sound in the underbrush.

Startled, you quickly put out your cigarette and looked up. Emerging from the trees was Joel, a hunting rifle slung over his shoulder. Your heart pounded in your chest as you met his gaze. "Joel?" you stammered, hoping he hadn’t noticed the cigarette.

He looked at you, then at the still-smoking cigarette butt near your feet. His expression was unreadable, but you felt a wave of fear. What if he told your father?

Joel approached, his steps slow and deliberate. "Didn’t expect to see you out here," he said, his voice as gruff as ever.

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your voice steady. "I… I just needed some air."

Joel’s eyes flicked to the cigarette again. "That why you’re hiding out here? To smoke?"

You bit your lip, the truth hanging heavily between you. "Please don’t tell my dad," you whispered, the desperation clear in your voice.

Joel sighed, his expression softening slightly. "Your secret’s safe with me," he said finally, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Relief flooded through you, and you nodded gratefully. "Thank you,"

As you stood up, brushing off the dirt and bits of wood that had stained your dress, you noticed Joel's gaze lingering on the rifle in his hand and the heavy boots caked with mud.

"You didn’t come to church today," you said, your curiosity overcoming your apprehension. You had noticed his absence with the frequency that had become almost routine over the years.

He glanced at you, the stern lines of his face softening slightly. “Yeah, I’ve been... busy,” he replied, his tone clipped and noncommittal.

You took in the sight of him, his rugged appearance a stark contrast to the tidy, polished look of the other churchgoers. The rifle and the muddy boots seemed to tell a story of their own, a story that was far removed from the neat rows of pews and the polished wooden floors of the church.

“You know, Father always says that you used to come every Sunday,” you said, trying to sound casual. “He misses you at church. Everyone does.”

Joel’s expression hardened again, the hint of vulnerability disappearing behind his usual reserve. “Yeah, well, things change,” he said tersely, his gaze fixed on the horizon. “People change.”

You wanted to press further, to understand what had driven him away, but you knew better than to push too hard. Joel was a man of few words, his emotional landscape a guarded territory. You had seen it in the way he interacted with Ellie, the way he kept his distance, the way he seemed to be perpetually battling some invisible storm.

"Are you okay?" you asked quietly, your concern slipping through despite your efforts to remain detached.

Joel’s eyes met yours, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of something raw and unspoken. He shook his head, as if to clear the thoughts from his mind. "Just trying to get by, same as anyone," he said gruffly. “Out here, it’s a little easier to do that.”

You nodded, accepting his answer even if it left many questions unanswered. The silence between you stretched, filled only with the distant chirping of birds and the gentle rustling of leaves.

Joel shifted, breaking the silence. “What are you doing out here anyway? It’s quite a trek from town. This place isn’t exactly safe, you know.” His tone was a mixture of concern and curiosity, revealing a sliver of his protective nature.

You sighed, glancing around the lake and forest. “I needed a break. Just... needed to be away from everything for a bit. It’s peaceful here." You looked at Joel, your eyes subtly asking if it was okay to continue smoking.

Joel noticed your look but chose not to comment immediately. Instead, he took a few steps closer, his boots crunching softly on the gravel. You took that as an invitation and sat down under a large tree near the lake, patting the grass beside you.

“Feel free to join me if you want,” you offered, your voice light despite the heaviness of the situation.

Joel hesitated for a moment before sitting down next to you. His presence was a grounding force, even if he wasn’t the most expressive. He glanced at the cigarette pack you had placed on the grass between you.

“Want one?” you offered, extending the pack towards him.

Joel shook his head with a faint, rueful smile. “Nah, I’m good. I’m not sure it’s right to be smoking in front of you.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “I thought you of all people wouldn’t judge me for it.”

Joel chuckled, a rare, genuine sound. “Yeah, well, I guess I’m a bit of a hypocrite when it comes to that. I’ve had my share of bad habits.”

You nodded, accepting his refusal. “How are you, Joel? I don’t see you much,” you said, your curiosity evident. It was true; Joel had been increasingly distant from the people in your town, retreating into a shell of his own making.

He met your gaze briefly, a flicker of something you couldn’t quite place crossing his features. “Just... getting by. Working hard, dealing with stuff. Not much else to it.”

There was a weariness in his voice that spoke of battles fought silently and wounds healed only with time. It was clear that the years had not been kind to Joel, even if he tried to mask it behind a facade of rugged determination.

You sensed that pushing further wouldn’t get you anywhere. Joel was not one to open up easily, and you could see that the topic of his feelings was closed off. You decided to shift the conversation, sensing that it was best to focus on something lighter.

"How’s school?” he asked, his tone shifting to something slightly more personal but still restrained. “Almost done, right?”

You nodded, a smile touching your lips despite the lingering tension. “Yeah, I’m just a few months away from graduating. It’s been a whirlwind, but I’m looking forward to it.”

“That’s good to hear,” Joel replied, giving a slight nod. “High school’s a big deal. A lot changes after that.”

You shifted slightly, tucking your legs beneath you as you sat on the grass. “It is. It feels like the end of one chapter and the start of another.” You took a deep drag from your cigarette, the smoke curling around you in the still air. Exhaling slowly, you continued, “I just want to get out of here.”

Joel’s gaze, always direct, fixed on you. He didn’t speak immediately, allowing the weight of your words to settle between you. He shifted his weight, leaning slightly on the rifle, his hands still coated in the grime of the day’s work. “Yeah?” he finally said, his tone soft but edged with curiosity. “Where do you want to go?”

You looked out over the lake, its calm surface reflecting the last rays of the sun. “Anywhere but here,” you said with a sigh. “I want to leave this town, start fresh somewhere new. I’ve been dreaming about it for a long time.”

Joel watched you silently for a moment, his expression unreadable. “Sometimes getting out can seem like the only way to find something better,” he said slowly. “But it ain’t always as simple as it sounds.”

You took another drag from your cigarette, the ember glowing brightly as you exhaled. “I know it’s not that simple,” you said quietly. “But it feels like I’m suffocating here. I just need... something different. Something real.”

Joel’s eyes narrowed slightly, his gaze not unkind but keenly observant. There was a protective instinct in him that had always been there, even when you were much younger. He sensed there was more to your words than just a desire to leave town. The carefully constructed façade of normalcy that your family projected wasn’t lost on him, though he had never delved into the specifics of your home life.

“You know,” Joel began, his voice taking on a slightly softer tone, “sometimes people want to leave for reasons that go beyond what they’re willing to say. It’s one thing to want a new place, but it’s another to be running from something.”

You stiffened slightly, the cigarette now nothing more than a stub between your fingers. You were careful not to let your emotions betray you. “It’s not just about running away,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “It’s about finding a place where I can breathe.”

Joel nodded, his gaze steady. “And you think you’ll find that out there?”

“I hope so,” you said. “I just need to get out and find out for myself. It’s been hard to see beyond this place.”

Joel shifted his weight, leaning on his rifle. His rugged face, often set in lines of stoicism, now bore a hint of concern. “You know, I’ve seen a lot of folks runnin’ away from what they don’t want to face. Sometimes they find what they’re lookin’ for, sometimes they don’t. But it’s dangerous out there for someone who’s not ready.”

You looked at him, sensing the genuine concern behind his words. “I’m ready,” you said softly. “I’ve been ready for a long time.”

Joel studied you for a moment longer, his fatherly instincts kicking in. He could see the innocence in your eyes, the quiet strength that belied your troubled soul. He had been a father before, and he knew what it was like to want to protect someone from the harsh realities of the world.

But then, with a shift in his demeanor, Joel decided it wasn’t his business to involve himself further. He cared for you, that much was clear, but he also knew his boundaries. His expression hardened slightly, a testament to his tendency to keep people at a distance. 

“Look,” he said gruffly, his Southern accent thickening his words, “it’s not my place to get too involved in this. You’re gonna have to handle things your way.” His tone was direct, carrying the weight of a man who had learned to let his actions speak louder than his words.

Despite the coldness in his voice, there was a flicker of tenderness in his eyes, a brief glimpse of the protective instincts that lingered beneath his guarded exterior. Joel operated in a morally gray area, making decisions that were often difficult and controversial, and he understood the complexities of navigating a world where right and wrong were not always clear.

He wanted to help, but his experience had taught him that sometimes the best way to show care was to step back and allow others to find their own way.

“You know,” Joel said, shifting the topic slightly, “Ellie talks about you sometimes. Says you’re smart, and she admires you for stickin’ it out. She’s got a good head on her shoulders, but she looks up to you. So, if there’s ever a time you need someone to talk to, or if you just need a friend, don’t hesitate to reach out. I may not be the best at this whole ‘talkin’’ thing, but I’m here if you need me.”

You appreciated his attempt to offer support, even if it came in a roundabout way. “Thanks, Joel. It’s nice to know that someone cares,” you said, smiling as you put out the cigarette.

Joel watched you with a mixture of concern and curiosity, as if weighing whether to press further. You could see that he was struggling with how much to say, his usual reserve at odds with the genuine warmth he was trying to convey.

“Well,” you said, glancing at the fading light, “I should head back to the church before Dad notices I’m gone.”

Joel shifted his stance, a hint of hesitation in his eyes. “You sure you don’t want a ride back? It’s a long walk, and it’s gettin’ dark.”

You shook your head, feeling a pang of guilt for declining his offer. “I appreciate it, Joel, but I don’t want to trouble you. I can manage the walk.”

Joel’s brow furrowed, and he gave a firm nod. “It ain’t no trouble. It’s just a ride. Besides, I’d rather make sure you get back safely.”

His insistence made you feel slightly uncomfortable, but you also recognized his sincerity. Raised to be polite and considerate, you found it difficult to refuse when someone was being genuinely helpful.

“Alright,” you said reluctantly, “if you insist. Thank you.”

Joel nodded, his face softening a bit as he walked over to his truck. The vehicle was old but reliable, with a rugged appearance that matched Joel’s own. He opened the passenger side door for you, gesturing for you to get in.

As you climbed into the truck, Joel got into the driver’s seat and started the engine. The interior was a mix of practical and worn, with a faint smell of leather and earth. Joel drove with a steady, practiced hand, the truck rumbling over the uneven terrain as he navigated the path back to town.

The silence in the truck was comfortable, with only the sound of the engine and the occasional rustle of the trees breaking it. You stared out the window, the fading sunlight casting a warm glow over the landscape. You could feel the weight of the day’s conversations settling in, and the quiet offered a moment of reflection.

After a few minutes, the truck rolled into town, the familiar sights coming into view. Joel slowed as he approached the church, where you could see the remaining congregants beginning to disperse.

Joel pulled up to the curb and stopped the truck. "We're here."

"Thank you once again, Joel. It’s good catching up with you," you said, giving him a grateful smile. Just as you were about to step out of the truck, you spotted your father from a distance. A sinking feeling washed over you as you realized he had seen you.

“Oh no,” you muttered, catching Joel’s eye. He turned to see your father walking towards the truck, a determined look on his face.

Joel, ever the gentleman, exited the truck as well. You followed suit, feeling a knot tighten in your stomach. Your father, who had been conversing with some church members, excused himself and made his way towards you and Joel.

“Evening, Reverend,” Joel greeted, extending a hand.

“Evening, Joel,” your father said with his usual charming demeanor, shaking Joel’s hand firmly. “It’s been a while. I hope you’ve been well.”

Joel’s expression was polite but reserved. “Can’t complain. Been keeping busy.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” your father replied smoothly. “You know, we’ve missed you at church. It would be good to see you back.”

Joel gave a noncommittal nod, his discomfort barely masked. “Maybe sometime.”

As your father turned his attention to you, his smile faltered slightly. “And where have you been, young lady? You were supposed to help with the service.”

You flinched at the stern tone, feeling his grip tighten around your arm as he spoke. “I was just taking a walk, Dad. Joel gave me a ride back.”

Your father’s grip was rough and unyielding, his fingers digging into your arm with a strength that was both painful and controlling. Joel noticed, his gaze briefly flicking to your father’s hand before returning to his face.

“Is that right?” your father said, his voice carrying a hint of disapproval. “Well, I hope you weren’t gone too long. We have responsibilities.”

"Yes, I'm sorry, father." You said smile a little to hide the pain he's causing you.

Joel cleared his throat, attempting to steer the conversation away from the tension. “I’m just making sure she gets back safe."

“Of course,” your father said, releasing your arm but maintaining a veneer of politeness. “We have a dinner invitation from Tommy and Maria next Saturday. I trust you’ll be joining us?”

Joel looked momentarily surprised. “Well, I'm supposed I am,"

Your father’s smile widened, a glint of satisfaction in his eyes. “Yes, they extended the invitation to our family. It will be good to catch up.”

Joel nodded, his expression neutral. “I’ll have to check with Ellie, but I’m sure we’ll make it.”

“Excellent,” your father said, still maintaining his charming facade. “It’ll be good for everyone to reconnect.”

As the conversation continued, Joel’s discomfort grew. He noticed the strain in your father’s demeanor and the way he seemed to be masking a more sinister undertone behind his polite words. Joel had been out of the social loop for a while, but he was perceptive enough to sense when something was off, even if he chose not to probe further.

“Well,” Joel said, his tone shifting to one of finality, “I better be on my way. Got some things to take care of. It was good seeing you again, Reverend. And you too,” he added, offering you a brief, reassuring smile.

You gave him a grateful nod, feeling a mixture of relief and apprehension. “Thank you, Joel."

Joel, giving one last nod before turning to leave. As he walked away, you could feel the weight of the evening’s encounters settling heavily on your shoulders. The brief respite you’d found in Joel’s company had been overshadowed by the return of your father’s control and the unsettling realization that your escape from this small town and its complexities might be more challenging than you had hoped.

After the Sunday service, you returned home with a heavy heart. The warmth of the day had turned cold, and the familiar feeling of dread settled over you as you approached the house. Inside, the tension was palpable, and the moment you walked through the door, you knew there would be consequences for your absence during the service.

Your father’s voice was stern and unforgiving as he called you into the living room. “You’ve abandoned your duties. Do you have any idea what that means?”

You tried to explain, but his anger cut you off. “I was just trying to get some fresh air, Dad. I didn’t mean—”

Before you could finish, he was on you, grabbing your arm with a grip that left no room for argument. He dragged you to the center of the room, his face a mask of fury. “You’ve abandoned your duty. It’s about respect and responsibility. You know how important this is.”

“No, please, Dad, don’t. I’m so sorry. I will not do it again,” you pleaded, your voice trembling.

The fear in your voice only seemed to fuel his anger. He disappeared into the hallway, returning with his belt in hand. The leather looked menacing, and your heart raced as you saw it.

“Please, Dad, I’m sorry,” you continued to beg. “I didn’t mean to disobey. I’ll make it right. Just please—”

Your father’s face was a mask of cold determination. “Take off your dress and face the wall,” he ordered, his voice steely. “You needs to be taught a lesson.”

You could barely keep your composure as you undressed, your body shaking with fear and dread. The scars on your back from a previous punishment throbbed with anticipation. When you were finally positioned with your back to him, every nerve in your body was on edge.

The first crack of the belt was sharp and painfully immediate. The sound echoed through the room, followed by a searing pain that made you flinch. You cried out, tears streaming down your face. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” you sobbed, your voice breaking with each cry of pain.

You could feel the belt cutting into your already tender skin, the sensation of bleeding mixing with the agony of the blows. Each strike felt like a betrayal of your trust, a reminder of the harsh world you were trapped in.

Your mother stood in the doorway of the kitchen, her face pale and tear-streaked. She wanted to intervene, but fear held her back. She could only watch helplessly as you were punished, her own sobs mingling with your cries of pain.

In a desperate attempt to mask the sounds of the abuse from the neighbors, she turned the gospel music up loud, hoping the noise would cover your screams and your father’s harsh words.

The music blared in the background, a twisted contrast to the suffering in the room. It felt like a cruel mockery, the joyous hymns clashing with the reality of your punishment. Your mother’s tears fell silently as she stood by, unable to offer more than the muted comfort of her presence.

As the beating continued, your strength waned. The pain was overwhelming, a relentless reminder of the control your father exerted over every aspect of your life. You could only endure, hoping for it to end soon, each moment stretching out painfully as you clung to the hope that this would be the last of such torment.

When he finally stopped, you were left huddled on the floor, your body aching and your spirit broken. Your father’s anger subsided, leaving him with a cold, resolute expression. “I hope you’ve learned your lesson,” he said gruffly, his voice devoid of empathy. “Disobedience won’t be tolerated.”

Your mother rushed to your side as soon as your father left the room, her hands trembling, “I’m so sorry,” she whispered through her tears, her voice filled with sorrow and helplessness.

You looked at her through blurred vision, your own tears mingling with hers. “I—It's okay, mama." you said weakly, your voice strained and shaky. “It’s my fault."

She helped you put your dress back on, her fingers brushing gently over the raw marks on your skin, causing you to wince. Each movement was a reminder of the pain you were enduring.

As you slowly gathered your strength, your mother helped you to a nearby chair, her hands still shaking. She sat beside you, her presence a small but comforting anchor in the storm of your emotions. The music from the kitchen blared on, a cruel backdrop to the quiet moments of shared sorrow between mother and daughter.

In the midst of the pain and turmoil, there was a flicker of hope that someday, somehow, you might find a way out of the darkness. For now, though, you could only cling to the small comforts and the hope that things might one day be different.

[the-orange-solace]

When I was a child, I watched an episode of Criminal Minds where a man had a split personality. A woman who killed other women who threatened the man she formed to protect. I remember her sitting in the dark on a couch, a cigarette in hand beside a lamp, as she spoke to an Agent about why she had to kill them, that it was to protect him. It was her entire purpose for existing.

As a child, I used to pace empty halls in the middle of the night and lay in bed, repeating in my mind that I would be the only being in my body. I will not break into multiple people. I will be in control. I have to be because, at the time, I believed I could break into those monstrous plurals you see on TV. The ones that killed their family after years of neglect, abuse, and wrongdoing. The ones you should be afraid of ever becoming, no matter who you are or your situation.

So I became terrified.

And yet, nearly every night, I'd look up at the sky or the ceiling and beg for something to change—to not be alone. I was stuck pretending I was a different character, a type of escapism that sometimes got out of hand, lost in an identity that wasn't my own. Looking up and imagining being taken away, every character I adored was by my side, caring for me in return. I had to keep going, be them, and exist in a world with them.

I'd made up stories, different realities, and places in my mind to escape to, as well as explanations for things my underdeveloped brain couldn't comprehend in the place I found myself within. I clung to concepts, characters, and situations that reflected my own, and soon, I no longer felt alone—not with all the escapism I conjured up, not with the different identities to help me face what was happening.

But I was in control. I was one being. No matter what. I had to be a single being because that was good. I had to be good.

I would never hurt anyone, and being many meant being bad. I couldn't be bad.

When I was a teenager, I started researching and getting involved in minority and disabled spaces. I loved being informed, the stories, the many perspectives, and the complexity of humanity. So it was no surprise when I shared a plural headcanon with a friend, and they felt safe coming out to me. They were many. They took my hand and guided me through a community I was fascinated with and wanted to aid and represent like so many others.

I spent years learning, staying silent as others spoke, just listening to everything I could. But then, one day, like so many others, I spoke through a different facet, a different identity I had created as a child. The many faces of me represented things I could not be, I could not hold, nor could I handle. I was struggling; some of me wanted to lash out. So she did. She lashed out.

As always, I was faced with kindness, listening ears, and aid that then pushed me more to the surface from drowning. But I never left; just another part of me was lost, right? Of course. People are complex. I deal with my emotions in a complex way. Of course.

My plurally disabled friend watched as I became more comfortable speaking through the identities I had, whether they were facets of myself or characters that helped me. Soon enough, the continuous "role-play" and "emotional processing" developed into normal conversation, a comfort, a relief.

They kindly approached me and asked if I was a system, too. They had never met anyone who spoke to themselves like I do, definitely not any singlets. None of our other friends did, in person or not, not even people in our families. It was just us.

The fear from my childhood arose. I couldn't be multiple; I couldn't be more than one. It was bad. But hadn't I learned about Plurality? All its ups and downs? Its complexities and nuances? I accepted it wholeheartedly; I learned and evolved from the demonized perception I was given as a child. So, why was it still bad?

Because I must be lying; I must be a fake, a poser. It was the only reason, wasn't it? I had seen so many conversations and arguments about fakes, those who wished to be special. Had I somehow become the harm they spoke of? How could I do this to a community I swore to listen to and fight for?

I obsessed over it, forcing the panic, dissociation, habit, and ease of speaking in multiple identities and beings of myself away. I buried it as deep as I could for the betterment of everyone else. The community didn't deserve such harm, and I wouldn't bring it to their doorstep if I claimed it to be something I'm not.

The loathing became so present it formed into tics that caused aches and disruptions in my life. Multiple stressors--along with an identity crisis--will do that to someone. So my shoulder and neck muscles ached from shrugging, flexing, and all the repetitive movements I couldn't stop without crying from the suppression. So I didn't. I let it disrupt and hurt.

Then, one day, someone, some random, unknown system to me out in the world, spoke about how it didn't matter what was real or not; it didn't hurt anyone. Plurality and the belief of it didn't hurt anyone. It hurt no one to discover themselves, to test the waters, to simply pry into yourself and learn. There was no shame in figuring yourself, or yourselves, out. There was no right or wrong, nothing to be ashamed of or fearful of. Just another part of living.

So I did. I poked and prodded. I gave my parts names, spoke to them in the middle of the night, asked questions, got to know them, and learned we couldn't talk through words at first but could emotions and sensations. I realized I couldn't find where my Plurality started or where it ended, that we—oh god, we—the idea was so surreal but...comforting—were so combined, living without specific individuality outside of me that there was no separation in sight. Not that I could figure out. For so long, I believed everything was just me. Only me.

But now it was someone else, too. These things that made no sense, these things that felt out of place or special, unique, and ever-changing could be someone else.

Someone else.

The more I reflected, learned, applied, and prodded, the more things made sense. Until one day, I looked at my friends, held my breath, and spoke. Stated that it like it was a sin for me of all people to say.

I was plural.

No one blinked an eye. No one questioned it outside of boundaries and clarification. It wasn't surprising that their childhood friend was many. How surprising could it be when they used so many different names for different parts of themselves to express hard things?

It was astonishing.

And here we are, years and years later, grown and still learning, living, fighting, but more in touch with ourselves than ever before with so many more sys friends and aquatints. More experiences, a better understanding.

It's not shameful to learn, apply, and reflect. You take nothing from anyone but your time and open-minded exploration of the world and yourself(ves). There is no evil in being human, living life, phase or not. There is nothing wrong with you, any of you, for existing or living. You just are. I embrace you, I embrace us, and I embrace everything that comes with a life of many.

So, if you're struggling, just know you're not alone outside the body. We know, and so do many others. It's going to be okay; you'll find yourself in time. Don't rush it. There will always be time.

[ghost-1-y]

Depths

Sea Serpent!Obanai x AFAB!Mermaid!Reader

Content Warnings: MDNI, thalassophobia, nyctophobia, manga spoilers if you squint, sexual content, monsterfuck!ng, penetrative sex, consensual sex, oral sex (m! and f! receiving), 69’ing, tongue-fucking (Obanai has a really long tongue), bondage (via Obanai’s tail), light choking(?), sensory deprivation (it’s dark and reader can't see things unless they’re close by), degradation (reader-receiving), self-degradation (Obanai), breeding k!nk, creamp!e, mentions of exhibitionism (doesn’t really happen), uh- reader almost swims back home naked(?), minors and ageless blogs DNI!!!

Summary: Your father had always warned you of the dangers of the deep ocean, demanding that you stay within the safe borders of the underwater kingdom. However, one day, you become curious and secretly travel into waters untraversed by any merperson still alive today – wishing to know what lies beyond the safe confines of your home, not realizing that the countless warnings from your father had been given to you for very good reason.

Word Count: ~2.8k

Divider Credit: the wonderful @/benkeibear

Whatever you do, please, for the love of Poseidon himself, do not go past the borders of the kingdom.

Whenever you left your family’s underwater cave, your father would always warn you of the dangers of leaving the safety of your home. It was, of course, something every merperson was warned about: to not travel into the depths of the ocean, or so much as pass the coral reef that bordered the edges of the region.

For every single merperson that disobeyed this rule disappeared without a trace.

You were unsure whether or not that meant they’d died, but it seemed that was the general consensus of the merfolk in your community. Even the king himself decided to create gravesites for those lost to the depths, as a way to commemorate their memory and contributions to the kingdom. What’s more is that the royal family decided to keep guards posted at the edges of the reef in order to prevent anything from coming in, as well as anyone from going out.

Most merfolk heeded these warnings without question – as the pressure of the water would have killed them anyway should they have traversed a little too deep. However, you – always the curious one – wondered what exactly happened to those who did decide to enter the endless blue and swim into the dark. While the others considered them to be foolish individuals, you thought them to be brave, courageous adventurers who wished to know more about what existed beyond the borders of your home.

But, in order to not upset your father – you couldn’t bear being the cause of his misery and grief – you stayed put. Always looking but never acting upon your desires.

And so you performed your usual daily tasks, collecting sea grass and other marine vegetation as food for your family. You’d swim along the coral reef, not going so far as to reach the outskirts of the kingdom; yet, just as you were about to pluck yet another piece of kelp from its roots, a dark shadow crossed over you from above.

By the time you turned around to see what it was, however, the shadow was gone – it had, like those who’d gone beyond the reef, disappeared without a trace.

You never considered yourself to be foolish, but even little merchildren who spoke excitedly about the mysteries of the ocean depths would question the actions you performed next as you tossed your little woven basket filled with vegetation to the side and swam to the edge of the kingdom, hoping to catch sight of whatever creature caused the shadow.

As you swam to the very edge of the reef, miraculously evading any guards posted in the area, you looked out into the deep blue as it turned to black beneath your tail – never having realized before that your reef had stood on the edge of a precipice that overlooked a vast, endless abyss – unknowing and shrouded in mystery. You shivered, an indecisive feeling striking at your heart as you questioned whether or not to follow it – before you noticed the slightest movement in the dark below.

Fuck it, you thought to yourself as you embraced the vastness of the water and swam into the depths where light began to dwindle, wishing to know what exactly lived down there. You swam, and swam, and swam – feeling the pressure slowly but surely digging into your skin – a force that, despite the small discomfort, seemed to be pushing you further downward rather than ushering you back to the safety of your home, and a sense of freedom started to flood through you – because you had done something that was unthinkable, and you were alive. 

Yet, as you continued your journey into the abyss, you noticed movement just out of the periphery of your slowly diminishing vision, and you realized how what you’d done could be perceived as foolish – because you were not alone here; there were beings lurking in the dark that engulfed you – watching you as you traversed through the unknown – or at least, what was unknown to you.

“You’re an interesting little thing, aren’t you?” a voice from behind you hissed. “Not a care in the world for what could be lurking within the shadows – stalking their prey as you go about swimming in waters that aren’t yours." 

Your blood turned to ice as you slowly turned around to face the voice’s owner – only to find nothing as you’d gone too deep into the dark, just barely able to make out the tips of your fingers as you stretched your arms out in front of you. The voice chuckled, as though it could smell your fear.

“Where– where are you? Who are you?” you hesitantly asked the voice, only for it to answer – sounding from your right this time.

“Hm? So demanding,” the voice admonished you, “I should ask you what you’re doing in my waters.” It was behind you now, “tell me, how did you find yourself so far away from your home? Are you lost? Or, perhaps you came here – came to me – on purpose…” it drawled, and you felt an uncomfortable shiver move up your spine. 

“I–” you swallowed, trying to ease the developing knot inside your throat, “I came here on purpose…I wanted to explore– I was curious of what lived beyond the reef.”

The voice hummed, “I can’t tell if you’re incredibly brave or insurmountably stupid.” It was in front of you this time, and you could just barely make out the silhouette of its figure before it shrouded itself in darkness once more.

“Can I– can I see you? I’d like to know who I’m talking to,” you insisted, trying to calm the shakiness of your voice. 

You were met with silence – had the creature left you? Were you alone again?

“Surely a thing as pretty as you would regret looking upon something as hideous as I,” it responded, nearly emotionless – as though it were stating a fact of nature itself. “Why don’t you swim home, hm? I’d spare your life just this once – next time, I won’t be so forgiving.”

Yet, when you were met with such an offer, you hesitated. Something in which the words were said made you wonder if there was truly an escape from this.

“What if I refused?” You were beginning to realize how foolish you truly were. “I’m not leaving until I know who you are,” you maintained, and the creature scoffed.

“You merfolk have always been brainless,” it sighed, “I shouldn’t have expected anything different from you.”

“Don’t talk about my people that way,” you demanded, and you were met with what could only be described as a low growl.

“Why shouldn’t I? It was your people who cast me out years ago – who left me to rot in the depths beneath the reef… fucking pitiful, isn’t it?” the voice spat, “you wanted to see me? Surely you’ll understand why they did such a thing when I look like this,” it seethed as it finally got close enough to reveal itself to you.

At first, his outline suggested that he was a fellow merperson, but your eyes widened as he got closer – as he revealed his more reptilian nature. To start, he lacked the forked caudal fin usually possessed by merfolk, instead possessing one more pointed and snake-like – one that merged into a spinal fin that ran continuously along his much longer tail and back. Your eyes ran up his torso, which was scaly and muted in color like the rest of his underside. You looked at his arms, which were surprisingly one of the more mer-like parts of his body – until you gazed upon his hands, which were webbed in between his fingers, and with nails so sharp they could easily slice open the throat of any prey. Last was his face – again, similar to that of a merperson, but his ears were finned and his mouth was wide and serpent-like – almost as if it were cut open along the sides. Your eyes scanned down his body once more until– oh.

His cock was huge.

Embarrassment caused heat to prickle across your cheeks, since merpeople in your kingdom would usually wear loincloths made of kelp to cover themselves in public. You forced your gaze away from his lower half, only to see him glaring at you as you looked up towards his face and into his mismatched irises.

Yet, you didn’t display any emotion of disgust or fear upon seeing him, a reaction which very much confused the serpent before you, as all others before you treated him as though he were the algae stuck to their scales – or worse, something that needed to be killed off, as though he were no better than a barracuda threatening the young merchildren that played along the reef.

“Why do you not cower in fear? Why do you not try to escape?” He asked as you maintained eye contact with him, a pregnant pause ensuing between the two of you.

“Is there a reason I should be afraid?” you asked, and he frowned.

“A horrifying creature such as I should invoke fear, disgust even. Tell me, dear,” he mocked, “tell me how sickening you think I am,” he demanded, bearing his pointed teeth. 

“You’re beautiful.”

He paused, unbelieving of the words that floated across your tongue and through your lips.

“Liar.”

You shook your head, “let me prove it to you,” you suggested, drawing closer to him within the darkened abyss, “may I ask for your name?”

The serpent looked at you with suspicion before conceding to your request. “Obanai Iguro,” he stated. 

“Obanai…” You let the name roll off your tongue, fingers lightly tracing along the scales of his chest, causing him to tense slightly, “such a pretty name.”

He grabbed your wrist with his webbed hand in warning, his grip tight against your skin.

“I’ll break you,” he cautioned, and you smiled, using your free hand to drag the tips of your fingers along his scaled torso.

“Maybe I want to be broken,” you purred.

As though something snapped within him, Obanai coiled his tail around you, effectively trapping you in place, with his narrow caudal fin lightly constricting around your throat. He pushed you against the rocky surface of the underwater massif and met you at eye level, faces mere inches apart from each other before he clashed his mouth with yours, his fangs prickling against your lips as he kissed you fervently. 

“You want me to break you? I’ll fucking ruin you, dear.”

Obanai gripped your jaw and forced his tongue into your mouth, making you quickly realize its forked nature as he massaged your tongue. He ripped his lips away from yours before moving down towards your breasts, grabbing at the shells that covered them with his sharpened nails and allowing them to fall into the darkness below. He latched his widened lips to one of your nipples, his forked tongue flicking the hardening bud as he sucked your breast into his mouth.

“Fuck– so good,” you whimpered, and he hummed before providing similar attention to your other breast, his tail tightening ever so slowly around your body – as though constricting around his prey in order to obtain his next meal.

And a meal you were, as he used his tail to force you further upward until his face was just below your navel, using his teeth to rip away the cloth adorning your waist as though he were haphazardly unwrapping a present. He wasted absolutely no time before plunging his tongue deep into your hot, exposed cunt, his lips pursing along your opening as he collected your juices. The muscle pulsed along your slick walls, undulating inside of you as he began to swallow your sweet nectar. Your eyes rolled back as your body reacted to the unfamiliar intrusion – moaning wantonly as he fucked you along the length of his tongue, before roughly pulling out of you, leaving you to whine at the sudden cut off from your impending orgasm.

You gasped as he turned you upside down and brought you close to his hardened cock. “Suck on it,” he demanded, and you obliged – having to use both of your hands to fully wrap around its girth before suckling at his tip. He plunged his tongue back into your tight pussy, causing you to moan around the head of his swollen, flushed cock. 

“Shit– that’s it, keep doing that,” he groaned as you began bobbing your head along his leaking tip, fitting as much as you could into your mouth while using both hands to stroke the remaining length of his dick. You licked along the underside of his cock, the veins adorning it throbbing against your tongue, his soft groans spurring you on. He started to rub your clit as his tongue entered your tight hole once more.

“Fuck!” you whined, “i-it’s too much! Obanai–!” you pleaded as he stretched his tongue further into your pussy, the forked tip slightly brushing along your cervix. He moaned, sending vibrations deep into your gushing cunt, putting you in a daze as you lazily stroked his cock. You could feel the tension build up deep within your stomach as he continued to prod his tongue through your wet entrance.

“C-Close…fuck ‘m gonna–!” you screamed as your orgasm ripped through you, and Obanai groaned as he lapped up all of your release with his tongue, swallowing all of it. He didn’t let up on the binding he put you in with his tail, but he did position you right side up again so he could kiss you, letting you taste yourself on his lips and tongue.

“So dirty, wanting to be fucked by something like me,” he groaned before pinning you against the rock once more, dragging his cock along your folds. You whimpered, causing him to chuckle, “you want this serpent’s cock? Want to get filled with my filthy cum?” and you nodded, your head falling back before he grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him. “I asked you a question, sweetheart.”

“Yes! Please! Wan’ your cock inside me– oh fuck!” you cried as he wasted no time shoving it deep inside you, filling you balls deep in a single stroke. You could see the outline of his cock as it pushed against your tight walls, the slightest bulge showing along your abdomen as he pressed inside of you. 

“Shit, even after I stretched you out with my tongue, you’re still so fucking tight,” he panted, his grip that bound you loosening a little as he began pounding into you. “Such a dirty fucking whore, what would your people think if they saw you getting ruined like this?” 

You whined, unable to respond with how well he was fucking into your cunt, easily hitting that one spongy area that caused you to arch your back even further and clench around his cock. “Hm? Do you like that idea? You’re dirtier than I thought.” He increased the intensity of his thrusts, and you could only hear the pap, pap, pap of his balls slapping against you as he relentlessly impaled you on his cock.

His thrusts became sloppier as he got closer to his own climax. “I’m gonna fill you up, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Hah- gonna breed you with my cum, then everyone will know you got fucked by a nasty serpent like me.” You whimpered and nodded, and he smirked before pressing his cock fully into you, groaning deeply as he emptied himself into your hot cunt, triggering your own orgasm as you gushed all over his dick. He pulled out of you and drew back his tail so you were no longer bound by him, lowering himself so he could lick at your pussy once more, tasting your mixed juices on his tongue. You jolted as he flicked at your clit, and cried out from the overstimulation before he parted from you.

“I’ll let you go – swim along home, dear. I’ll be down here if you ever wish to indulge me again,” he stated before licking his lips, eyes still hungry as he gazed down at you. You nodded and swam back up to the precipice of the cliff, cum still leaking out of you as you started to return home, only stopping yourself minutes later as you shamefully realized that you had nothing left to cover yourself with as you emerged from the depths.

Perhaps you’d stay, you thought, no one ever returned from swimming beyond the reef, after all.

Taglist: @k-a-t-h-r-i-n-a @wow-im-gay, @peanutpunchy, @love-me-satoru, @crazycatlddy, @dinosaur-crime-scene, @llearlert, @thisbicc, @gojoscumslut, @everyonesfinaldestination, @leehoonii-i, @kyojurismo, @briefrebelfanalmond, @izuoyarmin, @ahashiraswife, @d1gitalbathh

(if your name is crossed out, it means that tumblr didn't allow me to tag you! apologies for the inconvenience)

[dark-dragon-8]

In case you guys couldn't tell, Dick Grayson, AKA Nightwing, is my favorite DC character. Specifically because I can just write/imagine him however way I want, within the realm of (fanon) reason, and someone will agree with me/there's already a fic about it.

Want to read about a murderous character? Nightwing has once killed the Joker and (as far as I know) didn't regret it. Not to mention Renegade also exists (along with former Talon AU, secret/resolved "killer" AU, where he kills but doesn't tell anyone, and more minor ones as well) and there are several fics where he takes on that alias in order to deal with some "unfinished business" regarding his family.

Want to read about an undercover character using their looks and flirting to their benefits (and having the attention of everyone at the bar by simply existing and being hot)? I have read so many undercover Dick Grayson that wore the sluttiest outfits just to get info. Even read a few where he did it to make his siblings (mainly Jason) more comfortable since they weren't comfortable with it yet that was his forte (regardless of whether or not he liked doing that as well).

Looking for a rich (kinda spoiled, an act, but still lovable and amazing) Nepo baby that everyone thirsts over in the gala? Richie Wayne is right there and is the eldest Wayne/heir, that's bound to cause some drama at parties/Galas (esp with protective Batfam) and I love that (please give me more fics like that, I can barely find any).

Want a badass vigilante that can beat the absolute life out of criminals and defeat Batman with relative ease? Nightwing is one of the strongest members of the Batfam, if I remember correctly he even defeated Cassandra/an opponent equal to Cassandra before.

Want to read an angst filled story about a character that feels like they're being objectified all the time and just wants a break? Do I even have to say it?

Want a character study about how the annoyed/stubborn/exhausted guy from the comics turned into an "attention whore" on fics? I remember reading (and even writing) character studies where Dick is suffering from stuff such as hypersexuality and anxiety issues where he needs people to see/notice/pay attention to him as a result of his sexual trauma (the assault & other stuff he went through).

And so much more. The duality of that man, when a character has such a variety of interpretations and ways to write about them it just fills that writer/storyteller/reader in me with joy. That complex potential that I seek in characters, like being able to kill someone while also being a hero loved by the hero community, a celebrity loved by the world and a few beyond it, a spoiled rich kid when he likes to indulge himself and a victim that has suffered through so much, it's natural to give them different ways (separation anxiety, exhibitionism, aversion to touch, etc) to cope and deal with the horrible hand that was given to them. It's just something that is very rare to come across in a character, especially one so well known and loved for all of those different things rather than only one or two of them taking over the entire character and its interpretation, and I really love Nightwing for being that character for both writers and readers looking for somethings and finding all they could ask for and more in just a singular tag (ofc I know the other characters have a variety as well, Dick just has such a big variety and his "spectrum" is so big, vast and versatile, he has a piece of the fandom for everything, like a bunch of different characters smacked into one, all sharing the same name, it's why I chose him specifically and why I love reading about him the most specifically).

[nickssidewitch]

This fanbase is too fucking disgusting, and y’all wonder why some of your favorite writers and some friends you all have made on here are leaving.

Because of bullying and fuckery like this:

Yes, these are screenshots from that strange account @sturnioloexposing. YES.

I have this account blocked, but people come into my DMs always feeling uncomfortable and saddened by posts like these, and it breaks my heart to read the messages. And I think it’s about time that we have a real conversation about bullshit like this within our little community on this platform.

Obviously it is not just this account. There are other accounts that have come up who have tried to emulate this sort of content. But I’m calling out this one specifically as an example because they’re crossing lines that niggas shouldn’t be crossing on this app within this space. And the niggas hitting the like button on this shit are just as guilty and weird.

First of all, this account used to say “RUMORS” instead of “THEORIES”, and then when I clocked their ass about being weird since spreading rumors about people is a fucking no-go by any means, they were quick to change it to “theories”.

And you wanna talk about some damn lurking?? Nigga, you slipped your dick on the follow button while swiping through my shit. And you wanna get all stupid talking about some other account lurking you? Fuck off.

You created a fuckass account just to incite people talking shit about others. You know damn fucking well your account wasn’t created to just “talk about fan theories about the triplets”. You came here to just be a weird nigga and make people feel bad for simply existing on this platform.

You even sent my mutual a DEATH THREAT. The fuck?1

Get the fuck outta here with this bullshit.

And now, I’m not an ass-licker of anyone’s. I have my own spine, and my mouth is clean from any shit anybody wants to say. But having some sort of fucking personal vendetta against someone and using your account to fuel bullying of any means to that person when they have NOT done anything wrong except just… exist, is FUCKED UP. Point blank, period.

And don’t say I’m doing that shit to you because you know you’re wrong as fuck for the shit you be doing, weirdo.

Using Rose @bernardsbendystraws as an example since y’all love to bring her up and she’s the recent target, I can tell a lot of people target her account, simply because she has a mind of her own and enjoys creating the content she makes on here. I don’t know her at all. We don’t talk offline at all. We’re just mutuals who respect each other’s work. That’s the extent of our relationship. But I can see that she’s just simply trying to be a creator, and I respect that. Someone asking for credit for shit that they create or edit is fair. Who the fuck are you to think otherwise?

You can dislike someone and the content they make. But creating platform that incites harassment and bullying, not even using actual things they’ve done wrong to provide as evidence for your animosity, is hell. And anyone who does that shit is lame as fuck. Y’all should be ashamed of yourselves.

I know bitches are gonna wanna argue with me and say some lame shit like “i ain’t reading all that” or “this is just tumblr” or whatever the fuck, but there are people behind these screens who come on social media to just have fun and chill out with others who share the same interests as them. And if you waste your fucking time hitting your thumbs on a “create account” button to just talk shit with some lame ass comebacks and fuel some unnecessary drama and weirdo shit within a fandom that’s supposed to be fun and chill and a little slutty, you’re a lame bitch.

And fuck any account who tries to make another godforsaken “expose” account on here. You ain’t exposing shit but your own malarkey, nigga.

If someone needs to be exposed for being an actual dickhead who’s ignorant or a weirdo who talks to minors or anything, let’s all band together and clock that shit as soon as possible. We don’t need no messy ass account for that.

Everyone report that damn account, and report all them other stupid ass accounts who swear they’re Regina George’s burn book who jerk off to getting their 20 likes on being sore instigators. Fuck outta here with that lame shit. Let Sturniolo fans be horny and shitpost. My GOD!

[hippiegoth97]

Renegade: Eddie Munson x Reader

Collage by me :)

Master List

Tag List: @keikoraven @ar-jupiter @alcielo1438 @cairro-xx @stolen-in-moonlight

@micheledawn1975 @janiejenn @rafeyscurtainbangs @melodymunson @spacedoutdaydreamer

@veemoon @sariahs-stuff @feral-pumpkin-energy @comeonatmebruh @munsoneightysixx

@morgthemagpie @josephquinnsfreckles @jenniquinn @userchai @cometzombie

@spookybabey @daggerdaggerkitten @nina6708 @sanctumdemunson @yourdailymemedelivery

@person-005 @slowandsteddie @gri959 @elegantkoalapaper @letitgoandletlive

@loserboysandlithium @costellation-hunter @leelei1980 @h-ness1944 @pretendthisnameisclever

@ohmeg @stalactitekilla @hellfirenacht @birdysaturne @oneforthemunny

@prettyboyeddiemunson @eddievanmunson @msgexymunson @rattkween86 @violetpixiedust

@bimbobaggins69 @angel-munson @eldermayfield @munsonsbtch @bimbogorewhore

@mediocredreams @bloodibambiidoll @taintedcigs @ali-r3n @emxxblog

Description: It's spring break of '86, and you receive a call from Dustin after seeing a troubling news story on the television. He enlists your help to find Eddie, a young man you remember was supposed to graduate with you two years prior. The two of you have history, which causes you to willingly volunteer yourself to watch after the unfortunate fugitive. You comfort him in his time of need, in more ways than one. And you end up finding something that's been missing from your lonely existence for way too long...

Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI: swearing, female reader, smut, fingering, oral sex, unprotected sex, squirting, consecutive orgasms, mentions of violence, one use of the F-slur, mentions of abuse/attempted sexual assault, mentions of past underage sex (reader and Eddie are both 19/20 in the actual story), mentions of drug/alcohol use, mentions of minor criminal activity, crying, light PTSD

A/N: This story contains dialogue from Stranger Things season four for context within my story, some of which has been modified. The credit for said dialogue goes to the Stranger Things writers, the Duffer Brothers, and Netflix. I only use it for entertainment purposes, I do not own Stranger Things or any of its characters, and I do not profit from my stories.

Word Count: 25.8k

divider by @strangergraphics

Renegade

You're sitting on the couch in your apartment, watching the early afternoon cartoons. A bowl of Honeycomb cereal sits before you, and you munch away at it mindlessly. Suddenly, in the middle of your animated entertainment, the local news cuts in to deliver a breaking story. You roll your eyes, it's probably another story about how evil Dungeons & Dragons is or some shit. This town sure loves to cater to sensationalism. There's been actual monsters from another dimension terrorizing this town, but all anyone can talk about is 'Just Say No' and 'the threat of satanism'.

A newswoman stands outdoors in the afternoon sun, in the middle of a place you'd recognize anywhere. Forest Hills trailer park, and the scene of the crime behind her is none other than the home of Eddie Munson. What the hell? You turn up the volume, needing to know what's going on.

"This is Channel Nine News coming to you live with a breaking story. We're in the Forest Hills trailer park in East Roane County. We don't have a lot of details right now, but we can confirm that the body of a Hawkins High student was discovered early this morning. Police have not released the victim's name, although we are told they're currently in the process of notifying the family. This incident is sure to rock the community of Hawkins, as the town has seen so much loss in recent years. Just last summer, there was the tragic fire at Starcourt Mall that claimed thirty lives. Police have the area around the crime scene blocked off as they are currently investigating, and are advising the trailer park residents to stay indoors, and stay vigilant. It has not yet been determined if foul play is involved, but we'll report back when we receive further details on this story."

You click off the TV, unable to believe that yet another life has been claimed by this bullshit town. The second you put the remote down, your phone begins to ring. You take the receiver out of its cradle, bringing it to your ear. "Hello?" You say.

"Y/N! It's Dustin, have you seen Eddie?" Dustin Henderson, one of the many friends you've managed to make over the last couple years. You'd first become acquainted with him last summer, when you worked at Starcourt before the 'fire'. You worked at Scoops Ahoy with Steve and Robin, both of which you remembered from your high school days. You graduated back in '84, the year Eddie was originally supposed to. You didn't hang out much, but you'd run into each other at times. He was kind, if not a little guarded. But he has every reason to be, given the fact that Hawkins High and the town as a whole absolutely hate him. And now, they're going to think he's a murderer. "Hello? You there, Y/N?" Dustin asks, snapping you out of your thoughts.

"Um, yeah. I haven't seen Eddie, but I just saw the news." You reply.

"Yeah, so did I. Can you meet me at Family Video? We should make some calls." He says, seemingly hiding some vital details. But you know just as well as him that someone could be listening to your conversation right now. The government has been keeping a very close watch on Hawkins, screening calls and performing raids. Anything alluding to the upside-down, or Eleven, or any other product of Hawkins lab will send some very scary people your way.

"Yeah, I'll be there in fifteen." You say hurriedly, checking your watch. The line cuts out, and you set the phone down on the table. You jog to your bedroom, hastily changing out of your pj's and into some jeans and a t-shirt. You slip on a cardigan as well as the air is still a bit chilly at times. You pull on your converse and grab your purse as you walk out the door. You get in the car as fast as you can, peeling out of the parking lot of your apartment complex. It doesn't take long for you to show up at the video store, noticing two bicycles leaning against the glass windows. You put your car in park and go inside. You find Dustin and Max behind the counter, having just spilled some newly returned tapes on the floor. Steve and Robin are yelling at the two of them for disrupting their day, noting how hectic the shop has been thus far. "Hey guys." You say to interrupt their squabbling.

"Oh, hey, Y/N. What are you doing here?" Steve asks, giving you a once-over. You roll your eyes at him, he's always had a bit of a thing for you. He knows you aren't into him that way, so he stopped persistently asking you out quite some time ago. He can't seem to control his wandering eyes, though, much to your dismay.

"Dustin asked me to meet him. Eddie's missing, and we need to find him." You reply, going around the counter the civilized way to help out.

"And how exactly do you guys plan to do that?" Robin asks, putting the dropped tapes back on the counter.

"I'm going to look up the numbers of Eddie's friends so we can call and see if they've seen him. Someone must have, right?" Dustin replies, going over to the computer and beginning to push buttons.

"Hey, now! That's property of Family Video, dude. You shouldn't be messing with that." Steve says, trying to get in the way to stop the kid.

"Quit it, Steve! I need to do this! It's important!" Dustin shouts, still pressing on keys to get into the customer log.

"But why? You think Eddie's cooler than me cuz he plays your nerdy game or something?" Steve asks, sounding rather jealous.

"No, dude! I never said that." Dustin says. He looks to Max, needing some assistance here. He can't stop what he's doing to explain every little detail, there's no time to waste."Can you just- fill them in while I do this?" He asks as he types away on the customer database.

"Fill us in on what?" Robin asks, speaking for the three of you who have no idea what's going on. Max proceeds to explain what she saw last night, Chrissy at Eddie's trailer, Eddie driving away, the lights flickering. The pieces begin to fit together as she speaks. Automatically, your mind goes to some upside-down-related nonsense. But there's no way to know for sure until you locate Eddie and hear his side of the story. You truly believe he wouldn't do something like this. He may look intimidating at times, but he's no killer.

You assist Max and Dustin in calling around, allowing Robin and Steve to work on this busy Saturday. One by one, names are crossed off a relatively short list. But the name 'Reefer Rick' comes up as another person who may know of Eddie's whereabouts. It's said that Rick is Eddie's supplier, and he crashes at his house sometimes. No one knows exactly who he is, or his phone number. So, for a moment you think this plan is a bust, a dead end. Until Robin comes up with an idea, after Steve stupidly suggests you go to the police. She takes Dustin's place at the computer, typing in 'Rick'. There's twelve names that match, hopefully you can narrow it down.

"That's a lotta Ricks." Max observes aloud, drawing nods of agreement from all of you. Robin pulls up the profiles one by one, eliminating them due to their picks of musicals, kids movies, teen flicks, and one account with an odd amount of water-themed films. She clicks down to one containing Fast Times and practically every Cheech and Chong movie in existence. Bingo.

"Looks like we've found our guy. Rick Lipton. The address is 2121 Holland Road." Robin says.

"That's out by Lover's Lake." Dustin chimes in.

"Middle of nowhere." Max adds.

"The perfect place to hide." You conclude. With that, Robin and Steve close up shop and the five of you pile into Steve's car to go find Eddie. It's gotten dark by the time you reach the home, and Steve parks the car. You all walk to the front door, with Dustin pressing on the bell. The dinging tone echoes through the interior of the house, but no one seems to be inside. Dustin pushes the bell repeatedly, becoming frustrated at the notion that this idea was wrong from the start.

"Well, looks like he's not here." Steve says, ready to give up. Dustin calls Eddie's name aloud, hoping the sound of a friendly voice will lure him out. Steve keeps trying to shush him, not wanting to call attention to your snooping if anyone else lives out here. The rest of you flash your lights through the windows, looking for any sign of life. You notice there's a boathouse which partially hovers over the lake. The door is slightly ajar, and you call everyone over to see your discovery.

"Maybe he's in here." You say, and your group slowly approaches the boathouse. You search the outside first, peeking in the windows. You can't see much, it's an absolute mess in there. You go inside, flashing your lights into every corner in hopes to find your missing metalhead.

"Hello, anyone home?" Robin asks cautiously. She's not too keen to be out by the lake at night, where a potential killer could be hiding.

Steve notices a boat with a large tarp over it sitting in the water, taking an oar off the metal wall of the shed to poke around. It's really the only good hiding place in here, so he jabs at the bulky tarp with the wooden instrument. "What are you doing?" Dustin asks, thinking Steve has lost it.

"He could be in here." Steve replies casually, continuing his curious prodding.

"Just take the tarp off!" Dustin suggests.

"If you're so brave, you do it!" Steve shoots back. You and the other girls continue to look around, ignoring the usual Henderson-Harrington banter. It's best to tune them out when possible, they spend half their time together going back and forth like siblings.

"Someone was here." Max notices empty snack wrappers and beer bottles, signaling that somebody had been here recently.

"Maybe he heard us. Got spooked and ran." Robin proposes.

"Don't worry, Steve will get him with his oar." Dustin quips, pointing to the man still poking around in the boat. The tarps continue to rustle, but no sounds of a person emit from underneath.

"I know you think you're being funny, man. But considering everyone here has almost died a hundred times, I don't personally find it funny in the slight-" Steve is interrupted as a figure jumps out of the boat. They grab onto Steve, pushing him roughly against the wall. You all shout at the sudden movements and noise, processing what's happening. You realize the figure is indeed Eddie, holding a broken bottle up to Steve's neck. A frightened yet defensive look sits on Eddie's face, and he's glistening with sweat. His body is shaking, making the broken glass in his grip quiver. His chest heaves, breathing heavily as adrenaline rushes through his veins. Steve looks just as terrified, the glass so very close to puncturing his throat. "Wait! Wait! Wait!" Steve shouts, trying to get Eddie to slow down.

"Eddie! Stop!" Dustin cries, attempting to get his friend's attention. He calls his name a couple more times, drawing Eddie's gaze to him. His eyes change slightly, somewhat confused as to why the kid is here. He's possibly contemplating whether or not his life is in danger. "It's me, Dustin. This is Steve, he's not gonna hurt you. Right, Steve?" Dustin gestures at Harrington, whose eyes are blown wide in terror. Eddie's got an iron grip on his shirt, keeping him pinned to the wall.

"Right, yeah." Steve whispers. He doesn't want his throat to get cut from talking too loudly or too much.

"Steve, drop the oar." Dustin instructs. Steve does so, which makes Eddie move in closer to him, like he might actually hurt him. "He's cool! He's cool!" He tries to explain.

"What are you doing here?" Eddie asks in a shaky voice. It's the first time he's spoken, and he sounds like a man who's been to hell and back. You're frozen in place, helplessly watching this situation unfold.

"We're looking for you." Dustin replies.

"We're here to help." Robin adds, and Eddie's eyes snap to her suspiciously. This could be a trap. A trap formed by the cops to draw him out.

"Eddie, these are my friends. You know Robin, from band." Dustin points to her, and she imitates playing the trumpet as that's her instrument of choice. "This is Max, the one who never wants to play D&D." He gestures at Max and she gives an awkward wave. "And this is Y/N. I know her from when she worked at the mall with Steve and Robin last summer." You give him a small smile, and Eddie's eyes change again. He definitely recognizes you, from back when he was supposed to graduate in '84. You were really nice to him, unlike most people. "We're on your side, Eddie." Dustin insists, hoping these statements are enough to get him to drop the weapon and talk to your group. "I swear on my mother. Right, guys?"

"Yep, yep, we swear. On Dustin's mother." You all add in various volumes and phrasing, nodding your heads to affirm this. Eddie thinks it over a moment, his face hardening again. On the one hand, the police could be waiting outside right now, waiting for the right moment to bust in here. But on the other, you all seem to want to help him, to listen to the crazy shit he saw last night. He lets Steve go, turning away. Steve lets out a sigh of relief, and all of you do the same. Crisis averted. All that's left to do now is get Eddie to talk. You notice him sliding down the wall, looking absolutely exhausted and traumatized.

Dustin walks over to him slowly, noticing the bottle still in his hand. "Eddie. We just want to talk." He takes the words one at a time, carefully reaching for the weapon in Eddie's hand. Eddie snatches it backwards, not quite wanting to let it go. It's all he has to defend himself with, and he feels far from comfortable enough to drop it. "Okay." Dustin says when he flinches.

You kneel beside Eddie, hoping your familiarity might help ease him a bit more. "We wanna know what happened."

Eddie sniffs harshly before speaking. He turns his head slightly to look your way, while still halfway hiding behind his hair. "You won't believe me." He says meekly, quieter than you've ever heard him talk before. He shakes his head, not wanting to believe it himself. It would be so much easier to believe he lost his mind, and hallucinated whatever the hell he saw to cope with the fact that he did, in fact, kill Chrissy. He knows he wouldn't do that, but what other explanation is there? His silly fantasy games aren't real, so that only leaves the horrors of man as the culprit. Right?

"Try us." Max says simply. The unphased looks on your faces make Eddie's eyebrow raise in questioning. Maybe something else is going on here, and maybe you and your friends can give him the answers. He takes a moment to gather himself, inhaling a few deep breaths before reliving this fucking nightmare.

"Chrissy had come to me at school yesterday, wanting to buy drugs. She wanted something stronger than weed, so I brought her to my place after the game. Things seemed fine at first, but that's when the weird shit started." He says, relatively calm. That is, until he has to bring up the 'weird shit'. His demeanor changes, becoming panicked. "Her body just, like, lifted up into the air and, uh..." He says, his tone laced with fear. The images replay in his head as he speaks, though they haven't exactly stopped since he first witnessed them. You all listen intently as he recounts the events, finding the details utterly gruesome. "And she just, like, hung there. In the air. And her bones, uh..." He whimpers, squeezing his eyes shut at the thought.

He feels sick saying any of this, it's all so horrible. But he knows you just want to help, so he soldiers on. "Her bones started to snap." The echoes of Chrissy's arms and legs breaking like twigs flashes fresh in his mind, making him want to throw up. "And her eyes, man. It...it was like something, like, inside her head, pulling." He makes a pulling motion with his hands to illustrate the point. His voice becomes more unsteady. He feels so ashamed of what he did next, like a goddamn coward. "I-I didn't know what to do, so I..." He stops again, his heart aching terribly. "I ran away. I left her there." His breath hitches, and all of you look at him with sympathetic sorrow. He stares at all of you, scoffing at how bonkers his story sounds. "You all think I'm crazy, right?" He brings his hand to his face, becoming embarrassed for saying anything at all.

"No. We don't think you're crazy." Dustin says.

"Don't bullshit me, man! I know how this sounds!" Eddie exclaims. His voice cracks, and his eyes fill up with tears.

"We're not bullshitting you." Max interjects.

"We believe you." Robin joins in. Eddie exhales in defeat, shaking his head. This is all too insane, there's no way you all aren't yanking his chain. Sure, people talk like this town is cursed or something. But that's all talk. Hell, he's heard so many rumors about himself, which he knows are lies. So who's to say that anyone claiming there's a curse, or monsters, or any of that crap is telling the truth?

"Look, what I'm about to tell you might be a little...difficult to take." Dustin says, and you all realize he's going to tell Eddie everything. Personally, you're not so sure that's a good idea. Eddie's been through enough as it is, hearing everything else that's happened might push him off the deep end.

"Okay." Eddie says weakly, unsure he even wants to listen. But he supposes if it could clear his name and explain what he saw, he might as well give it a shot.

"You know how people say Hawkins is 'cursed'? They're not...way off." Dustin says. He can't believe he's actually about to drag yet another person into the supernatural shit you've all experienced since Will went missing. "There's another world. A world hidden beneath Hawkins. Sometimes, it bleeds into ours."

"Like ghosts and shit?" Eddie interrupts, not quite understanding what Dustin means.

"There are some things...worse than ghosts." Max adds.

"These monsters from this other world...we thought they were gone. But they've come back before. That's why we needed to find you." You say, your own nerves beginning to get to you at the notion. Last year was a fight for your lives you'll never forget, and you definitely don't want to repeat it.

"If they're back again, we need to know." Max takes another turn.

"Did you see anything that night? Dark particles, maybe?" Robin asks, going over the usual upside-down tropes.

"It would almost look like dust, swirling dust." Dustin elaborates, hoping that's a bit clearer.

Eddie shakes his head. "No, there was nothing you could see…or touch. You know, I tried to wake her, man. She couldn't move. It was like she was in a trance or something."

"Or under a spell." Dustin suggests, piquing Eddie curiosity. He's making it sound like it's a fuckin' D&D campaign.

"A curse." Eddie replies, leaning into the idea. It's far from The craziest thing he's heard at this point, so why not?

"Vecna's curse." Dustin breathes.

"Who's Vecna?" Steve asks, hoping to God it's not another geeky reference to their silly game. The group has named nearly every creature and phenomenon after various bullshit fantasy things, and he's a little sick of it to be honest.

"An undead creature of great power." Dustin replies fearfully, making Steve roll his eyes slightly in response.

"A spell caster." Eddie says, committing to the concept completely.

"A dark wizard." Dustin says with total finality.

"Okay, great. So...we're dealing with another unstoppable force. What exactly do we do now?" Robin asks.

"I don't know, we don't have a lot to go on. Eddie didn't physically see anyone, and the way Chrissy died isn't exactly one we've seen before. We'll have to do some investigating, maybe find Nancy. But until then, we'd better get some sleep." Dustin says. He stands, and the others move to leave. But you stay where you are.

"Aren't we forgetting something?" You ask, gesturing at Eddie who's still crouching on the floor.

"Oh, right." Dustin sighs, trying to think of what to do. "I don't think any of us could harbor Eddie unnoticed, and the police will probably exhaust every lead that connects to him. Even you, Y/N. I think it's safest to leave him here. We can deliver supplies and leave a walkie with him. But there's not much else we can do." He says sadly, hating the idea of leaving his friend behind.

"I'll stay with him." You offer. You don't want Eddie to be alone, he shouldn't have to be after all he's been through. Besides, there was a time where you needed him years ago and he helped you, no questions asked. It's odd, up until now, you'd almost completely forgotten all about it.

It was junior year, and you had kind of fallen in with a bad crowd. Kids that skipped class, did drugs, snuck off to all corners of the woods to have sex. You were seeing a guy named Benji, who was a real creep. He was a year older than you, and often took advantage of your naivety. There was one night in particular, at some popular asshole's house on a Friday night, where Benji tried to take everything you had.

"Hey, babe. Get me another beer, will ya?" Benji slurs, handing you his empty cup for you to refill at the keg outside. You've been doing so all night, bringing him cup after cup while hardly having any time for yourself. It's a party, and you wanna dance and have a good time. But of course, you can't possibly disobey Benji. He's the only one that pays attention to you, the only one that makes you feel alive.

"Sure thing, baby. I'll be right back." You say, turning away to head out into the backyard.

"That's my girl." Benji smirks, smacking your ass. Him and his buddies laugh raucously, and you try to hold back the yelp from the sting of his hand. You hate it when he does that, especially in front of everyone. You go out to the keg, finding quite a few people waiting in line to fill up. There's some couples making out against the side of the house, guys chatting about how many chicks they've laid, a girl crying on the porch steps because her boyfriend kissed another girl. Typical party fare, nothing to write home about. Except for a certain someone you recognize, selling little baggies of weed and coke out of his metal lunchbox. Eddie Munson.

You've seen him around school a lot, he's in the same year as you. He's a bit odd at times, but he's one of the only people that's actually nice to you. You've talked politely in passing in the hall, and you've bought stuff from him a few times. He always gives you a discount, which you highly appreciate as the only money you get is whatever Benji gives you to buy with. You notice Eddie finishing a sale, and his eyes meet yours. He smiles at you, closing up shop for a moment to come say hello. "Hey there, Y/N. I figured I'd see you here. You havin' fun?" He says with a kind smile, moving forward with you as the line progresses.

"I guess. I'm just waiting to get a refill for Benji." You say nervously, looking over your shoulder. Benji is definitely the jealous type, and you really hope he doesn't see you talking to Eddie so casually.

"Ah, I see." His face falls slightly. He knows all about Benji. He's a grade A asshole, and Eddie hates seeing the way he treats you. He's always grabbing at your tits and ass in the middle of the hall, ignoring your protests and swatting hands. And he frenchs you by your locker in front of everyone, shoving his tongue sloppily down your throat. "Can't he get his own drink? He's a grown man, well, legally speaking." Eddie snarks.

"I know. It's fine, gives me a moment for myself, away from the crowd." You reply as you gaze down at your feet.

"Well, it's not really a moment for yourself if you're spending it serving someone else. Right?" He continues, trying to get you to admit how you really feel. He knows you're suffering in this 'relationship', and it breaks his heart. To see someone treat you so terribly, like an object. It makes him sick.

"Why do you care so much?" You ask defensively. You don't really want to discuss your relationship with your drug dealer. He's not really your friend, you're just another sale.

"Because you seem like a nice girl. You deserve better. You should have someone who treats you right, not like a piece of meat." He says, putting a hand on your shoulder.

"What? Someone like you?" You scoff, rolling your eyes.

"I didn't say that. Just...someone that isn't Benji. You don't look very happy when you're with him." He says as your turn comes up to fill Benji's cup. You take hold of the nozzle, squeezing it to release the beer.

"I'm fine, Eddie. He's just...older. More mature. You wouldn't understand." You insist, shrugging his hand off of you. You know Eddie is right, but you don't want to admit it. Because all that would do is make you look like a fool. Until Benji came along, not a single guy gave you the time of day. And now, you've got a boyfriend that's pretty hot, if not a bit rough around the edges. But he protects you, and keeps you from feeling lonely. Who else is gonna do that for you? No one.

"I guess I wouldn't." Eddie says sadly, realizing this conversation is going nowhere.

"You makin' a move on my girl, Munson?" Benji asks as he walks over to you. He puffs out his chest a little, wrapping an arm around your waist aggressively. His movement jostles you slightly, making you spill a little bit of his beer on yourself.

"Not at all, man. Just looking for a sale." Eddie says, averting his gaze from you. His words sting a bit, even though you weren't really responding well to him trying to help you.

"Oh, well, in that case. We'll take a little somethin', whatever you recommend, man." Benji chuckles, reaching into his pocket for some cash.

"Cool. Got a twenty there? I think this will enhance your evening." Eddie exchanges the money for a small baggie of cocaine, putting on his signature smile. You know it's all for show, his eyes read with intense worry for you during the transaction.

"Thanks, dude. See ya later." Benji replies as he slips the baggie in his pocket, before moving to turn around and lead you both back inside.

"No problem, man. See ya, Y/N." He calls to you, and you just nod. You feel Benji's hand press further into your hip, squeezing you to the point where it really hurts. You know you're in for it now, Benji always loses it when you talk to other guys. He takes you into a bedroom in the house, shoving you inside while he slams the door. You stumble forward in your heels, catching yourself on the edge of the bed. You swivel your body to sit on the mattress, finding Benji glaring at you furiously.

"What have I told you about talkin' to other guys?" He growls, his teeth clenched together as he speaks.

"He was just trying to sell to me, Benji. I swear. Nothing happened." You say sheepishly, fearing what he might do next.

"Fuck that, 'nothing happened'! I saw him touch you, when you're mine. You whoring around on me, hm? Fuckin' the freak behind my back? Answer me!" Benji shouts, getting all up in your face. You flinch at his proximity, your heart pounding in your chest as you wait for him to punish you.

"No, I'm not! I told you nothing happened!" You shout back, immediately regretting it once the words leave your lips. Your mouth claps shut, eyes widening as you realize you're really gonna get it.

"Don't fuckin' talk back to me, Y/N!" Benji yells even louder, slapping you across the face. His palm stings against your cheek, making tears spring from your eyes. Your own hand comes up to feel where he hit you, and you meet his furious stare again. He grabs hold of your chin, squeezing your cheeks together. He brings himself as close to you as possible, his hot breath rushing over you. It stinks of beer, and your nose would crinkle if you weren't so scared. "You are MY girlfriend! You got that? You don't talk to anyone else!" He shoves you backwards in his grip. Your head lands on the blankets, bouncing at the force. "You don't look at anyone else!" He slaps you again, harder than before. You yelp in pain, wanting this to stop. "You don't even THINK about anyone else!" He climbs on top of you, weighing you down. "Say it! Say that you belong to me!" He commands, his eyes wild despite his drunken state.

"I belong to you, Benji! Okay? Only you!" You say frantically as tears stream down your face.

"Damn right! I'm gonna show you, make you see that you're mine!" He lifts himself slightly, undoing his belt. He starts to shimmy his pants down, reaching for your skirt. You don't want this, you don't want him. Not like this.

"Benji, stop!" You cry, trying to push him away. But he's heavier and stronger than you, holding you down with one arm while he pushes your skirt up. He pulls down your panties, letting them gather around your ankles. "Benji! I don't want this! Stop it!" You pound your fists on his chest, wanting him to stop. But he doesn't listen, he just keeps getting ready to take you as he pleases. You keep crying for him to get off of you, hoping someone will hear you scream over the loud music that's flooding the house.

"You're mine, Y/N. I'm gonna show you." He says darkly, looking at you with a sickening grin. He yanks his boxers down, and you see his half-hard cock flop out. You try to kick him away, scratch his arms, anything to stop this. But it's no use.

"HELP! PLEASE! SOMEBODY HELP! BENJI, STOP IT! I DON'T WANT THIS, I SAID NO! STOP!" You scream at the top of your lungs, tears blurring your vision as you kick and squirm with all your might. Benji takes his dick in his hand, bringing it towards you. This is really gonna happen, he's going to rape you and there's nothing you can do. "BENJI, PLEASE! STOP IT!" Your screams only grow weaker as you realize you're utterly helpless. No one can hear you, and no one would care if they did.

"Stop fucking screaming and take it! You're mine! No one is gonna get in my way!" Benji shouts at you, just barely brushing his length against you. The feeling makes you want to vomit, your stomach tensing in warning. He's just about to shove himself into you, when the door slams open. Of course he's too drunk to remember to lock it.

"Hey! I'm pretty sure she told you to stop!" You hear a familiar voice, before Benji is suddenly being hurled away from you and across the room. Benji smacks into the wall, slumping to the floor. You see Eddie standing before you, his eyes burning with fearsome anger. "Are you okay?" He asks, quickly throwing a blanket on top of your legs to cover you up. You pull your clothes back on under the covers, thankful that nobody seemed to see your most vulnerable area on full display. You notice the music has stopped, and a gaggle of heads is poking into the doorway of the room.

"I'm alright. Thank you, Eddie." You say frantically, standing up to run to him. You bury your head in his shoulder, sobbing uncontrollably.

"You fucking whore, I knew you were sleeping with him." Benji slurs from the floor, struggling to get up. He hit his head pretty hard when Eddie pushed him. But you don't mind, he had it coming. His fucking skull can crack open like an egg for all you care.

"Shut up, Benji. You're a fuckin' lowlife, you know that?" Eddie retorts. He's far from afraid of the man crumpled on the floor before him.

"Takes one to know one, Munson. Fuckin' asshole, I'll kill you!" Benji roars, clumsily lunging towards the both of you. Eddie moves you out of the way, taking all of the impact on your behalf. His back meets the wall hard, and Benji starts wailing on him. "Fuckin' freak! Stealing my girl! I always took you for a faggot, guess I was wrong!" Benji screams as he punches Eddie again and again. He lands blows on his nose, his jaw, his eyes. Eddie grunts with every hit, and blood gushes from his nostrils.

"Benji, stop it! Leave him alone! Stop it!" You shout helplessly. You turn to the other party goers who seem to be enjoying the show. "Do something! Call the cops, anything! Help him!" You beg and plead, and a couple guys from the basketball team come in to pull Benji off of Eddie. Eddie collapses, spitting out a mouthful of blood. You fall to your knees before him.

"Eddie, are you okay?" You ask, his eyes drifting open and closed in a daze. "Eddie, stay with me. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry, this is all my fault!" You can't stop crying, you're absolutely hysterical. You pull him up to lean against the wall, tapping his cheek to keep him awake. Even while wasted, Benji’s really done a number on him.

Eddie’s eyes meet yours, already swelling up from the bruising. "It's okay, Y/N. I'm gonna be fine. Calm down." He says weakly, reaching out for your hand. You give it to him, and wait with him until the police arrive. Everyone besides the kid whose house this is and anyone involved in the fight quickly disperse before the cops show up. You certainly don't blame them, you're all underage and consuming various substances with no parental supervision. You give your statements, and the paramedics tend to Eddie's wounds. Benji is taken away in handcuffs, and the cops insist you won't have to worry about him anymore.

You stand outside the house with Eddie once the emergency services leave, taking hold of his hand again. You look at his beaten face. The swollen eyes, the cut on his eyebrow, his busted lip and nose. He looks awful, and you feel even worse. "Eddie, I'm so sorry." You say, getting teary-eyed again.

"For what?" He asks, doing his best to raise an eyebrow. When you don't answer, he sighs. He gestures for you to sit with him on the front steps, and you do. "Y/N, he was gonna hurt you. I couldn't let him do that. You were literally crying for help, was I supposed to ignore that? Should I have let him rape you?" He asks, only answered with more silence. You don't know what to say, part of you feels like you had it coming. That you deserved to get hurt. He sighs again, trying his hardest to look deep into your eyes. "What Benji did was wrong, okay? You didn't deserve that, nobody does. I stepped in, which was the right thing to do. I know you're upset that I got hurt, and I'm flattered, really." He laughs lightly, groaning in pain soon after. "But it's worth it, because I kept you from getting hurt. So please, don't feel bad for me. I'm used to getting my ass kicked anyways. At least this time was for a good reason. Promise me you won't blame yourself?" He asks sweetly, putting a kind hand on your knee.

"I promise." You nod, wiping away the streaky tracks on your face. "Thank you, Eddie. I don't know what I would've done without you. I couldn't get him off me. I tried to kick and scratch him, I-" Your mind quickly goes back to that place, images of Benji forcing himself on you playing at shutter speed through your head.

"Y/N, you did everything you could. It's okay." He puts his arm around your shoulders, so much more gentle than Benji did. You can't help melting into his touch a little, your heart fluttering at how sweet he's being. You assume he's just being nice, calming you down from your hysterics. "You mind giving me a ride home? I can't see shit right now." He asks politely.

"Of course, Eddie. It's the least I can do." You help him stand up, holding his hand as you walk to your car. You'd driven yourself and Benji here tonight, as his license is suspended. Benji drives like a maniac, speeding, running red lights and stop signs, almost hitting pedestrians. God, the more you think about it, the more you hate yourself for wasting a single second on a guy like that. You drive Eddie to the trailer park, going so far as to walk him to the front door.

"Wow, such a gentleman!" Eddie jokes, making you both laugh. You stand on the steps for a moment, awkwardly wondering what to say next. You're about to speak, when Eddie breaks the silence. He clears his throat. "Well, I should get inside and ice my face." He gestures awkwardly at the inside of his home.

"Yeah, yeah." You nod, rocking back and forth on your feet restlessly. "Thank you again, Eddie. I don't know how I'll ever repay you, honestly. I know it's cheesy to say, but you saved my life tonight." You lean over to press a kiss of gratitude to his cheek. Eddie blushes at the contact, his stomach filling with butterflies.

"No need, sweetheart. Just doing the right thing. But, um, we should...hang out sometime." He stumbles over his words, which you find really cute. And the name he calls you, 'sweetheart', brings a flare of color to your own cheeks. You might just be starting to like him...a lot.

"Yeah, we should. You're a good guy, Eddie." You smile, deciding that now is the time to finally leave him be. You hate to be alone right now, but you don't know him well enough to ask to come inside. There will surely be other times for that. "I should get going. But I'll see you on Monday, okay?"

"Sure thing, Y/N. See ya there." He waves goodbye, walking inside as you head back to your car. Unexpected feelings at the thought of seeing you again begin to bloom inside his chest. Dangerous feelings that can only mean one thing. He's starting to like you...a lot. Fuck. Leave it to Eddie to fall for a 'damsel in distress'.

When you see Eddie again, he looks a lot better than he did on Friday night. His eyes are far less swollen, mostly circled with dark purple bruises, and he's only got small bandaids on his cuts now. "Hey, look at that. You survived the weekend." You say with a giggle as you greet him in the hall. You've been thinking about him nonstop the last couple of days. How brave he was in defending your honor, how unbelievably caring he acted towards you. That's the way you want to be treated from now on, anything less isn't good enough for you anymore. You've learned your lesson, no more asshole guys.

"Looks like it. How are you feelin', Y/N?" He asks, giving you a smile.

"I'm okay, much better than I thought I'd be." You reply, leaning against the lockers. Eddie mirrors you, his shoulder brushing against yours.

"Good. So, uh...are you busy tonight? I figured we could hang out...if you want to." Eddie curses himself for being so jumbled, but he can't help it. He couldn't stop thinking about you all weekend, replaying you kissing his cheek over and over. It was so soft, and warm. He can't help wanting to get to know you better, and to maybe earn some more of your affection.

"Yeah, we can do that. Your place or mine?" You ask casually, keeping your cool. But on the inside, you're absolutely freaking out. Eddie may have used the words 'hang out', but it feels like he's asking you on a date.

"Yours, if that's okay. My place is kind of a mess." Eddie replies happily. He's over the moon that you said yes. He doesn't necessarily mean it as a date, he doesn't want to push you into anything. But he figures you two can get to know each other better, be friends first. And even if that's all you end up being, he'll still consider himself a very lucky guy.

"Sounds great. Meet up with me after school?" You ask, solidifying your plans.

"You got it." He smiles, just as the bell rings. "Well, I'd better get to Click's class. See you after, Y/N."

"Will do, Munson." You give him a wave goodbye, before heading down the hall to your own classroom. You spend the entire day counting down the minutes until you get to bring Eddie to your place. Time can't move fast enough, and you find yourself frequently staring at the clock to will the hands to move quicker. But you have no such luck. The final bell rings, sweetly releasing you for the day. You practically skip down the halls, getting your stuff from your locker before heading out to your car. You find Eddie leaned against it already, waiting for you.

"Hey, Y/N. You ready to go?" He greets you, waiting for you to unlock the door.

"You know it!" You reply, a bit too eagerly if you're honest with yourself. You both get in the car and make the short drive home, and you lead him inside. "My parents work late, so we have the place to ourselves for a few hours." You inform him, making your way to the kitchen. "You want a drink?" You ask after opening the refrigerator, pulling out a couple beers.

"Uh, sure." Eddie says, leaning against the doorway while you pop the caps off. You hand him one of the beers, and you both head upstairs to your room. You plop down on your bed, patting a spot beside you. Eddie quirks an eyebrow at you, wondering where this is going.

"Relax, Eddie. I don't bite." You say jokingly, hoping to put him at ease. You're not planning on anything in particular to happen, it would be too soon to try to jump his bones right now. Plus, you don't think you're ready to rush into a new relationship. What happened with Benji was really scary, and you need time to build up trust before letting a guy into your heart again.

"Sorry. I just...don't exactly get invited into the bedrooms of teenage girls very often. It has a certain connotation to it, I guess." Eddie replies with a light laugh, mentally kicking himself for jumping to conclusions. Obviously you're not going to try to fuck him. You probably won't try to fuck anyone for a good while after what happened.

"Oh, we could go back downstairs if it's too weird. I'm just more comfortable in here, it's the only space at home that's really mine." You offer.

"No, no. It's okay, I'll get my damn mind out of the gutter." He chuckles, before taking the spot you've left for him. He takes a swig of his beer, hoping to calm his stupid nerves.

"Good. I'd hate for you to get the impression that I'm easy." You reply as he swallows, making him choke slightly. You can't help giggling, though it was a bit rude to go there.

"I promise you, Y/N. I have no intention of thinking of you in any insulting way. Like I've said before, you're a nice girl." He says through a cough, wiping a dribble of beer that's spilled out onto his chin.

"I know. I'm not so sure I agree, though." You reply sadly, before taking a long drink from your own bottle. You know you should take it easy, you're kind of a lightweight. But being around Eddie, and potentially becoming vulnerable around him, makes you very nervous.

"Why's that?" Eddie asks, putting his hand on yours as it sits between your bodies.

"I mean, I was going out with a guy like Benji, who's a total asshole. He was awful to me, to everyone, really. And his 'friends' are just as bad, but they're also mine by association. I drink, I do drugs, I have sex. I skip class, I lie to my parents about everything, and my grades are pretty awful. What about that is good, Eddie?" You ask him seriously, unable to hide how you truly feel about yourself. You're everything your parents claim is what makes a lowlife, though they have no idea you do any of it. You've kept Benji a secret from them, and pay one of the computer geeks to change your report cards every semester so your parents don't flip out. And you come up with excuse after excuse to cover up the parties and other forbidden places you sneak off to.

"Y/N, you do realize that none of that makes you a bad person, right?" Eddie asks, becoming a little sad himself at seeing you in this new light. You shake your head, you don't believe him one bit. You feel heat build behind your eyes, tears threatening to spill out. "I know you probably won't believe me, but I honestly think you're one of the best people I've ever met." Your eyes meet his, and he can see you're about to call bullshit. But he silently asks you to just listen, taking full hold of your hand this time. "You're pretty much the only one who doesn't treat me like shit at school, and you aren't unkind to anyone else either. Even when Benji and his lackeys pick on people, you never participate. Most people go along with the crowd, but you don't. You do what you know is right, Y/N. Everyone makes mistakes, or hides things from their parents to avoid disappointing them. But it doesn't define you."

"I appreciate you saying that, Eddie. Really." You sniffle, you hadn't really thought about it that way before. You suppose, if anything, Eddie knows better than anyone that regardless of what others think, your character says more about you than anything else. People think he's just a dumb drug dealer who plays weird fantasy games. But he's a whole lot more than that. He stands up for others when no one else will, especially the geeky kids like him that need it most. You down the rest of your beer, blinking a couple tears down your cheeks as you swallow.

"You want another?" Eddie asks, reaching for your empty bottle.

"No, I'd better not. I've probably had too much already." You say as the slight buzz begins to run across your brain.

"There's no way you're a lightweight with how much you went back to the keg over and over on Friday." Eddie scoffs, taking your bottle from you to toss away in the small trash can in your room.

"That was all for Benji. I usually don't get to drink at parties or hangouts, at least not enough to have any sort of tolerance. Just one of the ways he liked to control me. He sure as shit got me high off my ass when he wanted me to be 'up for it', though." You say bitterly. You sigh loudly at the annoying thought, falling backwards to lay halfway on the bed. Your legs dangle off the edge still, toes barely grazing the floor.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I didn't know." He can't help feeling personally responsible for Benji drugging you for sex. He knows damn well that the substances used for such a thing came from his stupid metal lunchbox. He wishes he could take those transactions back, keep you from getting taken advantage of in such an awful way.

"It's not your fault. At least I know your stuff is safe. Other dealers around here love to lace their shit, and fuck knows what would've happened if I bought from them instead." You say it like it's nothing, perhaps shutting yourself off from the idea that Benji has already done what you were so afraid of last weekend. You don't want to talk about it anymore, or even think about it. The hours of clarity after separating yourself from your abusive boyfriend have repeatedly brought so many terrible experiences to light. You're not sure how much more of it you can take.

"I wish you would've told me, Y/N. I could've done something so much sooner." He lays down beside you, scooting a little closer now.

"Yeah, and gotten yourself busted in the process." You retort, finding his suggestion ridiculous. It's not his responsibility to take care of you, he's not your boyfriend. "Can we talk about something else?" You say abruptly, desperate to change the subject.

"Of course. But I'm always here to listen if you ever do want to talk about it. I am your friend now, after all." He gives you a kind smile, which you attempt to return as your lip trembles. "Oh, sweetheart. C'mere." He almost whispers, pulling you into him as carefully as he can. He doesn't want it to look like he's making a move on you, he just knows you need a shoulder to cry on. You let him encapsulate you in his arms, burrowing your head against his chest as you begin to sob. Neither of you say anything else for a while, just laying awkwardly in your bed as you cry. Eddie strokes your back with his hand in the most platonic way possible.

After a bit, you start feeling a little better. You poke your head up, not realizing just how close you are to Eddie. You look deep in one another's eyes, your heartbeats picking up at the proximity. You both know it's stupid, idiotic, even. But you find yourselves wanting to kiss each other more than anything in the world. Your breath fans hotly together, and you start to meet each other in the middle. But just before your lips can touch, you hear a key turning in the lock downstairs.

The front door opens, and you hear your parents walking into the house. You stop what you're doing immediately, shooting up in bed as you lose your romantic moment. "Shit. Get up. I'm not allowed to have boys in my room." You say hurriedly, wiping your face and shooing Eddie out of the room. You make it look like you were just showing him where the bathroom is, and your parents buy it. They always do. Perfect little Y/N would never have a boy in her bedroom. Only whores do that. You tell them you're just going to drive Eddie home, heading outside with him once more.

The drive over is silent, and charged with unresolved tension. Neither of you dare to speak, not yet. You aren't really sure what to even say. You sure as hell didn't intend to almost dive head first into what you can only imagine would be a very messy relationship. You escort Eddie to his trailer again, and it's here that you finally speak. "So, um...about earlier..." Eddie starts.

"Yeah, uh...I was just feeling vulnerable. But I don't want to lead you on, I just can't get into another relationship right now." You practically vomit the words out, wanting to shut this down before it gets too far.

"Oh. Yeah, no, that's- fine." Eddie replies awkwardly, trying to give off the impression that it doesn't bother him. That couldn't be further from the truth. But he knows you're right, it just isn't a good idea.

"I'm sorry, Eddie. I don't mean to play with your feelings or anything like that. But I enjoy hanging out with you, and I'd like us to be friends." You really do mean what you're saying. If the timing was different, you would definitely pursue things further with him. He's everything you want in a guy, the total package. But it's not what you need. What you need...is time...and a friend.

"I understand completely, Y/N." He replies kindly, nodding in agreement. "Hey, look. You should go home and rest, 'kay? And I'll see you tomorrow." He suggests, needing some time of his own to figure out what he's gonna do with all these goddamn feelings he's built up.

"Okay. Goodnight, Eddie." You say as you turn to leave, you can't help feeling like you've upset him. You know he would never say, but you know how guys are. Even the nice ones don't handle rejection in the best ways. You just really hope you haven't blown your chances at having a real friend for once.

"Goodnight, sweetheart." He says, almost too quiet for you to hear. It makes your heart ache, the softness of his voice as he utters the words. You know without a doubt that you've hurt him now. And you wish you could take it back.

The next day goes just as you expect it to. You try to talk to Eddie before class, and he's nice enough. But he keeps the conversation short, eager to get away from you, it seems. You knew this would happen. He stuck out his neck for you, and you rejected him. And now, he doesn't want anything to do with you. You try not to take it personally, but it definitely stings. So you do the only thing you know how. You shut yourself off, and focus on finishing this year and the next. You focus on all the freedom you'll have once you graduate. No parents, no teachers, no assholes. Just you, working for a living, doing whatever you want.

And that's exactly what you did. You kept your head down, stayed out of trouble. You did most of the job for Eddie, avoiding him at all costs. Again, if you happened upon each other, you kept things pleasant. Neither of you blamed the other for how you felt, but it was too awkward and weird between you to try to keep a good friendship going. And of course, you got separated even further when you graduated in 1984, and he got held back the first time. It's strange, it seems like that was a lifetime ago. But being in Eddie's presence for this long makes it feel like only yesterday.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Eddie asks, worried that being in proximity to him might get you hurt or killed.

"Eddie's right. The cops are looking for him, it could make you look like an accomplice." Steve adds, crossing his arms.

"But we can't just leave him here all alone. After what he's been through? No way." You stand your ground. "Look, you guys have parents and other people that would worry about where you are. I don't. My folks moved away after graduation, I live alone. I'll stay with him, I'd want someone to do the same for me." You turn to Eddie, giving him a knowing look. He nods, understanding what you're referring to. The others find this nonverbal communication odd, but set it aside for the time being.

"Okay, fine. But please, be careful. Use the walkie if you need anything. We'll bring you guys food tomorrow, and we can swing by your place to get you some clothes." Robin says, holding out a hand for your keys. You give them to her, and take a seat on an old wooden crate in the shed.

"We'll be alright. We've got an oar and a broken bottle to defend ourselves with." You quip, taking the walkie talkie Dustin gives you. The others say goodbye, and you wish them luck in finding out what's causing the chaos this time. You sigh once they leave, realizing how awkward this is actually going to be. You both sit in silence for a while, listening to the crickets chirping outside. You don't know what to say, or if Eddie even wants to talk at all.

"Thank you. For staying." Eddie breaks the silence, speaking quietly. His eyes meet yours for a moment, before pulling away.

"It's the least I can do, Eddie. I kinda owe you for the favor you did for me." You reply from across the room. You suppose it's best to keep your distance. Not just because of your past history, but Eddie's been jumpy to say the least.

"And here I thought you were just dying to see me again." He chuckles, mostly joking.

"It is nice to see you again, I've missed my friend. I wish it were under different circumstances, though." His face falls slightly at your use of the word 'friend', and you can't help feeling bad about it.

"Yeah, well. Life's a bitch, I've learned that the hard way." He says solemnly. "You can come closer, if you want. I don't have the plague, ya know." He says in a roundabout way to ask you to comfort him. "I've still got a couple beers left, too. On the table, there." He gestures at them, the glass glinting in the moonlight that peeps into the windows. "Fuck knows we could use 'em."

You retrieve the bottles, bringing them over. You sit down next to Eddie, and he pops the caps off the beers. He hands you one, and you take a small sip. You notice his shoulder brushing against yours as he longs for some form of contact. Not necessarily in a romantic or sexual way, he just needs comfort. Any sliver he can get, if you'll supply it to him. "So, um...how are you holding up?" You doubt he'll have a good answer for you, but you don't know what else to say.

"Not well. I keep seeing...her, every time I close my eyes." His voice shakes as he speaks.

"I'm sorry, Eds-" You start, when he cuts you off.

"'Eds'?" He questions, giving you an odd look. No one's called him that before, but he kinda likes how it sounds coming from your lips.

"Yeah...is that okay?" You ask, waiting for Eddie to laugh at you or something. You don't really know why you decided to give him an impromptu nickname, especially now. But it suits him when you really think about it. He smiles at you, nodding his head.

"It's fine. Kinda cute, actually." He blushes, just like the night you drove him home all those years ago. He clears his throat, pushing away the mushy thoughts swirling around his head. "Anyway, what were you saying?" He nudges you, pulling you out of your own mind.

"Oh, right. I'm sorry that you had to see that happen. It sounds awful. Is there anything I can do? Maybe I could....distract you?" You suggest, wanting to help him calm down. He's still plenty on edge from last night's events, flinching at every little sound outside.

"Distract me...how, exactly?" He asks, wondering what you mean by that.

"I dunno, we could play a game, or talk about something besides supernatural shit." You shrug your shoulders.

"What kind of game?" He presses further, liking the sound of that.

"Um...maybe, 'twenty questions'? Or 'truth or dare'?" You suggest while you rack your brain for other ideas.

"Nah, what else?"

"Ooh! I know, how about 'never have I ever'?" You say excitedly.

"Sure, we can do that. Uh, sorry if I sound like an idiot here. But, how do you play?" He asks sheepishly.

"It's a pretty popular party game, Eds. You've seriously never played it before?" You ask with a laugh, unable to believe it.

"Y/N, the words 'popular' and 'party' don't exactly describe anything I'd be a part of. I typically only supply to those things." He smirks.

"I suppose you're right. Well, I'll tell you the rules, it's very simple. Basically, you say a phrase, like 'never have I ever...gone streaking', or something like that. And then whoever has done that thing takes a drink. Easy enough?" You watch him observe you with adoring eyes as you explain how the game works. You've never had someone look at you this way before, and it's certainly a welcome gaze.

"I think so. You go first." He nudges you again, an action you could easily get used to.

"Alright, lemme think. Never have I ever....stolen something." You start, taking a small sip from your own drink. Eddie takes one too, no surprise there.

"What did you steal, if you don't mind me asking?" He inquires, surprised that you've actually done something even remotely criminal before.

"A pack of gum and some lipstick, really lame stuff. One of the assholes I used to hang with dared me to do it." You chuckle at the thought. You were so terrified of getting caught, you returned to the store on your own later that day to put the stuff back. "What about you? Or is it too many things to count?"

"Surprisingly, no. It's more than you, of course. I've got a reputation to uphold." He laughs, before continuing. "Let's see...I've stolen a traffic cone, some beer, cigarettes, a few candy bars, a pocket knife, and a Playboy magazine. Not all at once, mind you. I'm not that good."

"Well, safe to say I'm impressed at your thieving skills, Eds. I'd expect nothing less. Okay, your turn." You pat his thigh, keeping the game moving along. His eyes freeze on where you touched him. It's innocent enough, but it's made his skin flare with simmering desire all the same.

"Right." He meets your eyes again, focusing on the task at hand. "Never have I ever...had sex on the first date." You both drink again, smiling as you bring the bottles to your lips. You spill a little bit of beer on yourself, it dribbles down your chin. "Nice one, sweetheart." Eddie chuckles after swallowing.

"Sorry, I'm totally accident prone." You giggle, wiping the yeasty liquid from your face. You notice he called you 'sweetheart' again, just like he did way back when. It appears not much has changed between you after all.

"It's alright. Your turn again." He says with a grin.

"Hmm, never have I ever...fallen in love." Only Eddie drinks this time, and his eyes widen at this discovery.

"You've never been in love, Y/N? I don't believe that for a second." He scoffs.

"Never, Eds. I've liked people before, and really liked someone once. A long time ago. But it never got far enough to turn into love, much as I wanted it to." Eddie doesn't know it, but you're definitely talking about him. You avert your gaze, not wanting to give yourself away.

"Who was it?" He asks curiously.

"Why don't you tell me yours?" You retort. You don't want to admit this to him. Not now, not yet. Once again, the timing is all wrong. You pick at the label on your beer bottle, unable to hide the unease on your face.

"Y/N, please? Pretty sure I'm a wanted man at this point. Humor a fugitive, will ya?" He pleads, placing his hand on your thigh. You tense at his touch, feeling rather warm in your cardigan. Given your change in body language, he's assuming you were referring to him. He sure as hell was thinking of you when he took his last sip in the game.

"Okay, how about we both say it at the same time?" You suggest, as that might make it easier for you both to just spit it out already. He's right, he may not have a lot of freedom left. You might as well come clean.

"Fair enough. Count of three?" You nod, looking at him intensely. He mirrors you, his heartbeat picking up with yours. The familiar butterflies swarm again, fluttering in a most ticklish way in the confines of your bellies."'Kay, one...two...three." He counts, and your nerves reach a mountainous peak once the final number leaves his lips.

"You." You and Eddie blurt out simultaneously. Gasps leave your mouths in sync at the confession. It's not all that surprising, really. It's more that you're both in disbelief of the other truly liking you the way you wish they would. Your shared admission hangs in the air for a moment, the silence becoming deafening the longer you refrain from saying anything. You both make a couple attempts to speak, opening your mouths, then snapping them shut again. Your eyes wander around his features, taking in how handsome he looks. His doeish eyes, his supple lips, the slope of his nose, and the apples of his cheeks. He does the same to you, wondering if now would be a good time to kiss your gorgeous face. He leans in hesitantly, almost backing away a couple times. You realize what he's doing, and this time you have no intention of denying him.

"Go ahead, Eddie. It's okay." You say softly, your breath fanning in his face from how close you two are. He takes the leap of faith, gently pressing his lips to yours. Your eyes flutter shut at the contact, he feels even softer than you imagined. Eddie takes his time, slowly, repeatedly, pulling away and going back in to feel every centimeter of your mouth with his own. You meet his every move respectively, opening and closing your lips at all the right times. His hand comes up to cradle your head, his large fingers slipping into your hair. You let out a small moan into the kiss, and this chilly spring night is quickly heating up. You grab the lapels of his jackets to pull him closer, and he smoothly maneuvers you to straddle his lap without even looking. You keep hold of his clothes, wanting to be as close to him as you possibly can.

You stay like this for what feels like forever, the only sounds now are the quiet smacking of lips and the occasional moan from either of you. This is easily the best and hottest kiss you've ever had, none prior to this even come close in comparison. It's so warm, and tender, loving, even. Your heads feel light, overcome with passion. Neither of you want to stop, but unfortunately it's getting a little hard to breathe. Eddie breaks away, exhaling shakily at how mind-blowing that was. "Holy shit." He says, opening his eyes to look at you. He's totally awestruck, never in his life has a kiss completely blown him away.

"Yeah, I second that." You reply, just as dazed as Eddie. "I can't believe it took us this long to do that. And during a crisis, of all things. All that wasted time...I'm such an idiot." You lament your foolish decision to turn Eddie away those years ago, wishing you could turn back the clock and get it right.

"Don't say that, sweetheart. I might have felt hurt back then, but I understand why you didn't wanna get involved with me. I wouldn't have either if I was in your shoes." He says seriously, he doesn't want you to beat yourself up over it. "And I may not have a lot of time, but we can try to make the most of it." He adds, cupping your cheek as he gazes at you in adoration.

"You make it sound like you're dying or something." You can't help laughing nervously at the idea.

"Well, we don't know what's going on just yet, so I might." He looks down, hating the thought. But he has to be realistic. Whatever got Chrissy could easily get him, too. He feels himself start to cry, hot tears rolling down his cheeks. He meets your eyes again, his bottom lip quivering in fear. "I'm so scared, Y/N. I-I don't wanna die." He says helplessly, falling to pieces before you.

"Hey, hey. Don't think about that right now, okay? We're gonna do everything we can to keep that from happening. I promise." You hold his face with your hands, giving him another kiss. His arms wrap around you to hold you tight, and you sense some tears of your own joining the mix. You don't want anything bad to happen to Eddie, especially not now. He's such a good man, he doesn't deserve any of this. If you could, you'd swap places with him. To let him go free while you take the fall. But you can't. All you can do is be here for him, and try to love him as long as you're able. You pull back, and you wipe away his tears and yours. You look him over, noticing just how tired he looks. "Did you sleep at all last night, Eds?" You ask in concern.

"No. I couldn't, I was too afraid. I didn't want...to see her again." He says quietly, his eyes darting away in shame.

"It's okay, maybe it'll help to have me here. But you need to rest, baby. You'll only feel worse if you don't." You get off his lap, looking around for anything you can use to make a place to sleep. You take the bunched up tarps out of the boat, layering them down on the warped wood floor. You find a couple life jackets, which you can use as pillows. You set everything up on the other side of the shed, sheltered away from the windows. That way, if anyone comes by, they're less likely to see you. Eddie watches you work from the floor, realizing what you're doing. He feels a little bad for sitting on his ass, but it's like he's paralyzed into this spot. He'll need your help to move away from it. You return to him, holding out your hands. "C'mon, it's time for bed." You say softly, a kind smile on your face.

"Thanks." He takes your hands, and you lift him up. The force and weight of this motion sends you stumbling backwards. You almost fall back into the water, your stomach dropping at the impending plunge. But Eddie manages to catch you by the waist, his strong arm wrapped around you swiftly. "Careful, princess. Wouldn't want you to get soaked." He says with a grin, setting you upright.

"Thank you, Eddie. You're my hero." You reply in a cheesy tone, giving him a warm kiss on the cheek. He blushes again, which is something you can't get enough of. "You're very cute when you do that." You giggle, poking one of his rosy cheeks.

"I dunno 'bout all that, sweetheart. I'm sure I look like hell right about now." He chuckles dryly, carding a hand through his long hair.

"You look handsome as ever to me, Eds. Now, come on. You have to get some sleep. You'll feel better in the morning." You lead him by the hand to your makeshift bed. You both lie down, the tarps rustling loudly as you try to get comfortable. You face each other, finding yourselves admiring one another again.

"Well, it's certainly not the Ritz. But it'll do." Eddie jokes, but his face quickly changes afterwards. "Can I...hold you, Y/N?" He asks sheepishly, hoping it's not too weird. He knows you kissed just a little bit ago, but he's still unsure how to navigate the situation. Something he'd left out earlier is that you are the only one he's been in love with. His feelings are tangling up his insides, leaving him clueless about what to do, or not do.

"Of course you can, baby." You reply softly, rolling over so he can spoon you. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you into him. Your back connects to his chest, your body heat radiating to be shared between you. He's so warm, and he smells amazing. Like tobacco and leather, the scent encapsulates you in his embrace.

"I like it when you call me that, by the way. It's really nice, givin' me butterflies and shit." He smiles against your neck, his breath fanning hotly against you.

"And I feel the same when you call me 'sweetheart'. I could get used to that." You practically whisper. You can feel Eddie's body relaxing as he cuddles you, his heart beating steadily as opposed to racing like it was before. His breaths go in and out of his lungs nice and slow. He's finally able to stop freaking out, at least for a little while. "Goodnight, Eds."

"Goodnight, Y/N." He barely gets the words out, his eyelids falling heavily as sleep takes him in an instant. The adrenaline of the last twenty-four hours has come to an end, his body shutting down into heavy slumber. It takes some time for you to join him, you're not nearly as exhausted as Eddie is. You've only been involved in all this for a short period of time, plus, you're worried that something might happen to him while you're asleep. And that possibility scares the shit out of you. You lie here for who knows how long, lost in thought. You're not sure when it happens, but you do eventually fall asleep. You know this, because you're woken up by Eddie screaming in his sleep as the sun comes up.

"Jesus christ!" You shout when you hear him scream right in your ear. You shoot up in your finagled bed, looking over to see what's happening. Eddie's still asleep, but his mouth is wide open as he lets out the most awful screams you've ever heard. He must be having a horrible nightmare, seeing Chrissy dying before his eyes. "Eddie! Wake up! It's just a dream, wake up!" You shake him as hard as you can, gently smacking his cheeks. But it's not working. His body is thrashing, and his wails only get louder.

You have to act, and fast. You get up, going to the water. You kneel down and scoop some in your hands, rushing back to Eddie to drop it on his face. It lands cold and harsh, shocking him awake. His eyes snap open, and he scurries backwards, his back hitting the wall of the boathouse. He looks around frantically, whimpering and gasping for air at the same time. The water glistens on his face, soaking into the top of his shirt and the hair around his cheeks and forehead. His eyes land on you, realizing he's not in that awful nightmare anymore.

"Fuck!" He exclaims, his chest heaving as he rests against the wall. "Thank you...for that." He says, out of breath. "I...couldn't...wake up." He huffs the words out between gasps. You sit beside him, taking hold of his shaking hand. His head falls onto your shoulder, water dripping through your cardigan.

"Are you okay, Eds?" You ask, knowing full well it's a dumb question.

"I am now." He swallows hard, the horrific images quickly dissolving as you continue to touch him. "Are you alright, angel? I'm sorry if I scared you." He feels awful that you had to see him scream like that, and it's kinda embarrassing for him to be so uncontrollably vulnerable.

"I'm okay, baby. I was just worried about you. Did you sleep alright besides the nightmare?" Another stupid question, no doubt.

"Surprisingly, yes." He says warmly, nuzzling into your neck. His wet face shocks your flesh from the cold, making you squeal.

"Eddie! That's freezing!" You laugh, which just eggs him on to rub himself all over you. The water transfers onto your skin, soaking into your clothes to make you shiver. But he quickly warms you back up with hasty kisses on your throat. You stop squirming, allowing yourself to relax into Eddie. His mouth feels so good against your skin. His teeth nibble a spot just below your jaw, leaving a light purple hickey behind. "Eddie." You sigh, wondering how far this is going to go. His hand cradles the other side of your head, holding you up as you melt in his touch. His tongue soothes the bruise he's marked on you, and he drags the wet muscle down further to make another near your collarbone. He bites a little harder this time, making you moan. A familiar pressure begins to build between your legs. You rub your thighs together in an attempt to relieve it, but it's not nearly enough.

"Gettin' hot and bothered, baby?" Eddie asks lowly, smirking at you brushing your legs against each other. He wonders how wet you are, and if you'll let him see for himself.

"Uh-huh. Your lips feel really good, Eds. C'mere." You pull his head up, and smash your mouth onto his. You're becoming so hungry for him, it's unreal. You let yourself fall backwards, taking him with you. He grunts at the sudden movement, positioning himself to lay over you. His knees rest on either side of yours. Eddie bites your bottom lip, making you gasp. He slips his tongue in to roll against your own, heating you both up further. Your hands slip into his thick locks, tugging on them lightly. He moans down your throat, such a beautiful sound.

Eddie's just about to ask if he can move things further, perhaps to second base. But you both hear a car pulling up in the distance, which makes you freeze in place. "You heard that, right?" Eddie asks, quickly going into panic mode again. You nod, listening for any other noises. The car comes to a stop outside of Rick's house, and you hear doors opening and closing. It could be Dustin and the others, or someone else who is certainly not a friend. Eddie climbs off of you, going back to the corner to grab his bottle. You take the other oar from the wall, and you gesture at him to check the windows, carefully. He nods, taking one side while you take the other. The angle of the windows isn't optimal, as you can't make out who's approaching the door to the boathouse. You both brandish your weapons, ready to fight if it comes down to it.

You can feel your heart pounding in your ears, your body ready to attack any enemy that comes your way. The door swings open, screeching on its rusted hinges. In comes Dustin and the rest of your friends, carrying bags of snacks and your overnight bag. "Delivery service!" Dustin says, making you flinch.

"Jesus! Thank fuck it's you guys." You say with a sigh of relief. You set down the oar, and Eddie puts the bottle away again.

"Long night, I take it?" Robin asks, setting your stuff down on the table where Eddie's old wrappers and bottles are.

"That's putting it lightly." Eddie says sarcastically. "It was a helluva lot better than being alone, though." He looks to you, giving you a kind glance. You smile back brightly, unable to help yourself.

"Well, eat up, you two. You've missed out on some stuff." Steve says, quirking an eyebrow at how friendly you seem to be getting with Eddie. You go over to the table to see what your friends brought. There's nothing very nutritious, but you're not gonna complain. Food is food. You pull out a box of Honeycomb cereal, and two Yoo-Hoos. You bring them over, plopping down beside Eddie. You hand him his drink, and start working on opening the cereal box.

"Thanks, sweetheart." He says without thinking, making your eyes bug out. His utterance of the pet name draws bewildered stares from the others.

"What did you just say?" Dustin questions, he's only heard Eddie use such a term of endearment when talking about his guitar. He suspects you two got up to...something last night.

"Uh...nothing. It was just a slip. Right, Eds?" You pipe up, trying to cover your asses. You don't want your friends to know that while you were technically supposed to be looking after Eddie, you were making out with him instead.

"Yep. Totally. My bad." Eddie agrees. He's on the exact same page as you. He realizes how embarrassing it would be for everyone to know you're essentially hooking up when there's an interdimensional killer on the loose.

"Uh...what is that?" Robin chimes in, pointing a finger towards your throat. Shit.

"What's what?" You reply nervously, swallowing hard.

"That mark on your neck, it looks like a hickey!" She exclaims, her surprise morphing into a sly smile. Eddie, you dog. She thinks to herself. The looks on your faces spell it all out loud and clear, there's no mistaking it. You two are officially in a budding, trauma-bonded romance.

"No it isn't!" You scoff, rolling your eyes. You're laying it on way too thick, stumbling over your words all the while. "I-I fell! Yep, tripped on the...- crate over there and landed on the edge of the boat. Right, Eddie?"

"Yeah, I saw it with my own eyes." He insists, nodding before taking a sip of his drink.

"Hold on, you just called him 'Eds', a second ago...what the hell is going on here?" Steve crosses his arms, furrowing his brow at you both. The others follow suit, holding similar looks of distrust and smug knowing. They certainly don't hold it against you, you're two attractive young people in a distressing situation. It's only natural, really. Scientifically proven to happen, in fact. "C'mon, out with it. We're burning daylight here, and we've got other things to do besides wait for a confession from you...lovebirds." Steve demands, using his babysitter powers to force you to yield.

You sigh, rolling your eyes again. "Ugh, fine! We kissed last night...and we were making out a few minutes ago." You admit, keeping your eyes trained on the floor to avoid making visual contact with anyone.

"We've got, uh...history. We'll just leave it at that." Eddie adds, mirroring your bashful stance. You both feel like scolded children, even though you know you've done nothing wrong.

"Alright, cool. Moving on, we've got some good news, and we've got some bad news." Dustin says. You manage to get the box of cereal open, and you and Eddie dig into it hungrily. Eddie's far more ravenous than you, taking large handfuls and munching them down like a starved animal. You feel a little sorry for him, but at least he's able to eat now. "How do you prefer it?" Dustin asks, looking to Eddie.

"Bad news first, always." Eddie replies with a mouthful.

"Alright, bad news. We tapped into the Hawkins PD dispatch with our Cerebro, and they're definitely looking for you." Dustin states. Eddie's face falls slightly, and no doubt yours follows suit. "Also, they're, uh, pretty convinced you killed Chrissy." He adds as an afterthought.

"Like, a hundred-percent convinced." Max interjects. Eddie's head follows each of them as they speak, his fear dialing up again.

"And the good news?" You ask, needing there to be a sliver of hope in this shit sandwich.

"Eddie's name hasn't gone public yet. But if we found out about him, it's only a matter of time before others do. And once that gets out, everyone and their shallow-minded mother is gonna be gunning for him." Robin says, making your heart sink.

"Hunt the freak, right?" Eddie asks, a frustrated sadness lacing his tone. Typical hick town, making the weirdo into a scapegoat.

"Exactly." She replies, understanding full-well the gravity of the situation. She knows better than anyone what it's like to be on the outskirts of society, having to hide away for fear of being cast out entirely.

"So..before that happens. We need to find Vecna, kill him, and prove your innocence. That's all." Dustin says, as if it's the easiest plan in the world.

"That's all, Dustin? That's all?" Eddie parrots back, finding the concept utterly ridiculous. You put a hand on his shoulder, drawing his eyes to you.

"We've done crazier shit and pulled it off before. I'm sure we can beat this, too." You say calmly, and he lifts his hand to rest on top of yours. He nods, trying to keep himself grounded.

"She's right. Delusional as it sounds, we've been through this kind of thing more than once. Well, they have. Me and Y/N have been through it once. Ours was like, more human flesh-based, and theirs were more smoke-related." Robin explains, which makes Eddie pull an odd face. She shakes away her poor explanation skills, finishing her point. "Bottom line is, collectively, I really feel like we got this."

"We usually rely on this girl who has superpowers. But, uh, those went bye-bye, so..." Steve trails off, realizing it probably wasn't all that helpful to say.

"So, we're in kind of, uh...more of a...brainstorming phase." All four of them form the odd sentence together, finishing one another's thought clumsily.

"There's nothing to worry about, though." Dustin splutters, which does nothing to put either you or Eddie at ease. You look at each other, and then back to them. They can't possibly be serious. Suddenly, you hear sirens wailing in the distance.

"Quick, you two hide!" Robin instructs. You and Eddie go to your corner where the tarps are laid about, before hopping into the boat and pulling them over your heads. You're kinda squished together under here, but you refuse to leave Eddie's side. You notice him breathing heavily again, putting your hands on his shoulders to calm him down.

"Hey, hey. Look at me, okay? We're gonna be fine." You whisper, just in case any officers are coming around right this moment. He does as you ask, nodding silently. He slows down a little, focusing on your beautiful face. The others peek out the window, watching the cops roll on by down the road, totally bypassing this hiding place.

"Well, that can't be good." Max observes from across the shed.

"Hey, guys. We're gonna go check out what's happening. Just stay here, okay? We'll radio you an update." Steve says, leading the others out to his car. They shut the door behind them, leaving the two of you alone.

"You good?" You ask Eddie, speaking at a normal volume now.

"Yeah, yeah. Just felt like a close call." He presses a quick kiss to your lips, further tuning himself back into his regularly-scheduled brain function. "We should probably stay under here for a bit, right? Just in case?"

"We can do that. You wanna...keep kissing me?" You ask, as it seems your affection tends to calm him down. Not to mention you really like the way his mouth connects to yours.

"How can I possibly say no to that?" Eddie says with a small smile. He kisses you again, slower this time. Your eyes close instantly, and your hands wander over to get lost in his hair. Things are heating up quickly, your lips and tongues playing with one another hungrily. Eddie pulls back for a second, like he wants something else. "Y/N, can I...?" He trails off, his eyes flicking to your chest. It really isn't that hard to say 'Hey, Y/N, can I touch your tits?', he knows that. But as it has been stated before, you make him nervous, in the best possible way.

"You can do anything you want, Eds. I want it all." You reply, finding his sheepish asking very adorable. Eddie doesn't seem the type to be so unsure of himself when it comes to...whatever this is. He must think you're pretty special if his typical devilish charms fly out the window whenever he tries to make a move on you. He still seems unsure, so you take hold of his large hands, bringing them up to your chest. "Is this what you want, baby?" You ask, already knowing the answer. He nods, not saying another word as his palms hover a centimeter away from your breasts. You manipulate them to finally cup your tits, immediately letting out a quiet moan.

"You're so beautiful, sweetheart." He says, his eyes widening slightly at the fact that he's made it to second base. He feels like a fuckin' virgin, it's kinda embarrassing that he needs you to lead him like this.

"You're pretty handsome yourself, Eddie." You say breathlessly. Eddie's hands squeeze the swells of your chest, drawing more lustful noises from you. Everything he does to you feels so good, it's been a very long time since you've been touched by anyone. Even yourself.

"You think it's safe to get out of the boat now?" Eddie asks as this position is a bit uncomfortable.

"I think so. C'mon." You move to stand up in the boat, almost falling over again. Eddie catches you, and you both step back onto solid ground. The second you do, he leads you backwards until you meet the wall. He gets a bit of his confidence back, wanting to take you by surprise. "Is someone coming out of their shell?" You ask slyly as his body presses into yours.

"Maybe a little." He replies with a smirk, moving to slip off his jackets. He tosses them onto the table beside you. You take off your cardigan, letting it fall on the floor. Your hands grip the hem of your shirt, slowly lifting it up to expose your torso. Eddie watches wordlessly as you reveal your body to him, his eyes following the shirt as it goes further upwards. You pull it over your head, letting it join your sweater. You're left standing in your bra, and his eyes practically pop out of his head. "Damn." He exhales, you're even prettier than he thought you'd be.

"Like what you see?" You ask with a sly smile.

"Uh-huh. Can I see more?" He requests, unable to hide the neediness in his voice. The tone of it sends a dark thrill through you, and you reach behind your back to unhook your bra without a second thought. The straps fall loosely from your shoulders, the cups no longer holding your breasts up. The garment slips away, adding to the pile quickly gathering on the floor. "Fuck, Y/N." Eddie murmurs, taking your bare tits into his hands.

"Eddie." You gasp at the cool metal of his rings meeting your supple flesh, your nipples hardening from said cold and your arousal. He grips them firmly, rolling the sensitive buds between his thumbs and forefingers. He gazes at you in admiration while he works, giving you a cheeky grin. Your mouth sits agape to let out dulcet sounds, and you can't stop staring into his beautiful chocolate-hued eyes.

"Does this feel good, sweetheart?" He asks, eating up every little sigh and moan you let out for him. His cock is straining against his jeans, aching to feel you in every way possible.

"Mmhmm, you're very skilled with your hands." As much as your brain has begun to melt, you want to keep up with his mischievous nature. It's been so long since you've been able to play with someone in this way, and you're sure Eddie is more than up to the task.

He chuckles darkly, leaning in to speak in your ear. "I think you'll find I'm very skilled with my mouth, too." He bites your earlobe, drawing a low moan from your lips. "Mmm, your noises are drivin' me crazy, princess. Makin' it hard for me to take my time with you." He says hotly as his mouth travels downwards. Eddie nibbles harshly on your throat, leaving yet another hickey in his wake. Satisfied with his work, he goes even further downward. He kisses the swells of your tits, and the valley between them, every inch of skin he can reach.

"Feels so good, baby." You sigh blissfully. You look down at him as he worships your chest, becoming unbelievably wet with every passing moment. He swirls his tongue around your nipple, before taking it between his teeth. "Fuck, Eddie." You whimper as your hand takes hold of his head. He smirks against you at your reaction, he can't get enough of your little moans and curses. He wants to keep touching you, pleasing you, in every way you'll let him. He'll use whatever time he has left to make you come undone, over and over until he drops fucking dead. If he has any choice in the matter, he might as well go out with a bang, literally. "I need more, Eds." You plead, instinctively bucking your hips forward in an attempt to get your pussy closer to his cock.

"You got it, angel." Eddie pulls away from your chest, tugging his own shirt over his head. You take a moment to drink in his bare torso, and it's certainly a sight to see. His chest and arms are slightly toned, his long hair brushing against his shoulders. Sexy tattoos adorn his pale skin, and a guitar pick hangs on a chain around his neck. A light trail of hair runs down the middle of his chest, disappearing into his jeans. He looks like a goddamn rockstar, if you're being honest. Eddie finds your gawking amusing, letting out a small snicker at your shameless ogling. "Have I rendered you speechless, Y/N?" He asks while you feel him up, dragging your palms along his arms, up and down his chest.

"You're really fucking hot, Eddie." Your eyes flick to his, displaying pure, unadulterated lust. You don't bother to think, all you know is that you want him. Now. You grab him by his belt buckle, whipping the both of you around. The motion takes him by surprise, and you practically slam him up against the wall. He grunts at the impact, and you smash your lips to his before he can respond. His hands grab at your ass, holding you as close to him as possible. You shove your tongue in his mouth to tangle with his, and you clumsily fumble with his belt. You stop kissing him so you can see what you're doing, breathing heavily as anticipation builds between you. You get the belt open, and unzip his jeans with ease. You reach your hand inside his pants, underneath his boxers to take hold of his dick.

"Shit, you don't waste any time, do you?" Eddie asks through a groan. You pump his length in your hand, brushing the bead of precum around his tip with your thumb.

"No, I don't. We can take our time later. But I want you to fuck me, now." You say in a sultry tone, stroking him a bit firmer and faster than before. He moans again, which is music to your ears. "I like how much noise you make, Eds. It's very sexy. Now, you wanna help me with the rest of my clothes?" You ask in an undeniably tempting way, trying to push his buttons.

"Sure thing, princess." He pants, bringing his own hands around to unbutton your jeans. He slides the zipper down its track, hesitating before going any further. "Can I feel you, sweetheart?" He asks sweetly, which makes your heart flutter. He's been quite the gentleman this whole time, always asking permission before doing anything to you. It's highly attractive, no other guy has done so before. Not like this. It's always been one 'yes', which somehow grants unlimited access to your entire body.

"Yes, baby." You answer softly, waiting for him to touch you where you need him most. Eddie slowly slips his hand under the waistband of your panties, and his fingers graze your soaked folds. "Oh, fuck." You gasp at the contact. You knew you were turned on, but this is a whole other level. Everything he does to you feels better than anything you've experienced before. His fingers drag along your soaked cunt, feeling every part of you he can reach.

"You're so wet for me, angel." Eddie observes in amazement. To know he makes you feel so strongly, it's enough to drive him mad. You're still touching his dick with your hollowed fist, and he decides to push two fingers inside you to rev you up further.

"Eddie." You whimper as his digits meet your g spot easily. He curls them to press on it at a slow, torturous rhythm.

"You like having my fingers inside you?" Eddie asks, his own breath hitching as you squeeze him a little harder. You're both doing everything you can to rile one another up, so you'll go absolutely wild on each other when you finally connect.

"Yes, but I think there's something else I'd like even more." You press a warm kiss to his lips, giving him your best 'fuck me' eyes afterwards.

"God, you're so needy. No patience at all." Eddie teases with a smirk. He takes his hand away from your pussy, and you release his cock from your grip. You remove the rest of your clothes, and he does the same. You're left standing naked in front of each other, taking a moment to soak in every little detail. You notice his dick standing at attention, the head swollen and red, leaking pre-release onto the wood floor. Eddie looks you over, becoming very interested in the drips of your arousal running down the insides of your thighs. He wonders how you taste, wanting to make you scream his name while he eats you out.

"Is there something you want?" You ask slyly, realizing he's staring at your crotch like a feral animal.

"I know you said you want me to fuck you, Y/N. But I would really like to go down on you first. I bet you taste amazing, and I just want to make you feel good." He speaks honestly, with no effort to hide his desire. He's practically begging to give you head, which only makes you want him more.

You step closer to him, placing your hands on his chest. You lean forward to speak into his ear, nice and low so he listens to every word. "Knock yourself out, baby. What kind of woman would I be to deny a wanted man?" You take his earlobe between your teeth, just as he did to you earlier. You keep it brief, though, you imagine Eddie wants to get things moving. "Lead the way, Eds." You back away slightly, smiling as you wait for him to put you in position. His hands meet your hips, and he carefully maneuvers you around to the table. He pushes everything off of it, various objects landing on the floor. He lifts you onto the surface, spreading your legs wide while he stands between them. His palms roam up and down your thighs, inching so very close to where you're longing for him to touch.

Eddie's eyes wander over your gorgeous form, committing every last detail to memory. The curves of your waist and hips, the length of your legs, your hands holding tight to the edge of the table as you wait for him to begin. Your chest rising and falling faster than usual, tits shifting slightly from the pace. And to top it all off, the sex-drenched expression spread shamelessly across your face. Expectant eyes meeting his, pleading with him to appease your every desire. "You have got to be the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, Y/N." He says sincerely, breaking the charged silence.

"You really think so?" You ask curiously. You've never really found yourself all that attractive. After Benji, the guys who look your way have been few and far between. And even then, they never think you're anything special. Deep down, you know your worth doesn't hinge upon your desirability. But it's hard to remember that when society relentlessly pounds the idea into your head.

"I know so, sweetheart. You're perfect." Eddie replies, not an ounce of doubt or dishonesty in his voice. He means every word that comes out of his mouth, and you love him even more for it.

"I dunno about all that, Eddie." You say as your eyes flick downwards. Here you are, completely naked, fully displayed to him. And you're still questioning his liking of you. His hand comes up to gently lift your chin to look at him. His intense gaze burns into you, like there's a roaring fire ignited behind his eyes.

"I'm serious, Y/N. I know I don't know everything about you, but I know enough. Enough to say that I care very deeply for you, because you're an amazing person, in every way." You don't know how he does it, but he's somehow managed to sound even more sincere than before. You're utterly captivated by him. You've never had anyone speak to you in such devotional ways, until now.

"You're pretty great, too, you know." You say with a light smile, color warming your cheeks again at his saccharine declarations. You wait for him to make his next move, keeping your eyes on his all the while. Somehow, sitting here like this, with him standing before you while his thumb and forefinger gently hold your chin, is possibly the most comfortable position you've been in for who knows how long. Eddie slowly leans in, pressing a feather-light kiss to your lips. Your eyes flutter closed, and you enjoy every second of this until he pulls away just as gingerly. "Damn, you are way too good at that." You say breathlessly.

"So are you, baby. Takes two to tango, right?" He grins at you, allowing his less serious side to take hold. You've waited long enough, and he wants to pleasure you in every way you deserve. He picks up where he left off, trailing kisses down your body that set your insides ablaze. Shoulders, chest, stomach, before moving on to your thighs. He kneels in front of you, putting your knees over his shoulders.

"Mmm." You moan as he gently nips on your sensitive flesh, sucking tiny love bites closer and closer to your core. He's still taking his time, wanting to warm you back up before he finally tastes you. His eyes watch your dripping hole, his cock twitching as he can see how wet he's making you with every inch of progress. Your nails dig into the worn wood of the table, scratching deeply as you resist the urge to shove your crotch in his face. You want him to fuck you with his mouth more than anything, and it's taking everything in you to be patient. He finally sets himself before your glistening pussy, his hot breath fanning over it. Eddie lets his tongue slip out of his mouth to make first contact with your clit. "Fuck!" You cry out, your hips jolting upwards off the table.

"Settle down, angel. I'm just getting started." He coos, before dragging the wet muscle along your slit.

"Sorry, it's been a while." You say with an embarrassed laugh. You force yourself to relax, keeping yourself seated on the table as he works on you. It's harder than you expected it to be, every little lick and suck feels too fucking good.

"You taste so sweet, baby." Eddie praises, before resuming his work. He's pulling out all the stops, wanting to make you lose control. He flicks against your clit, and alternately shoves his tongue into your cunt to push on your sweet spot. His pattern and pace varies wildly, never giving you a chance to predict a single move.

"You're really good at this, Eds." You sigh blissfully, thoroughly enjoying everything he's doing to you. You feel an intense knot growing within you, tightening further with every passing second. Eddie's building you up unbelievably quickly, though you figure it wouldn't have taken much to begin with. You emit an endless stream of expletives and calls of his name, your body gradually coating itself in steaming sweat.

"Mmm." Eddie moans against you as he can't get enough of your juices flowing into his mouth. You taste like nothing of this earth to him, so fucking delicious. His dick is leaking profusely as he eats you out, your noises are driving him insane. He wants to make you cum all over his face, and soon, so he can finally fill you up with his painfully hard cock. He pushes his fingers into you again, focusing his tongue on your clit as he quickens the pace.

"Oh, Eddie. Just like that- fuck, I'm getting close." You whimper, digging your nails further into the table. You're surprised you haven't broken any off with how much pressure you've put on them. You sense your oncoming release, the telling ebb and flow of pleasurable waves beginning to collide with you. "Don't stop, baby. Make me cum, I'm almost there." You plead with Eddie to keep doing exactly what he's doing, needing just a little more to make that ever-growing knot snap. He takes heed of your desperate words, not changing a single thing for fear of denying you of your orgasm.

"Mmm." He moans into you again, watching your fuckstruck face as he gets you near the finish line. Your eyes are squeezed shut, your mouth hanging open as you make the most beautifully obscene sounds he's ever heard. Your chest heaves as you breathe rapidly, your skin slicked over with glimmering perspiration. Eddie wishes to save this image in his mind, you look like a total goddess to him at this moment. He's afraid he's not going to last, though, as he's forgotten just how arousing it is for him to go down on a woman. He's certain that the second you lose it, he'll end up falling off the edge right alongside you. He doesn't mind, however. Far be it from him to complain about getting self-satisfaction out of pleasing you.

"Just a little harder, Eds. I'm so fuckin' close." You pant out the words, needing just a little more to get what you want. Eddie grants your request, pressing his tongue more firmly on your bundle of nerves, and fingering your pussy at a harsher speed. "Perfect, right there." You whine as you're just about to cum. Eddie groans against you one last time, he can feel your walls fluttering around his digits. The vibrations from his muffled noises bring you to your high swiftly and completely. "Oh, fuck, EDDIE!" You cry out as your legs begin to shake. Your orgasm rips through you violently, and you can't control your thighs clamping around Eddie's head. You feel your release spilling onto him, and he tries his best to slurp up every last drop. You're seeing stars, absolutely flaming from the inside out.

"Fff." You hear him grunt against you, his breath coming out shakily as he cums with you. His load spills messily onto the floor under the table, some of it landing on his thighs. His hips buck upwards once or twice, he has no idea. All he knows is bliss, and he relishes every last second of it until you calm down. You slump backwards against the wall while you release Eddie's head from your iron grasp. You're absolutely spent, almost gasping for air from how mind-blowing this was. "You good, princess?" Eddie asks from the floor, as you haven't opened your eyes just yet. Your lids flutter upwards to let you look down at him. You find his chin is glistening with your nectar, and you peek down to see that he already came from the erotic display you put on a moment ago.

"Yes, so fucking good." You say sincerely, smiling down at him as your ecstasy wanes away to nothing. "I see you enjoyed yourself, too, Eds." You flick your pupils downwards, hinting at the mess in his lap. You can't help finding his position quite hot. Sitting on his knees, his own release splattered about in sticky streaks on his skin. He just couldn't help himself, you were too powerful a sight for him to handle. The thought alone makes you feel wet all over again.

"I really did. You were so sexy, and I couldn't get enough." He says from below you, and he can't help blushing when you stare at him like this. Lust burns in your eyes from seeing him all sweaty and spent from doing almost nothing at all. He's never had a girl look at him like that, and he definitely enjoys it more than one would expect.

"C'mere, baby." You say softly, beckoning him upwards with your finger. He does as you ask without a thought, standing between your legs. Eddie puts his hands on your waist, waiting for you to speak. You gaze at each other for a moment, gentle smiles sitting about your mouths. "I love you, Eddie." You utter the words so quietly, Eddie almost thinks he's imagined it. Before he can ask you to repeat yourself, however, you take hold of the back of his head to give him a tender kiss.

He's surprised you'd tell him such a thing. Sure, you both admitted to being in love with one another at some point in time last night, and the fact that you've just engaged in sexual activities can also help argue the case. But for some reason, hearing it out loud makes it sound...illogical, irrational. He considers the possibility that you're only saying it because he might die, but he doesn't think you'd be so cruel to lie about your feelings. Honestly, all this contemplation is making his head spin. At this point, he doesn't give a fuck if you mean it or not. He'll take your affection hand over fist as long as you continue to give it to him. You release his lips from yours, allowing him time to respond. "I love you too, Y/N. I've been waiting years to hear you say that." He says sincerely, as he hopes your own words are just as genuine.

"I wish I'd said it a long time ago. You're the only man that's ever made me feel this way. And I know we're pretty young, but I don't think I'll ever feel like this about anyone else." You stroke his hair as you speak, it's so soft, if not a bit damp from what you just finished doing a minute ago. You can't help shivering a little as the cool March air chills your sweat.

"You cold, angel? We should put our clothes back on." Eddie says as he notices your teeth beginning to chatter. He leans down to pick up all your clothes, handing your items off to you.

"Hey, Eddie?" You ask while slipping your panties on.

"Yes, sweetheart?" He looks to you, wondering if something is wrong.

"Is 'Reefer Rick' home? Or anyone, for that matter?" You question, contemplating using the house as a warmer, safer location to hide in.

"Nah, he's still in jail right now and doesn't live with anyone. Why do you ask?" He quirks an eyebrow at you.

"Well, I was thinking it might be more comfortable in there if no one's home. We could shower, wash our clothes, have an actual bed to sleep in. And it would be a helluva lot warmer in there, too." You explain your train of thought, though you wonder if he'd already thought about it.

"I hope this doesn't change how you feel about me, but I hadn't even thought of that. The jackass probably doesn't even keep the door locked." Eddie chuckles, smacking his head at his own stupidity. "But yeah, I think it's a damn good idea. We won't have to sleep on the floor, at least."

"Well, it's a good thing I decided to stay with you, huh? I'm more than just a good lay." You giggle as you finish getting dressed.

"Technically, I don't actually know if you're a good lay...yet." He jokes, making you both share a cute laugh. You gather your supplies to bring into the house, and Eddie takes your free hand in his. You check to make sure the coast is clear, there's a few rednecks that live around here, and you don't want them to see you. You make your way to the house, and try the doorknob. Unsurprisingly, it opens without a hitch. "Thank you, Rick." Eddie says under his breath, and you make your way inside.

It's clear that Reefer Rick hasn't been home in a few months. Dust covers every flat surface, and there's rotten fruit in the bowl on the kitchen counter. Some used dishes sit molding in the sink, and there's a bit of old...everything all about the place. Pizza boxes, beer cans, pints of Ben & Jerry's, other things like that. You would clean up, but it's probably best to let any passerby assume that the premises is still vacated. Plus, all you really need is a bed and a shower at the moment. "God, this place is a dump." You observe aloud at the slight odor that permeates the house.

"Yeah, looks like the maid hasn't come around in awhile." Eddie replies sarcastically, wiping one of the tables with his finger. A thick streak of dust coats the pad of it, and he scrunches his nose as he wipes it on his pants.

You try turning on the sink to see if anything will come out. And sure enough, the water flows from the faucet, plentiful and warm. "Nice, we've got water." You open the fridge, and the little light clicks on. It's full of even more nasty food, but you weren't really worried about it anyway. "And power. So shower and laundry are a go." You say with a smile, moving on to check out the rest of the house.

The heat isn't set, but it's still so much warmer than outside and the boathouse. You locate the thermostat to turn up the temperature a little, and thankfully you hear the system kick on. You avoid turning on any lights to prevent drawing attention from afar, and you find the laundry room downstairs. Underground where no one will hear the machines running, perfect. Eddie follows behind you the whole way, and the two of you strip off your old clothes in the damp basement. You've both seen one another naked, so you're not bothered by walking through the rest of the house without your clothes on. After setting the load to wash, you head back up the stairs and to the second floor where the master bedroom is. There's a bathroom inside it as well, and you let Eddie take the first shower.

While he does so, you check Rick's closet to find some clothes Eddie can wear in the meantime. There's tie-dye t-shirt after tie-dye t-shirt, at least fifty in total. They're a little big for Eddie, but they seem comfortable enough. You take out an orange and red and yellow one, setting its hanger on the bed. You open a chest of drawers, hoping the bottoms will be more in your boyfriend's size range. Lucky for you, Rick seems to be a very lanky guy who just prefers baggy shirts. You pull out some blue jeans, putting them next to the shirt. You don't bother with underwear, you know Eddie won't go for wearing another man's tidy whities. Commando will have to do for the time being.

As for you, Robin was gracious enough to supply you with some jeans, sweatpants, a couple shirts, and...every pair of panties you own. You suppose she wasn't sure how long you'll be in hiding for, and you don't have an answer to that either. Better safe than sorry, you think to yourself with a shrug. "Fuck, I really needed that." Eddie says with a satisfied sigh as he walks out of the bathroom. He's got a towel wrapped around his waist, showing off his v-line. His necklace dangles wetly around his neck, and water drips from his hair and down his front. Damn, he's hot. You mentally observe while biting your lip. "Helloooooo...Earth to Y/N." He waves his hand around, smirking at how you're staring at his body again.

"Huh?" You snap out of it, meeting his eyes and handsome smile. "Oh, was the water warm enough?" You ask as your cheeks flare red.

"Yeah, there should be enough left for you, too. Gonna warn you, it's only guy soap in there." He says casually, walking over to see what you've put out for him to wear. "What the hell is that?" He furrows his brows, pointing at the obnoxious tie-dye shirt.

"It's all Rick has, and it's only for a couple hours. Leave it to you to be picky about fashion in a crisis." You chuckle at his apprehension to wear anything outside his personal style.

"That's easy for you to say! The others brought you your own clothes!" He retorts, crossing his arms. He doesn't know how to explain it without sounding like a child. But he hates wearing clothes that aren't his, it feels...wrong somehow. The few times he has done it, he feels like his skin is crawling beneath the fabric. Because it knows they don't belong to him. It's also one of the ways he gets to express himself, and he sure as shit doesn't like tie-dye.

"I know, baby. I'm sorry. I'm sure they would've brought you something if your house wasn't an active crime scene." You're sympathetic to his distaste, his clothes should be one of the few things he can control in this situation. And wearing things that don't belong to him can't be very comfortable. You stand before him, putting your hands on his shoulders for a moment. "It'll be alright, Eddie. We have to work with what we've got, okay?" You give him a little kiss, hoping to put him at ease. He accepts your offering, grabbing your ass in large handfuls. You sigh against him, it's crazy how easily you fall into a deep pit of lust every time he touches you. Eddie pulls away, taking your breath with him.

"I suppose I can live with Rick's stoner style for a bit." He says unconvincingly, rolling his eyes.

"I appreciate you making the sacrifice." You press a kiss to his cheek, returning to your bag to see if Robin packed any toiletries for you. You find your shampoo and conditioner, an unopened bar of soap, and your toothbrush. No toothpaste, though. Maybe there's some in the bathroom.

"Shit, Robin thought of everything, huh?" Eddie says, taking a peek into your things himself while you head into the bathroom to wash up. Damn, there's a lot of panties in here. Eddie thinks, pushing the slips of fabric around to see what else lies within the bag's contents. Clothes, hair ties, lip balm, tampons. His hand recoils at finding your lady things, before noticing something else beneath them. A deck of playing cards. Well, it's not D&D, but it'll do to pass the time. Wayne's showed him a ton of card games over the years, though he can't remember the last time he played any of them.

The thought makes Eddie's heart ache. Fuck, he misses his uncle so much. And he must be worried sick about him. Does he know Eddie didn't kill Chrissy? He has to, right? Eddie can't help wondering if Wayne has even entertained the idea that he is a murderer. He comes from a broken home, suffering awful abuse, no less. Happens all the time. Lots of serial killers come from environments just like Eddie's, it's only natural to ponder if something went wrong inside his head. A few tears spring from Eddie's eyes. He wishes he could tell Wayne that he's okay (for now), and that he didn't do this. But he can't risk being found, it'll all be over for him if that happens. He wipes his eyes frantically when he hears you shut the water off, sniffing harshly to get himself together. He puts his borrowed clothes on and takes the deck of cards from your bag.

"Mmm, nice and clean and ready to get dirty again." You quip as you walk into the bedroom. You're drying your hair as you walk, another towel wrapped around your body. You bring the towel away from your head, finding Eddie standing in the little outfit you found for him. You can't help smiling at how he looks in it. The pants fit just fine, but the shirt makes him look like a little kid.

"What?" Eddie asks, curious as to why you're looking at him the way you are.

"You just look so cute, Eds." You say with a giggle, plopping down on the bed.

"I do not. I look like a total dork." He grumbles, narrowing his eyes at you.

"No you don't, baby. Whatcha got there?" You change the subject, knowing Eddie doesn't want to talk about it anymore. He seems really upset, but not entirely about the clothes. Maybe he'll tell you later, but neither of you need any more doom and gloom right now.

"Oh, um, looks like Robin packed us some entertainment. Wanna play?" He asks, holding up your playing cards. Your eyes widen when you remember what's printed on them.

"Are you sure, Eddie? Did you look closely at the package?" You ask cautiously, you don't want him to flip out.

"They're just cards, right?" Eddie looks at the box again, wondering what you're talking about. The one side looks like the typical packaging, the traditional pattern and branding. Until he flips it over to the other side. These aren't just any old playing cards, they're playing cards with naked men printed on them. "Oh." He says as his pupils enlarge. "And, uh...why do you have these?" His eyes flick to you.

"They're a gag gift from Steve. He saw them in a sex shop and thought they were, quote, 'hilarious'." You explain, rolling your eyes when you recall just how tickled Steve was by the huge cocks and washboard abs on all the men.

Eddie smiles, finding your embarrassed face rather amusing. "Oh, and here I thought you were some kinda pervert." He says jokingly, climbing onto the bed and laying on his stomach. He pulls the flap of the box up, pouring the cards out to get a closer look. "Jesus! How do you walk around with a dick like that?!" Eddie laughs, showing you the card in question.

"Jealous, are we?" You tease, opening your towel to get dressed. His eyes go to your tits immediately, his breath catching in his throat.

"N-not really, I imagine one that big wouldn't fit anyway." He says absent-mindedly, practically drooling at your naked body.

"Who's the pervert now?" You quip, reaching in your bag for the sexiest underwear you own. Red, lacey, perfect to tantalize Eddie with later. You pull them up your legs, remembering just how good they feel on your skin. You'd really splurged for these when you first bought them. It wasn't for anyone in particular, you just wanted to feel more confident in your own skin. You put your spare jeans and a t-shirt on as well, effectively hiding your body away from his gawking eyes.

"Eddie, Y/N, do you copy? Pick up guys, we've got news." You hear Dustin on the walkie, his voice crackling through the little speaker. You pick it up, pushing down on the talk button.

"Yeah, we're listening." You reply simply, releasing the button.

"There's another body. It's Fred from the school paper. Nancy was with him investigating Chrissy's death and they got separated." Dustin says.

"Oh, shit. I'm sorry, Nance." You figure they're all sitting somewhere together, hoping she heard you. You were wondering what she's been up to this whole time. Typical Nancy Wheeler, always investigating. "Is there anything else? Do you guys have a plan to find out more information?"

"Yeah, I talked to Eddie's uncle, Wayne. He says there's this old guy, Victor Creel, who committed similar murders back in the fifties. It's a shot in the dark, but I'm gonna go to the library to find out more." Nancy speaks this time, and Eddie's face falls a little at the mention of his uncle. He looks at you, holding out his hand for the walkie. You nod, handing it over without question.

"How was he...when you talked to him?" Eddie asks cautiously.

"He was...pretty shaken up. He found the body in the trailer. But he insisted that you wouldn't do this, Eddie. So he knows you're innocent." Nancy says, hoping the words offer Eddie some kind of comfort.

"O-Okay. Thanks." Eddie replies shakily, handing the thing back over to you. You notice his eyes watering, as if some amount of relief has washed over him.

"You okay, Eds?" You ask as the others haven't said anything else yet. He just nods, wiping his eyes. "Okay, is there anything else?" You ask the group.

"Yeah, the rest of us are going to try to talk to Ms. Kelly, the school counselor. Max saw Chrissy talking to her on the day she died, she looked upset. So we're thinking maybe she was seeing things, and talked to Ms. Kelly about it." Steve speaks now.

"Well, I'm glad you guys seem to have this under control. We'll be here when you have more. Be careful out there." You reply to end this conversation.

"Sure thing. You two take care of each other. And let us know if you need anything. Over and out." Dustin says finally, and the walkie clicks for the last time, for now.

"Well, that was cheery." You say sarcastically, reaching for the deck to shuffle it. You may as well move on to something else for the time being.

"At least Wayne knows I'm not a murderer." Eddie replies softly through a sniffle.

"Of course he knows, baby. He practically raised you, right? He knows you're a good person, and I'm sure he's told the police that." You put your hand over his to try and comfort him.

"I doubt they believe him, though." He says sadly, squeezing your hand slightly.

"You're probably right. But we're gonna prove that you're innocent, okay? There's no way in hell I'm letting anyone pin this on you. I'll fight off the entire local police force myself if I have to." You reach over for your purse on the other side of the bed, pulling out the small pistol you carry inside it for personal protection. Eddie's eyes widen at the sight of the weapon, you make it sound like you'll actually shoot a police officer to keep him out of jail. "And if any of the ignorant assholes in this town try to mess with us, I'll get them to back off."

"Are you serious? Why do you have this, Y/N?" He's getting freaked out again, which you don't really understand. The gun is yours, you have the proper permits for it, you know how to use it. What's the big deal?

"Eddie, relax. I carry this for my own protection, in case some asshole tries something. I've had it for years, I kinda needed it when I didn't have a lanky metalhead to fight my battles for me." You don't mean the last comment as a slight, it's just the truth. Until now, you haven't had Eddie in your life in a very long time. You've basically been on your own. Even after coming into the fold of the massive monster-fighting team, you still spend most of your time alone. And being a young woman, living in a shitty neighborhood, you need something to fend off any potential attackers.

"Okay, fine. Just...please don't shoot anyone? I don't need any more blood on my hands." He pleads, he really wants you to put the damn thing away already. Guns make him nervous, he could never imagine owning one, let alone carrying it around everywhere. He's had enough of them shoved in his face to know that they're not to be taken lightly. Such a small thing can do so much damage. One can use it to kill without a second thought.

"I'm not shooting anyone, Eddie. I've never had to actually fire this thing. It's just a deterrent, nothing more. Okay?" You put the pistol back in your purse, and Eddie relaxes a bit. "And I'm sorry for freaking you out."

"It's okay. I get why you have it. There's some pretty scary shit in this town sometimes, apparently." He ends on a dry laugh, unable to hold off on rolling his eyes. He still finds it absolutely insane that this town really has been up to some spooky shit like everyone's been saying. And now he's caught smack-dab in the middle of it. "But anyway, you gonna shuffle or what?" He slaps on a smile, attempting to lighten the mood a little.

"Yeah, what game should we play first?" You shuffle the deck, waiting for him to choose a game.

"Well, since it's a rather dirty deck, how about a dirty game?" He suggests with a devilish grin.

"Alright. Strip poker it is." You smile back, knowing exactly where this particular game will end up. It'll be a relatively short game, though, as you both only have two or three items of clothing on at the moment. But you're guessing Eddie doesn't really care how many rounds you play, as long as you find yourselves fucking like wild animals by the time it's over. You deal out five cards to Eddie and yourself, setting the deck down to see what you have. Three aces, an eight, and a six. Three of a kind isn't bad, but trying for a fourth or maybe a full house would be better. "You want to switch out any cards?" You ask Eddie as he looks over his hand.

"Two, please." He puts two of his cards down, and you give him the new ones. You drop the six, and draw one new card. And sure enough, it's another eight. A full house, that'll be hard to beat.

"Okay. Now, if I win, what will you take off first?" You ask while biting your lip. You've got absolutely no poker face, you're sure he can see how giddy you are about your hand.

"Uh, I'll take my jewelry off, I guess." He replies, cool as a cucumber. You can't read him at all, which is worrying. "And you?"

"Well, I don't think jewelry should count. But it makes us even, I suppose. And I'll take off my jeans, if you win." You smirk.

"I'd rethink that confidence if I were you." Eddie warns playfully. "C'mon, show me what you got."

"Full house, baby. I'd love to see you beat that." You say smugly, laying the cards down neatly on the bed.

"Oof, that's too bad. Looks like I get to have a second look at those panties of yours." He says as he lays down his hand. A straight flush, all hearts.

"You motherfucker!" You scoff, unable to believe he beat you.

"Sorry, sweetheart. You'll just have to get luckier next time. Now, c'mon, off with the pants. Please and thank you." His eyes flick to your lower half, waiting expectantly for you to show some skin.

"Ugh, fine!" You exclaim, undoing the button and zip of your jeans, pulling them off and tossing them to the floor. You lay back down on the bed, your red underwear on full display for him. He stares at them for a moment as you gather the cards to shuffle again. "You really like them, huh?" You ask, drawing him out of his lustful trance. You notice a bulge forming in his own pants, which only builds your anticipation for the next hand.

"Yeah, they look really sexy on you." He compliments, giving you a hungry look.

"Thanks, Eds." You deal out the cards again, and bet your shirt this time. Eddie sticks with his rings and necklace, and you play the hand out. You have two pairs, and he beats you again with three of a kind. "Dammit!" You shout in disappointment as you yank your t-shirt over your head. Your tits bounce as they're freed from the fabric, and you're one loss away from being completely naked.

"You're just all outta luck today, angel." He's feeling cocky, all he needs is one more hand to beat you. You mutter a couple swears under your breath, you're not a very good sport when you lose at games. You shuffle a third time, and deal once more.

The next two rounds thankfully go in your favor, stripping Eddie of his accessories and tie-dye shirt. You're tied now, one more round to put an end to it all. You're both holding your final hand now, having already exchanged cards. You're on the edge of your seat, so to speak, eager to see who wins this erotic game. "You wanna show them at the same time, baby?" You ask darkly, unable to hide just how aroused this game has made you. You've both been eating up every last bit of one another's flesh as it's been revealed, just waiting for the moment when you get to see more.

"Okay." He nods, meeting your anxious gaze with his own. You both place your hands down on the blanket, waiting a second to actually look at them. Once you do, you see that you've just barely beaten Eddie. He has three of a kind, whereas you have a straight. "You win, princess. Congratulations." He says lowly, wasting no time in taking off his pants. His dick slaps against his stomach, waiting for you to take hold of it. "You wanna come over here and claim your prize, Y/N?"

"I thought you'd never ask, baby." You crawl over to him on the bed, ignoring the cards spilling around everywhere. Eddie lays on his back as you prowl, stroking his cock lazily in his hand. You climb over him so your body looms above his. You lower your head to give him a kiss, slipping your tongue into his mouth a moment later. His free hand reaches up to your underwear, slipping beneath the luxe fabric to feel your soaked folds. You moan against him at the sensation. "I want you so bad, Eddie." You say breathlessly, your lips still brushing against his as you speak.

"I want you too, sweetheart. Can you take these off for me?" Eddie replies, tugging at the waistband of your panties. You nod, dragging the fabric over the curves of your ass and down your legs. You kick them away with your foot, and straddle Eddie's thighs.

You replace Eddie's hand with yours, slowly running your hollowed fist along his dick. He groans at your touch, wanting you to pick up the pace or move along to the main event. "You want me to ride you, baby?" You ask seductively.

"Please." He begs, his hands resting at your hips. You lift yourself upwards slightly, just enough to drag his tip against your pussy, spreading your arousal onto his length. His breath catches at you lubing him up, and you let out low moans as he repeatedly brushes against your clit. "Stop teasing, sweetheart. I need to feel you." He can't hide the whining in his voice, and his eyes stare up helplessly at you as you continue your tantalizing actions.

"God, I love it when you beg, Eddie. It's so fuckin' hot." You smirk at him, allowing the head of his length to slip inside your dripping cunt. "Fuck." You gasp, eyes fluttering shut. He's barely in you and he's already stretching your walls in the most delicious way. You slowly sink down, accepting every last inch of him. You bite hard on your lip, savoring the slight burn you feel from him filling you up so completely. "Oh, god." You moan with your eyes still blissfully closed. You lay on his chest as you adjust to his size, pressing your lips to his while you loosen up.

"You're so tight, angel. Holy shit." Eddie says lowly to you between kisses. He can't believe he's actually inside you right now, and you feel like absolute heaven around him. Warm, snug, and perfectly slick. He could stay just like this forever, holding you close as you're connected like matching puzzle pieces. His hands caress your back and sides, worshiping every inch of you he can reach while he waits for you to start moving.

"And you're so big, Eds. You fill me up so well." You squeeze around his length involuntarily, making him gasp.

"I really hope you're not just strokin' my ego, princess." He laughs lightly, his hands pressing firmly into your hips from you hugging his cock so tight.

"I wouldn't dream of it, darling. I'd never lie to you." You keep planting languid, hungry kisses to his mouth while you start to move. You gradually bring yourself upwards on his cock, almost letting him slip out, before sinking back down in one swift motion. Breathy moans leave both your mouths, and you repeat the action a few more times. Up...and down, up...and down, up...and down. You let out muted noises as Eddie brushes against your g spot with each landing.

"Fuck, sweetheart. You're still teasing, I can't take it." He whimpers, rolling your bodies over to take the lead. Your head rests on the pillows below, your legs spread wide with him still sheathed inside you. "Is this okay?" Eddie asks, looking down at you expectantly. He's desperate to get some real speed and friction going. But not without your permission, of course.

You reach up to cup his cheek, and wrap your legs around his waist to pull him closer. "Yes, Eddie. And please, don't hesitate to go as hard and as fast as you want."

"You like it rough, huh?" He questions with another filthy smirk. He says so much with so little, you really wish you knew how he does that.

"You seem to know me well enough, what do you think?" You tease, keeping up with his playfulness again. You enjoy pushing his buttons, hoping it'll make him go crazy on you.

"Is it so hard to give me a straight answer?" He says as he thrusts into you once. It's the perfect mix and deep and rough, just like you wanted. It steals your breath away, making your eyes roll into the back of your head for a moment. "Just tell me what you want, angel. And I'll happily give it to you." He speaks lowly in your ear, thrusting again to draw a low moan from you.

"Fuck, keep doing that. It feels so good, baby." You sigh as Eddie's lips meet your neck. He's marking you again, you're gonna look like a leopard by the time he's done with you. But you'll proudly wear love bites on every inch of your body, as long as they come from him.

"You got it, princess." Eddie picks up the pace, using the same amount of force as before. He pushes on your sweet spot over and over, which makes you all the more wet inside. He slips in and out of you so easily, your arousal dripping onto the bed with every shove into your cunt. "Shit, you're fuckin' soaked, sweetheart. Your pussy feels amazing." He groans, sending a shock of pleasure through you. His words are absolutely filthy, and his tone makes your heart pound in your chest.

"It's all for you, Eds." You moan out, grabbing hold of his back with your hands. Your nails dig into his skin, drawing another vulgar sound from his lips. Eddie continues to assault your neck as he fucks you, leaving hickey after hickey with his every moan. You're clinging to him, trying to keep him as close to you as possible as he ruts you into the bed. His body weighs heavily on yours, encapsulating you in excessive heat. But it's not enough, you want to be even closer. You wish you could crawl under his skin, to somehow fuse yourself to him and never let go. "Fuck, roll over, baby. And sit up against the headboard." You pant out, wanting to ride him like you originally planned.

"Is something wrong, sweetheart?" He asks, his face meeting yours with concerned eyes. His thrusts slow for a moment, and he wonders if he should stop altogether.

"No, definitely not. I just wanna be closer to you, Eds." You reply breathlessly, patting his shoulders to prompt him to obey your request. He does as you ask, managing to stay inside you while putting you on top again. He scoots back to lean against the headboard, and you straddle his lap in this new position. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, your chest pressing against his. "Perfect." You exhale as his tip is kissing your cervix at this angle. You press your lips to his, putting a pause on the sex for a moment. You want to take a moment to taste his mouth on yours, he's so addictive to you. "I love you, baby." You whisper to him between gentle smooches.

"I love you too, princess." Eddie's happy to return the sentiment, he can't get enough of you admiring him in such a way. His hands sit at your waist, slowly migrating downwards to grip the rounds of your ass in rough handfuls. You let out a quiet moan, your pussy flexing around his length at the aggressive action. "Fuck, Y/N. Gonna be the death of me if you keep doin' that." He whimpers. It isn't exactly easy for him to sit still with his dick encased by your soaked cunt, and you squeezing him like that makes it all the more difficult.

"You want me to start moving, darling?" You ask, biting your lip at the thrill of teasing him just a little bit more.

"Please." He says pitifully, it's taking everything in him to not thrust upwards into you right now.

"Mmm, you're so needy, baby. I'll never get over how sexy you sound like that." You smolder, before lifting your hips up to give you both what you want so badly. You allow yourself to fall back down, crying out in pleasure at the feeling of him hitting your g spot even better than before. You set a steady pace, allowing for plenty of sloppy kisses and bites being made on your bodies. You don't know where you start and Eddie ends at this point, and a roiling knot has been brewing inside you from the moment you first accepted his dick into your silk. Eddie's hands lead your hips to roll against him, and he punctuates your bounces with an occasional buck of his hips to steal your breath away. "Oh, Eddie. You feel so fuckin' good, keep doing that." You moan out, increasing your own speed to meet him in the middle. Your arousal continues to flow from you freely, making a small puddle on Eddie's abdomen.

"You're makin' a mess all over me, sweetheart. You're so perfect." Eddie praises, ramming his hips upwards to meet your every landing.

"I'm getting close, baby. Fuck me harder, faster. I need you to make me cum." You whimper the words, with no regard for just how much they affect the man moaning along with you. You feel the twisting ball inside you pulling tighter against its restraints, waiting to snap at any moment. Eddie's not far behind you, you're easily the best sex he's ever had.

"Turn around, princess. Hands and knees." Eddie commands, needing to take control to drive you both off that proverbial cliff. You hop off his lap, scrambling to get in position. He's half a step behind you, giving you a moment to grab onto the blankets before he shoves his length back into your needy hole.

"Fuck!" You cry out, and you feel Eddie's hands digging rougher than before into your hips. He hammers himself into you, the slapping of skin mixing with your obscene noises. His pelvis smacks against your ass, stinging your flesh from the force and wetness from your sweat and juices. "Just like that, Eds. Don't stop, make me cum. I'm almost there."

"I'm right there with you, angel. Your pussy is so fuckin' amazing, best I've ever had, so wet and tight and perfect in every way." Eddie's words spill from his lips haphazardly, he can barely think straight as his stomach begins to tense. You sense he's close, his movements have become unfocused.

"Cum with me, baby. I wanna feel you fill me up, claim me as yours. I can't get enough of your dick, baby. It's so fuckin' good." You allow every passing thought running through your mind to become verbalized, letting him know he's rocking your fucking world right now. Just a little more, and you'll both be in complete and utter bliss. Eddie unexpectedly snakes his hand around your front, his long fingers locating your clit to rub rapid circles around it. "Oh, god, oh, fuck!" You moan helplessly as his touch brings on the rapid buildup you've been waiting for. Your walls begin to flutter around him, signaling loud and clear that you're about to lose it.

"Fuck, Y/N." Eddie grunts, his own high taking over only moments before yours. His breath hitches, and his hips thrust into you even harder while his load shoots into you in thick white ropes. The warmth of his cum, mixed with his harsh bucking pulls you down with him.

"Eddie!" You practically scream as your thighs begin to shake. You clamp down on him, almost making him fall backwards with how mind-blowing it feels. Your vision blurs with stars, your entire body radiating with glowing ecstasy. Eddie stills inside you, allowing you time to ride out the wave of pleasure coursing through you. You collapse onto the bed, your ass in the air as you're still connected to him.

"You alright there, princess?" Eddie asks, exhaling heavily as he tries to catch his breath.

"Mmm, yeah. More than alright. That's easily the best sex I've ever had." You reply, sounding just as winded as he is. Eddie slowly pulls out of you, which proves quite the challenge as your pussy doesn't want to release him. You both let out muttered curses at how sensitive you are as he eventually removes himself.

"Shit, sweetheart. Never had anyone hold on to me so tight like this before." He says in awe, gazing at your glistening body as you still haven't moved from your awkward position yet. Your eyes are shut, your mouth letting out hot huffs of air. Your arms lay limp on either side of your head, and your legs are still spread open wide. Eddie eyes your cunt, licking his lips when he sees your mixed release oozing out of you. You're an impeccably gorgeous sight to him, and he can't resist crawling over to sample the sweet nectar currently pulsing from your slit.

"Shit." You mutter as his tongue makes contact with you. Light vibrations run against you as Eddie moans at the sweet, musky flavor you’ve created together. He continues to lick you clean, drinking up every last drop. You're still sparking from your previous orgasm, and you're dangerously close to having another. "Eddie, you're gonna make me cum again if you keep going." You warn with a whimper, which only spurs him on. He shoves his tongue into your pussy, scooping out every last bit of cum he can. The wet muscle manages to stroke your g spot repeatedly in its quest for bodily fluids, which causes another orgasm to rip through you. Stronger than the one before. "Oh, fuck!" You cry out, trembling all over again as you soak his face.

"Mmm." He groans at you giving him even more to taste, his hands grasping clumsily at your legs to hold you in place while he continues to consume you. He still doesn't stop, your pleasure building on top of itself, folding over in exquisite layers.

"You're so greedy, Eds." You sigh, letting yourself enjoy every second of his relentless appetite thoroughly. You expect to be brought to yet another high very soon.

"You just taste so delicious, sweetheart. I can't help myself." He speaks briefly before returning to his task. His statement is absolutely true, he doesn't know how he's going to eventually stop eating you out. You're like a goddamn drug, and he wishes to receive hit after hit until you tell him to stop. His dick twitches at every little sound you make in response, shining beads of his own release running down his shaft. It appears extending your pleasure has inadvertently done the same for his own.

"I'm getting close again, Eddie. I don't know how much more I can take." You whine, your legs twitching at every move he makes on you. The inevitable peak you're climbing towards is certainly going to be the strongest you've ever had, and you just know it's going to make a huge mess. You've never squirted before, but you have a sneaking suspicion that both you and Eddie will highly enjoy it.

"Just do one more for me, angel. You've been doing so well. Cum for me, Y/N." Eddie begs, before sucking harshly on your clit.

"OH, GOD, OH FUCK! EDDIE!" You're overtaken by white-hot flames, the heat consuming you from the inside out. Your entire lower half shakes violently, and you feel a massive gush of your cum splashing onto Eddie's face and down your thighs. "Fuck!" The sensation is nothing like you've experienced before. You almost feel a little embarrassed, as the only bodily function you could compare it to is...well, not something you'd want to release so easily onto another person. But all Eddie does is attempt to swallow as much of it as he can, as if he's dying of thirst. He doesn't pull away, or say anything judgmental. Clearly he knows more about this phenomenon than you, which puts your mind at ease a little.

"Damn, that was hot." Eddie says as he finally pulls away from you. The rest of your body falls onto the bed, totally spent. You've never cum so much or so hard before. Even the slight flow of air as the heating warms the house makes your cunt twitch in overstimulation. "I think we're gonna need another shower, though." He chuckles as he looks down at your juices glistening on his chest and stomach, not to mention between your legs. You made such a splash, it's not something he's personally seen very often. But, fuck he loves any opportunity to witness it.

"I second that. But I feel like I'm made of jelly now." You let out a weak giggle, groaning as you roll over onto your back.

"That good, huh?" Eddie smirks, meeting your tired eyes with his own.

"Oh, Eds. You have noooo idea." You manage to sit up, scooching yourself closer to Eddie to give him a gentle kiss. He returns it gingerly, leading you to lie down with him. He pulls you in real close, cuddling you in your radiating afterglow. You break away from the kiss, looking deep into his eyes with total admiration. He's too perfect, and this moment represents everything you've ever wanted in a relationship. True love, deep connection, not to mention incredible sex. "I wish we could just stay like this forever." You say, barely above a whisper.

"We can certainly try, Y/N." He replies, a single tear running down his cheek at your words. You both know it's borderline cruel to make such confident statements. Given your uncertain future regarding Vecna, and the police, and any potential lynch-mobs that might demand Eddie's head on a spit. But despite all of this, you want to hold onto hope. Hope that both of you will get what you once denied yourselves, what you both clearly deserve out of life. You've been through far too much in your lives. To find one another again after all this time, only to have your newfound happiness snatched away from you? No fucking way. You refuse to go down without a fight. You've beaten monsters before, and you sure as shit plan to do it again.

"You're damn right we can. I already lost you once, and I'm not gonna let it happen a second time." You speak emphatically, resolving to do everything in your power to keep Eddie safe.

"I love you so much, Y/N." He says weakly, trying so hard to keep from falling apart.

You smile calmly at him, wiping away the tears from his chin. "I love you too, Eddie. I promise we'll get through this. Together."

"Together." He parrots the word quietly, nodding his head. He has no idea what the future holds for either of you, or your band of monster-slaying misfits. But all he can do is hold onto the idea that once this shit is settled, he can have the chance to do the one thing he's wanted for far too long. To be your man, and to cherish you like the world's greatest treasure.

The end.

[gingiesworld]

I Am Not Matt

Leigh Shaw x GN! Reader

Warnings: Angst, Unhappy ending

18+ MINORS DNI

Taglist : @mothertoall2 @natashamaximoff-69 @canvascoloredin @wizardofstories @louxbloom @wandanats-goodgirl @the-ox-fan20 @ladyqueenxoxo @aemilia19 @wandaromamoff69 @mfd-101 @dorabledewdroop @marvelogic @dopeyouth @karsonromanoff @bimad @reginassweetheart @machyishere @gemz5 @pawiie @duckiekong (If you want to be added to my taglist, please DM me or comment)

Ever since Y/N had come into Leigh’s life, she had finally started to believe that she could move on, move past the grief that swallowed her whole. Y/N had always surprised her with flowers when they came home from work, took her out on spontaneous dates and even cooked her her favourite meal. Even though those gestures made Leigh see just how lucky she was to have such an attentive partner, she slowly started to withdraw herself from the relationship. The nights they would spend together between the sheets became little to non-existent, the spontaneous dates never really happened as Leigh always came up with some sort of excuse as to why she didn’t want to do it. Even when she received flowers soon fizzled out, Y/N soon started to realise that she was pulling further and further away. They barely spoke anymore, everytime Y/N would start up a conversation, Leigh would completely shut it down almost immediately.

“I’m off.” Y/N would say every morning when they saw her in the kitchen having her morning smoothie, their heart broke a little when she only shrugged. So they left without a single word off of Leigh. They spent their day working under the hot sun, wondering what had went wrong between the two of them.

“You look like you could do with a drink after work.” Jim stated as he helped Y/N by holding the plank of wood in place for Y/N to drill it into place. “Trouble in paradise?”

“You could say that.” They answered him.

“Then it’s settled, we’re having a drink and you can tell me all about it.” He told them before they both moved on to their next tasks. The day soon went by fairly quickly, work and banter with their colleagues slowly taking their mind off of their failing relationship. Soon they found themselves sitting in a booth at a bar not too far from the construction site. “So, talk to us.” Jim told them once they had their first drink.

“You know Leigh and I have been together for a couple of years right.” Jim nodded and waited for them to continue. “I think she.” They took a deep breath. “She’s pulling away from me and I don’t know how I can fix it.”

“Have you tried talking to her?” He questioned as they just nodded.

“She doesn’t even talk to me anymore. There’s no communication with her and I am trying, I am really trying to do everything I can to try and make it right and make it work.” They rambled on as they played with their glass, swirling the liquid within. “I don’t think she loves me anymore.” They whispered sadly before they downed their drinks.

“How long has this been going on for?” He asked as Y/N shrugged.

“Months.” They told him honestly. “We don’t even sleep in the same bed anymore, I know she gets out of our bed once she thinks I’m asleep.”

“Do you think she could be cheating on you?” He asked them as they shrugged.

“I don’t know.” They looked at him sadly. “I just, I love her more than anything and I don’t think she will ever feel for me the way I feel for her.”

“Well, I think you really need to make a decision, you have got to do what makes you happy.” He told them. “If your relationship is failing, and you’re the only one who is putting in all of the effort, it’s best to jump ship.”

“I was going to propose on our next anniversary.” They admitted. “I already have the ring and everything prepared.”

“I’m so sorry buddy.” Was all he could say before Y/N grabbed their wallet and left, paying the tab beforehand. They hadn’t realized the time when they had gotten home, seeing Leigh sat on the sofa, her eyes glued to the door in which they entered.

“Where were you?” She questioned them angrily. “You were supposed to be home hours ago!”

“So you finally noticed me?” They sneered as they moved towards the kitchen. “You’ve spent months ignoring me, forgetting I even exist.”

“Have you been drinking?” She questioned as they just laughed at her. “Are you cheating on me?”

“Why would I cheat on you, huh?!” They questioned angrily. “You know that is something I would never do! I don’t make promises just to break them, and I am not Matt.”

“No, you’re nothing like Matt.” Leigh seethed. “He knew me! He loved me!”

“If he loved you, he wouldn’t have cheated on you!” They yelled. “I wouldn’t ever cheat on you. You know the kind of person I am, when I want a relationship, I want to know that there is a future. You know very well I don’t do flings and I never saw you as just a fling.” They looked in her eyes sadly, reaching into their pocket. “I wanted everything with you, I wanted to build a life and a future with you. I love you so fucking much.” Their tears started to fall as they spoke. “But I know that you don’t love me, I was just a means to help you to try and forget your pain. It’s more like an addiction to you, and once I wasn’t doing it for you anymore, you go back into this place. You shut everyone out, everyone who loves, when was even the last time you spent time with your mom or Jules these past few months?”

“I see them every day.” She answered them with a scoff.

“At work!” They yelled. “You haven’t seen them at any other time! You go to work and then come home. Maybe you go to the store on some days to get you endless bottles of wine.”

“This isn’t even the point I was getting at!” She yelled in frustration, making Y/N laugh loudly.

“You haven’t spoke a single word to me, and you have the nerve to think I would hurt you.” They told her shakily. “You have no idea how much you have hurt me, you shut me out, I had no idea what I had done wrong, I was trying to figure it out for months. But, I had done things the way I have always done them since I first asked you out. I continued to do all of the things that made you smile, or laugh. I genuinely thought we had a future.” Leigh watched as Y/N had completely detached themselves from her. “I do love you, but I can’t do this anymore.” They told her as they pointed between themselves. “I can’t keep allowing myself to get hurt because I love you so much. It’s not fair on me.”

“What are you saying?” Leigh questioned, the first sound of regret in her voice.

“I’m saying it’s over.” They told her bluntly. “Us, we’re done. I’m done.” They sighed as Leigh just watched as they moved towards their room, grabbing a bag before packing some of their belongings. “I’m going to sign myself off of the lease.”

“You can’t.” Leigh whispered as she watched them from the doorway.

“I have to.” They told her as they zipped up their bag. “I need to leave before what we have kills me, and you need to move on. Just because you’re still alive while he’s not, doesn’t mean that you can’t learn to love someone new. You deserve to be happy Leigh, you just need to heal first instead of hiding from the pain.”

[ask-train-trio]

~.~.~𝐀𝐒𝐊 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐎 ~.~.~

INTRODUCTION MASTERPOST!!!!!

(ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ɪs ɴᴏ ᴀᴜᴅɪᴏ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴠɪᴅᴇᴏ, ɪᴛ ᴡᴀs sᴜᴘᴘᴏsᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴀ ɢɪꜰ ʙᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰɪʟᴇ ᴡᴀs ᴛᴏᴏ ʙɪɢ ᴏᴏᴘs)

This is an askblog for @lunozapp 's Indigo Park OCs! This post contains everything you need to know about this ask blog/AU and its characters! Context, boundaries, references etc. Asks are contextualised a little differently here, so check the blog description for the tl;dr on the context.

Check out issue 1 here!

CONTEXT:

This is DappleTilez24, also known as Tilez. He's a relatively small streamer in his universe's indigo park community, and is known for tirelessly completeing run after run, trying to beat his personal records (with.... varying sucess).

One day, he tries to speedrun a build of the game that he's never seen before...

...and stumbles across 2 MORE Rambleys than usual, much to the surprise - and confusion - of the Rambley we know and love!

Naturally, our hero Tilez is pretty damn confuddled... so he (mistakenly) asks his live chat for an explaination.

This is where YOU fantastic askers come in!

You act as Tilez's live chat. This means you don't even have to answer his queries, just say whatever you want to this interdimentional triplet of trash pandas, just like a REAL insufferable livechat would!

...within reason, of course (jokes aside, please read the boundaries)

[updated as of 04/07/24] CHARACTER REFERENCES: (in the animation i forgot twimbly's GT badges lol)

CHARACTER BOUNDARIES:

I want to make it entirely clear that i see the raccoon trio as brothers, especially with their very similar origins.

This is to say that I would not feel comfortable with any of them being shipped with eachother and I forbid the public sharing of that kind of content. If you see that kind of stuff around, please just mention this to the OP and block them if they refuse to respect it.

FURTHERMORE, please keep in mind that I ( @lunozapp ) am a MINOR. SO DON'T PUBLICLY POST NSFW/FETISH ART OF MY CHARACTERS, PLEASE AND THANK YOU.

However, shipping Twimbly, Ranglore, Rambley and Tilez with other characters that aren't related to them is fine by me (e.g. any of the original indigo characters x any of them, since they're not related)!

Again, please just keep it sfw.

ASK BOUNDARIES:

Pretty basic criteria, really. Just please don't spam the same ask over and over, I will guaranteed see them all unless this thing gets an explosion of attention out of nowhere lol

if i don't answer, its probably because either the question doesn't really fit the kind of story i have in mind for these characters or i just don't feel comfortable answering it. please respect that.

If you have a question for me specifically, start your ask with '[OOC]' (Out Of Character) or just ask me directly: @lunozapp

FURTHER INFO:

Asks are moreso used here as a prompt for conversation rather than the basis of an entire issue. More often than not there will be more than 1 ask in an issue, so going forward I'll make sure to tag everyone who asks without annonymity.

Also, please TRY to keep them as actual questions and not goofy 1-word sentences, the asks help me actually formulate a coherent premise for an issue

I don't OWN the concept of making ocs based off lore.mp4 and the GT thumbnail. if u see someone doing the same, try not to be all like 'OMG TWIMBLY/RANGLORE!!!! THEY ALREADY EXIST THIS IS PLAGARISM YOU CAN'T DO THAT!!!!!11!!11' unless it is blatant plagarism. Just use ur common sense ig

In terms of fanart/other fanworks, A MILLION THANKS IF YOU FEEL CALLED TO MAKE THAT!! The stuff i've gotten so far is genuinely so awesome, make it all you want if you feel called to do so. I'll try to reblog any fanart I find on here. If you want to go straight to asks, just click on the tag '#train trio asks'

alright, that's everything. Now what are you still doing here? Throw 'em a question! Or a compliment!! Or an insult.

or don't idrc just have fun here haha

fun fact!! putting everything together for this took a WEEK

[marengogo]

UGH!-7: … Time To Pack It All Up, Y’all!

Be Mine (English Version) - by Jimin  [Be Mine (English Version)]

[Music is a very big part of my life and I’m MOSTLY INCAPABLE of writing without music, so I just thought I'd share what I am listening to while writing this]

–🐺–🐺–🐺–

⚠️TW⚠️: I’m usually vulgar, but in this post, I might have outdone myself .

My dearest Gurls, Bois and Enbys, 

How’s everyone been doing? Are you enjoying Muse? Are you looking forward to RUN JIN? Are you ready for Are You Sure?!? Oh, let 👏🏾 me 👏🏾 tell 👏🏾 you 👏🏾, the excitement is way too real and I can’t even that's literally all the words I can fathom for now, I’m terribly sorry! That being said my Darlings, I’m afraid today’s blog will have to address a point I’m now realising that I must address, and I quite frankly assumed I wouldn’t have to, given that I am part of The Community and all. You see, there seems to be many Gladiators that wander into my neck of the woods completely misguided.  

They seem to think that my blog exist just so I can be present if one day JM and JK have sex on national TV, so that I can gloat in the faces of the Capulet enemy as I slay them with my mighty, and metaphorical, sword and bathe in their “blood” while I celebrating with fellow Montagues. Well, it is with a heavy heart, and great sadness, that I must inform you that frankly my dear, I don’t give a fuck, about none o’dat. Statements such as “Clearly JM has been single” like this Gladiator over here →  [LINK] or “JK has been fucking pussy every hour, every minute, every second” as the rest of Twitter ARMY believes or “They’ve been living together and have 100% been a couple since 2015, if you'd believe they are definitely real, why are you here...” like others on this app can really miss me, cause;

I 👏🏾 DON’T 👏🏾 GIVE 👏🏾 A 👏🏾 FLYING 👏🏾 FUCK 👏🏾.

The reason why I built this little nest in these treacherous woods is because, upon a sudden realisation, while looking at JK & JM, after careful observation and educated guessing, it started to feel like “Oh, hold on a minute … There might be something there …”. The idea that within this band that I adore there might be someone who is part of the community, like me, literally had my head implode, and not only that. It would appear that two particular members who seem to bring out the best in each other, as well as within those whom they interact with, might in fact be in this possible queer relationship, would make it even better, since we all love a stunning and powerful couple.

So yes, I am indeed here for the representation of it all. I’m not sure how many can relate, but as a minority in so many aspects of life, race, gender, sexual orientation etc, the feeling of having a fellow minority out in society who has the means and the will to live there life openly because coming out isn’t a must, we have the right also to not come out if we don’t want to as a minority is very positive and encouraging for all the rest of us, regardless of whether or not we decide to eventually come out or not. 

Though there’s obviously been many others who’d come out before Matt Bomer, he is the one coming out I will never forget. I loved White Collar like borderline obsessed. I watched it when it came out and it was my favourite guilty pleasure show before Suits. What I loved the most was watching him and Tim DeKay interact behind the scenes or during bloopers with the rest of the cast too, goofy as hell! And then in 2012 (three years in) Matt finally came out and took me by a storm, the fact that he had been able to keep his husband and three children hidden for all that time was also 🤯🤯🤯.

Once again, many others had come out before him Ricky Martin, for example, in 2010 but because White Collar was such a big part of my life, I was so ecstatic, it felt like a friend came out. It was also so great to see how much everyone on set, and the fans, were supportive and how much freer and happier he’s been since then. When Mew and Tul confirmed their relationship last month just a couple of months after Thailand legalised gay marriage y’all should have seen my face, I couldn’t stop grinning. All the speculations, the pictures, the public trips, etc etc etc. Anyways, they’ve both gone through quite some drama in the previous years, Mew in particular, so I am indeed quite happy for them.

So if JM and JK are not dating, or there isn’t a single queer person in the whole of bangtan and all have girlfriends and wives, or there are queer tannies and they are dating other queer people, or whichever other possible combinations, as long as they are happy, so will I, because I am first and foremost an OT7 ARMY and all I will always want is their happiness. I am thus afraid that you will not see me shed any tears, nor hear any miserable barking, in this neck of the woods; so~rry.

Guess I’m not packing up after all next time I’m bringing out my luggage best be for my trip to Japan …! So, in conclusion, and just as a reminder for anyone passing by as well, this has been, still is, and will always be a Possibly Queer until proven Definitely Straight safe space, as well as a space where amongst plenty other things obviously all things queer can and will be gracoiusly discussed and analysed to my discretion; You di~g?

Always respectfully yours 🫰🏾💜,

Marengo.

[siriusremusblack]

Yes I like Snape, Yes I like the Marauders (Minus James and Peter).. Sirius seems like a stupid guy. Easily manipulated. One to easily get attached to people. He seems like doesn’t think about the consequences of his actions or how they affect others. He’s just doing what James wants him to. Remus is as we all know- a coward- he similarly to Snape, was an outcast just looking for a place to belong which he got- in the wrong place- James- coupled with Sirius’ stupidity andddd we got a cowardly prefect going along with what his messed up friends want. I like Snape more than the Marauders because we actually KNOW him. We see what he’s like, why he’s like the way he is (trauma) he is a complex character not many can understand and I relate to him in various ways. (For one he is heavily autistic coded).

I do not like what the Marauders did to Snape and everyone else. I like their characters mainly because without them, Snape’s story wouldn’t have been like it was. We wouldn’t have the complex broken man we all know and love. Honestly, if anyone was apart of the lgbt community it would be Severus. Severus is always in the minority. In every way. The marauders? Maybe sometimes- like Lupin he’s a werewolf that’s a minority that is hated on, but that’s pretty much it. We can understand why Remus Lupin stayed with James and Sirius it’s because he was scared to be alone again, I honestly believe that if James was never in the picture- Remus and Severus could’ve been friends because they have things in common. Same with Sirius, but if they were friends we wouldn’t have gotten Snape’s sacrifice. Severus’ story needed the Marauders to bring the weight of his actions and later his redemption to light. The Marauders really just needed to get a life and be punished by authority figures for once and I’m not talking about detention.

I like the Marauders because they in a way- supported Snape’s redemption. Not willingly- but they sort of brought it about. But I can’t really like them more than that, because canonically? We don’t see what drives them, all we know is they didn’t like Snape for simply existing and that is a trashy excuse to go after someone for YEARS. Don’t like someone? Don’t interact. I do feel like James manipulated the others to do his bidding or at least look the other way, and Sirius was just an extremely idiotic immature guy that couldn’t look past what he wanted or take others feelings and well being into consideration. But I don’t like them more than being part of the reason Snape’s redemption is so great.

A man that was abused, bullied, harassed, SA’d, groomed into a cult and nearly killed- forced to keep quiet and just take it- rose above his trauma and pain, and made the ultimate sacrifice for the very people that hated and rejected him. Snape is the one that deserves all the love and admiration. Not the marauders. Yeah. They played their part in Snape’s story. I like them for that. But it IS Snape’s story not theirs, not Harry’s nor anyone else’s and you can’t change my mind. Snape is the most relevant character within the series whether JKR and Mstans like it or not. Snape is the one who needs the spotlight, he deserves it. It is his story.

[nerdygaymormon]

A podcast episode was recently released of Sheri Dew interviewing Elder Holland, and part of the episode involved him reacting to his "musket fire" address at BYU from 3 years ago. I responded to his remarks in this post.

I was contacted by a reporter with the Salt Lake Tribune who sent me the following: In a recent interview with Sheri Dew, Elder Holland reflected on the "musket" speech and the response he received from it. I am curious: Are they enough? Are they helpful? And what fallout did you witness/experience at the time and in the wake of the address?

I sent a 3 paragraph response, from which they chose 1 sentence. I knew they wouldn't run my whole response, but I thought I'd share on my blog what I sent.

—————————————————

One thing I hope people understand is that most minorities grow up within a culture that helps give them a sense of solidarity, a group of people that they can go back to, usually their family. There’s a sense that I’m learning to navigate being this particular minority within a larger culture. LGBTQ+ individuals are generally without this support. We have a minority experience that’s different because we generally experience this individually. It's an individual process to try to understand ourselves and our place in society. There is stress involved in recognizing yourself as an identity that separates you as an individual minority within your family and within your religion and your university. This makes queer people, especially those who are younger, vulnerable. It's important for queer individuals to know others like themselves, to find a community where they have a sense of belonging and don't have to hide, to feel hope that the future is gonna be better. We need love, support, guidance, acceptance and affirmations. It's difficult to stop hiding and come out and be authentic about our feelings and our experiences if the messages we get are that you are not wanted, you don't belong.  

Just before Elder Holland spoke to BYU faculty and staff 3 years ago, the president of BYU in Provo announced the creation of the Office of Belonging which aimed to root out prejudice of any kind on campus, and then Elder Holland gave his message that he wanted to stop all the ways queer students have made their presence known—no flag waving or protests or sharing some heartfelt words at graduation, no lighting the Y in Pride colors. That was crushing as it feels like just existing is considered problematic, that we are to remain unseen and unknown.

I know several queer individuals who've met with Elder Holland and they have shared that he is caring, he listened to them and cried with them. He is aware of the hurt and pain they experience in this church. His remarks on the podcast reflect the compassion he showed to my friends. I am glad that he acknowledges his address from 3 years ago at BYU caused a lot of pain to LGBTQ students and members. That was important. I wish that the compassion he feels for the pain of queer students and members would be turned into a desire to want a better place for us at BYU and in the Church. 

[dolliestfairy]

𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑛. ༊ ๋ 𝆹 ׅ

Slasher headcanons with Nymph!fem!reader.

the pictures above is yet again from @fairydxlll on pinterest<3

ᖭི Character's that will be include : Bo Sinclair, Vincent Sinclair, Brahms Heelshire, & Jennifer Check

ᖭི what is a nymph?

A nymph, sometimes spelled nymphe, in ancient Greek folklore is a minor female nature deity. Different from other Greek goddesses, nymphs are generally regarded as personifications of nature, are typically tied to a specific place or landform, and are usually depicted as maidens.

ᖭི Quick Explanation : you were a no human maiden that live in the forest. one time you try peeking out of your true world trying to see whats outside of it without you noticing that You've just caught the attention and curiousty of someone you shouldn't have.

ᖭི Warnings : Bo sinclair being The Bo sinclair he is. a little bit of Necrophilia [ he's fucking crazy ] reader's death in bo part. reader is naked around the woods. reader skin color is not specific. Manipulating, innocent kink (maybe?) stalking & kidnapping in brahms part. this is kinda dark. read at your own risk :) i've warned you.

ᖭི Bo Motherfucking Sinclair. ๋ 𝆹 ׅ

• first met when he was out in the town, now dont get me wrong, he actually love his town but he was just tryna break himself from his work by taking a walk in some forest outside of his town.

• after taking a walk he heard some other stepfoot coming around him from the cracks of the leaves it made. he then become wary and look around only to find the most beautiful woman he'd ever laid his eyes on. he sees you.

• you were um.. naked. but you still look pretty as fuck and it makes him overwhelmed. but his wariness is not out gone yet, so he trying to aproach you little by little step, he sees your legs were injured and he insisted to take you to the town, and yes you're accepting.

• at first, after he healed your leg injury, just like the Bo Sinclair he is, he's thinking about killing you, and after he kills you he wants to play with your body a little bit, but the second he sees you he cant help but having a symphaty once his harsh eyes meet your innocent once.

• he's trying to communicate with you, talking about you of whats happening in this town. at first he's kinda hesistant to tell you to what he have been done in this town and that he had a very very big sins and debt to pay, but after a while he manage to talk honest to you.

• and the last choice is yours, you accept him for everything he did and he let you live here. although he probably gonna use your beautiful face and he can and he WILL for sure manipulate your innocent nature to get you to do what he want you to do. but if you refuse? i suppose you're not gonna be anything but a pretty corpse.

ᖭི Vincent Vanilla Sinclair. ๋ 𝆹 ׅ

• the first time he had laid his eye on you he thinks you're one piece of an Art, A truly beautiful, masterpiece Art, and also the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.

• the first time he sees you he have a feelings that you were no human because of how much beauty you had within you.

• he's flustered by your appereance, he want to talk to you but he's worry that you'll be scared by his wrecked face :(

• and yet he still tried anyway, although he kinda tell himself that she wouldnt accept him because of what he is.

• and instead, you accept him! oh he felt like that was the moment where he could feel the happiest in him. he would literally spoil you so much with jewelry, beautiful clothes, and anything that you may like from the victims, he even made a wax sculpture dedicated to you. not to mention the paper where he had been drawing you for thousands countless time.

• and different from Bo, He would NEVER use or manipulate your innocent nature. instead he want to keep it safe from every humiliating and manipulating things that exist in this world, such as his own brothers.

ᖭི Brahms Crusty Heelshire. ๋ 𝆹 ׅ

• Heelshire mansion is located literally in the middle of the forest so it probably wouldnt be that hard to find creatures like you.

• when he was on the wall he sometimes trying to get out once the mansion is quiet and silence and him was the only person left there. he trying to see from the window in the mansion to see whats going on there and here.

• When he's peeking he sees you wandering around the forest not far enough from the mansion. you're still visible so he can still see you through.

• his curious is sparkling, he wants to know who you are but he also scared to come out of the mansion (this boy..) he tried very slowly like at first he would be more likely to just watch more often in the window, trying to search your appereance, and he also start to realize that you were no human. and yet its making the curious in him more sparkling and sparkling. until he realize that you actually wandering towards the heelshire mansion! so he waits and waits until you're close enough to get catch on.

• after he catch you, he would explain by the letters that is written next to brahms doll of who he is and why you're here and what this place are and what you have to do for him to be able to live here and bla bla bla.. some sort things like that. he really want to come out of the wall and talk to you but he's just soooooo.. unsure if he would do it or not. like Vincent he's worry that he would scare you.

• so he would just see you from the back of the wall, waiting and waiting time and trust and loyalty from you to get him sure enough that he would introduce himself face to face with you.

• its just a matter of time of when this Mr.heelshire decided to couragely enough to introduce himself right in front of you. and he hope you would want to wait patiently for that moment also.

ᖭི Jennifer Badbitch Check. ๋ 𝆹 ׅ

• this woman smh.. first meeting after she just ate one of her victims in the middle of the woods, and then she found you naked wandering around the woods.

• at first she doesnt really care and she actually dont know how to react. she was kinda flustered but also confused by your nude appereance

• but after she sees you enough and she realize you're still not recognize her appereance she start shouting "Hello!" while walking towards you.

• and of course it'll flinch you. you look around and see her walking towards you. her sudden appereance will make you scared and not to mention the blood that was covering her clothes and body and mostly the part of her mouth that was covered enough blood to drip.

• she then would ask you question like "who are you?" "what are you doing?" "whats your name?" "where do you live?" and "what kind of manic girl would wondering alone in the woods with nude body besides me?" and something like that.

• at the end she would ask you if you want to come to take a bath with her in some lake around the woods. and the answer is up to you.

• if you accept, she would be so happy, and after she finds out that you're not a human either she would be more confident enough to tell you what kind of creature she is. but if you refuse? she most likely let you go, but only for a while, because the curiousty in her is sparkling enough to make her go to the woods and search for you. and i'm telling you, this woman is a determined one.

[thedgeoftheuniverse]

FOOL. | joel miller

pairing: post outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

word count: 3.9k

warnings: mentions of alcohol and trauma (non-specific but implied), enemies to lovers, slightly shaky timeline, defensive joel, light smut, sprinkle of a praise kink minors DNI!! (Photos are not mine! Pls dm for credit/removal)

requested by the lovely @marvelstarwars :3 i literally had so much fun writing this, thank you sm for requesting! i hope you enjoy !!

If you asked him, he would swear he only admired the flora adorning your porch; he simply paid no mind to you, nor how beautiful your hands looked as you poured water over the soil or the smile you flashed at a passerby on their nightly stroll. He did not care that it wasn't directed at him.

“Do you have any clue what an asshole you are?”

“You ain't too kind yourself, sweetheart.” 

“You won't let me be! I tried time and time and time again to be nice to you, and you're just such a dick no matter what I do, and I’m fucking sick of it." 

You were not prone to such outbursts—not anymore. Or so you believed. Eight years within the walls of Jackson, an almost haven in the midst of what you genuinely believed to be Hell, and the security such a place brought changed you (or perhaps reverted you back to who you were). Ample food supply, walls strong enough to keep Infected and humans alike out, community, friendship. It was a piece of the old world, frozen in time as the rest of the Earth fell farther and farther by the day. At times, you felt guilty; you could not recall a single action, decision, or thought you had to deserve such safety. Before your arrival at the community (arrival is a strong word; you were barely alive when Maria found you and thus had to be carried to the infirmary with no say in the matter), your hands were stained with blood, all the way down to the bone, and you had all but lost any semblance of the person you were before Outbreak Day. 

It was the greatest blessing that had ever been given to you. 

You remembered how to be gentle; you remembered how to entertain small talk; you remembered how to garden; and you remembered how the sun felt shining in from your bedroom window. You remembered how to smile. You remembered that there was a time you were kind, honest, and full of so much love that you had no choice but to share it with those around you, lest it threaten to consume you. You remembered how to connect with people and that those connections did not have to be purely beneficial. You found something you buried so deeply inside your chest that you believed it to have been long dead, snuffed out with the rest of the world. 

You remembered how to be human. 

The remnants of yourself that you pieced back together into a living, breathing person were respected and well known within the community. You befriended and loved even the most stubborn of newcomers; in a short time, you became a crucial part of fostering camaraderie and a sense of home, even for those who no longer believed it could exist. You owed your life to Maria and to Jackson, and you intended to pay the debt in full.

Joel Miller was a payment you somehow missed and a giant pain in your ass. He seemed determined to brush off every attempt you made at conversation, never bothering to look at you much less respond to your questions (“Hey! How're you settling in?” “Have you made it over to the Bison yet?” “How’s your daughter doing?") When conversation seemed fruitless, you brought freshly baked bread to leave on his doorstep with a note reading: Welcome in! Hope you're settling in alright. I’m just down the street if you need anything, and the door’s always open, with your name signed at the bottom. Three days later, you noticed the bread still sitting on his porch, the note nowhere to be seen. When smaller acts of kindness did not work—you tried many: more baked goods, offers of watching after Ellie while he went on patrol, bringing him what Tommy swore was his favorite drink, even offering a haircut after you noticed his visible irritation with the curls that relentlessly tickled his eyebrow—you settled for a wave or small smile when you passed him in town, which he only returned with a rotten scowl.

No matter what you did, he seemed to hate you. It well and truly pissed you off. 

You were not prone to violent outbursts, but Joel Miller incited anger in you like no one else. This was not your first incident with him, and you doubted it would be the last.

“I never asked you for a damn thing.”  

“Fuck you, Joel.” Your blood was practically boiling beneath your skin. “Enjoy being a miserable son of a bitch. I’m done.”  

“Oh, I plan on it, sweetheart.” You would have hit him if it weren't for his pretty face. You thought for a moment that a blackened eye or broken nose might take him down a notch, but another moment of realization washed over you: Tommy would be absolutely furious if you laid a hand on his brother when he technically did not deserve it. He was already sick of your bickering; he said as much himself, and you dared not chance the repercussions of a right hook to the side of Joel’s face.

Instead, you turned on your heel and left him in the middle of the street. You could not see the pain that welled up in his eyes as you turned away from him.

You did not speak to nor look in the direction of Joel for three weeks, and he did not catch even a glance of you.

For the first three days, he felt relieved. Since his arrival, he had hardly gone a single day without seeing your face or being met with a conversation he had not the slightest clue how to engage in, and to finally be without your presence felt peaceful. His morning walk was no longer disturbed by your upbeat chatter; he went to the Tipsy Bison and had a drink in peace; he sat on his porch in the evenings, strumming his guitar and sipping on a glass of whiskey without you strolling by and listening to the sounds of the strings. He settled down in Jackson, along with Ellie, three months ago and had finally been left alone. Ellie quickly befriended the other teenagers in the commune and spent most evenings getting into what he chose to believe was harmless fun (his paternal instincts screamed at him otherwise, but he knew she deserved to be a kid. Trouble came with the territory), and for three consecutive nights, he was unbothered. Not to say he disliked Ellie or her company; she was the most important thing to him, his reason for drawing breath. He loved her dearly, but silence had become a rare and cherished treat.

On the fourth night, Joel caught a glimpse of you on your front porch. It was a warm night, though it was unusually cool to be in the middle of June. You donned a pair of shorts and a not quite fitted shirt as you watered flowers and trailing plants hanging from the banister. He took a moment to admire the luscious greenery—he could recall you boasting of your skills in gardening, having been able to save many plants from the brink of death, and offering your assistance to the farmers in Jackson when their crops began to struggle. He also recalled the fact that you refused payment in return. (If you asked him, he would swear he only admired the flora adorning your porch; he simply paid no mind to you, nor how beautiful your hands looked as you poured water over the soil or the smile you flashed at a passerby on their nightly stroll. He did not care that it wasn't directed at him.)

On the ninth night, Joel made a trip to the Tipsy Bison. He had spent far too many evenings inside the house, according to Ellie. He desperately needed a change in scenery, but more than that, he wanted a drink. He briefly recalled the last instance of you knocking on his front door, unannounced, with an old-fashioned in your hand and a wide smile on your face that quickly disappeared when he declined the drink. When he went out on his porch later that evening, he found the same drink sitting on the outdoor table with a note covering the mouth of the glass to prevent insects from contaminating the beverage. As he sat at the bar all these weeks later, listening to a cacophony of music, aimless chatter, chairs groaning, and ice clinking, he ordered the same zesty cocktail while the handwriting scrawled on that note burned behind his eyelids.

(Tommy told me this was your favorite. Gotta say, they're not half bad. Hope you get to it before the ants do. Enjoy your night, door’s always open if you need anything.

P.S – I stashed away some bourbon I found from before, it’s yours if you want it. Not much of a whiskey girl.)

He stashed it away, along with the other handful of notes you had gifted him, though he was unable to discern why. He was never a sentimental guy.

On the eleventh night, he saw you for the first time since your outburst (aside from the brief glimpse of your weekly plant watering). It was another cool-for-June night, and he reckoned an evening stroll was preferable to listening to Ellie and Dina giggling upstairs. The summer air was crisp, and a warm breeze danced across his face, making his overgrown hair tickle his eyes. He thought a haircut was perhaps in order, though part of him did not trust Maria so close to him with scissors in hand. During his struggle to keep his hair away from his line of sight, Joel managed to overlook you entirely until he was a mere four or five feet away from you.

“What're you doin’ out here? It’s late.” You turned to face him for the first time in nearly two weeks, and Joel’s heart caught in his throat. How had he never noticed? The setting sun flashed brightly across your skin, filling your face with warmth and flooding your irises, and Joel realized that you were perhaps the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. Your hair blew freely in the breeze, though somehow more elegantly than his unkempt curls, which still seemed determined to obstruct his vision. He was unsure whether he saw a moment of sympathy on your face or if his mind played tricks on him, because you surely held no sympathy for him or his overgrown mane that he quite disrespectfully declined your assistance with.

“Don't see how that’s any of your concern.” You shot back, despite your eyes having softened.

“Just curious. Tryin’ to be friendly.”

“That's a first.” He sighed heavily at your statement, though he knew there was no denying it: “Sky looks pretty.” You were being far shorter with him than he was accustomed to. He could not blame you. Joel knew he had been cruel to you, though he could not explain why. Especially now, as you bask in the setting sun’s light dancing across your skin. You looked more peaceful than he had ever seen you, and guilt rips through his chest as he realizes this is the first time he’s seen you look so serene when conversing with him—it’s the first time he’s ever seen you so disinterested in speaking with him.

The guilt weighed heavier as he realized this was the first time he'd ever attempted a conversation with you.

“Yeah.” He agreed, though he could not draw his gaze from you to pay any mind to the sky.

On the fourteenth day, Joel realized he missed you. He missed your smile, the cadence of your voice, the melodiousness of your laughter; he missed the handwritten notes; the drinks he never asked for but you somehow knew he needed; the breads that he never bothered to bring in; he missed your attentiveness over Ellie; your inquiries about his day or if the house was cool enough for him. He missed you. Scraps of lined paper with blue ink were a poor substitute.

On the fifteenth day, Joel Miller realized what a pompous asshole he'd been.

On the sixteenth, he could do nothing but hate himself.

And the seventeenth.

And the eighteenth.

Straight through to the twentieth day.

On the morning of the twenty-first day, the self-hatred gave way to pure confusion. Why was he missing your attention so strongly? Why did he care that you were actively avoiding him? Why did he turn down Maria’s offer of a haircut, and why was he hoping he would open his door to a handwritten note ending with ‘The door’s always open’? Why did he turn down Tommy’s offer of whiskey? Why could he not get you off his mind?

“Dude, you have to talk to her.” Ellie stated as she shoved down her dinner (Joel tried to get her to eat slower and teach her table manners, but residual effects of food scarcity currently make such an intervention nearly impossible).

“What?” He snapped back.

She said your name as though it should have been entirely obvious from the start: “You’ve been a wreck for days. Just talk to her, man. Say you're sorry or something.”

“It ain't that simple,” he retorted.

“Why not?” Joel did not have an answer. He opted to glare at her, and Ellie took it as a victory, but not without a final say: “You didn't like me at first either, but look where we are now.” She said, gesturing to the kitchen. Before Joel could snap back a response, Ellie was darting from the table, yelling something he could hardly discern as she ran out the front door.

And on the afternoon of the twenty-first day, Joel found himself marching to your front door with two cups of coffee and a note with what he believed to be a poor excuse for handwriting in his back pocket. As he approached your porch, he stole a moment to observe your plants up close. He could not help but admire your dedication to something that would never be able to return the sentiment. His heart was in his stomach as he sat the cups down on your outdoor table and raised a hand to knock on your door. He thinks it stopped beating for a moment when you didn't answer.

Nevertheless, he left the note and coffee sitting for you outside.

Avoiding Joel Miller was a task easier said than done. 

He had never been accused of being sociable, outgoing, or even particularly friendly, but something about him drew you in. His thick, southern drawl constantly played through your head, despite having rarely heard it directed at you. The messy curls, ever grayer by the day, adorning his head were never far from the front of your mind, nor were his soft brown eyes. It seemed the harder you steered yourself away from him, the more he consumed your thoughts. 

In all actuality, you were done being angry with him within a few days. One conversation with Tommy shed much-needed light on the internal battle ever waging in his head, and you realized Joel Miller was far unlike any other member of the community (of course, he would be livid to learn that Tommy divulged such personal details to someone Joel considered to be a stranger). You also realized your best course of action would be to leave him alone; you came to see that Joel was no different from you upon your arrival in Jackson—confused, angry, and filled to the brim with trauma you felt hopeless to overcome, but above all, you were scared. After so long of living on the road, a house felt more like a grave; the walls felt like a prison cell, and the people may as well have been judge, jury, and executioner.

You had fully given up on whatever friendship you tried to strike up with him. Joel Miller wanted nothing to do with you, and it was something you were going to have to learn to live with, no matter how desperately your heart seemed to wish otherwise.

 So when he knocked on your doorstep one afternoon, looking utterly disheveled and anxiety-ridden, you were completely taken aback, so much so that it took you a full two minutes to remember how to turn the doorknob and greet him. By the time you did, he had already turned away and was halfway back to his house. You noticed the mug he carried in his hand only moments before noticing another sitting on your table, with still steaming coffee and a note sitting underneath the ceramic. 

Your heart raced as you read his endearingly messy handwriting: 

‘I’ve been an ass. Sorry it took me this long to figure it out. Could I make it up to you over dinner? 

P.S – that bourbon should mix well with the coffee. Give it a shot before you give it away.’ 

In a split second decision, you made your way over to his house with the coffee in hand, unfortunately losing a few splashes on the way due partially to uneven ground but mostly due to your nerves. You could not understand the effect he was having on you. Three weeks ago, you were ready to knock him into the dirt. Today, you anxiously run your fingers through your hair and smooth out the wrinkles in your shirt while cursing yourself for not taking the time to brush your teeth again before coming to his front door. However, there was no time to turn back or regroup because he opened the door almost immediately after you knocked. 

You were wholly unprepared for the sight of him. His hair had grown noticeably longer, and perhaps grayer as well. It was messy; undefined curls spread all across his forehead, but somehow he managed to look nothing less than perfect. He adorned himself with a fitted black shirt that hugged his arms in all the right ways and only highlighted the broadness of his shoulders. His skin was beautifully tanned, a perfect bronze that looked as though the sun itself lived inside of him. You had never seen his eyes look so soft and unguarded. You were unsure if it was the prolonged lack of contact or if you were initially blinded by anger, but Joel was handsome. Rugged, chiseled, slightly older, and strong (you wondered if he was strong enough to perhaps carry you, pick you up as though you weighed nothing, or perhaps throw you around a bit). 

He cleared his throat and broke you from your trance. “Oh, uh… hey. Sorry, hope I didn't bother ya by knocki–” 

“How does lunch sound instead?” Your words came out rushed, and you hoped they didn't betray how flustered you were. “Like, now. As long as you're free, I mean, I know you don't really have company often, and you have Ellie too…” 

“That, uh, that actually sounds real nice.”

 “Really?”

 “Yeah. C’mon in. Sorry for the mess.”

Six more weeks passed. 

Six more weeks of spontaneous lunches, dinners, late-night drinks, heavy conversations as a result, and countless cups of coffee 

Joel could not believe he had ever been so foolish as to refuse your companionship; he has spent so many days chastising himself over his stupidity. He wasted the better part of four months pushing you away at every turn. And despite it all, despite his thorniness, despite his brash personality and rusty conversational skills, despite believing he had nothing to offer you in return for your adoration aside from pain and tears, you never once made him feel like the monster he believed himself to be. He could not help but remember your plants and your willingness to love them despite them never reciprocating; they grew, they lived, and it was enough for you. You gave and gave and gave just a little more, and you never expected anything in return other than him, with all of his flaws, his traumas, and his burdens. He was all you wanted. 

Joel knew he wasn't good with these things. He knew what he was beginning to feel for you—it was an emotion he hadn't felt in many years at this point, not entirely foreign to him but not his mother tongue. He did not know how to express his gratitude or adoration for you, certainly not in the way that you deserved. 

What he did know was how to use your body—or, rather, his body—for your pleasure. Joel’s words often fell short, but his mouth and tongue still had a myriad of ways to tell you his affections: late at night when the town slept and Ellie was off with her friends, or in the early hours of dawn when the sun had barely begun to kiss the sky, or during midday when the heat was practically unbearable, Joel would show you just how special you were to him. With every flick of his skilled tongue, every movement of his hands, and every kiss he shared with you, he poured every ounce of his adoration into your body, and you responded with the sweetest moans his ears had ever been graced with. 

And now, as you lay wrapped up in a thin gray sheet with your clothes scattered along his bedroom floor, Joel floods you with devotion. He took his time working you up; he made you earn it this time around and turned you into a beautiful little mess below him before he ever touched you where you so desperately needed him. A piece of him wanted to keep you like this—you looked so goddamn pretty underneath him, practically begging for him to do anything more than what he was—but he could only be so selfish when you were just so good for him, and he could not keep himself from telling you so. 

Such a good girl.

You're doing so good for me, darlin’.

Look so pretty like this, baby. 

And every time you come undone below him, Joel cannot help but look at you so ardently; you were a sight to rival sunsets, mountains, and entire oceans, and you were his. And every time he slides into your warmth, he swears he finds heaven—if not inside of you, then beside you. You cry out his name as your nails scrape down his back—a delicious burn that only adds to his pleasure—while your legs wrap around his hips, silently begging him to stay exactly where he is and to never go too far. Hot kisses pepper down the side of your neck, and you tug at his finally trimmed curls, eliciting deep moans from his chest, creating a cacophony of sounds that neither of you maintain the mental clarity to silence—not when you are so wrapped up in each other, nothing else exists outside of the walls of his bedroom. 

And when he finishes, when his body goes rigid and he moans, practically whimpers, your name at a slightly higher pitch than his usual cadence, Joel finds serenity next to you in the after. As your eyes open and shut, and you fall in and out of sleep, and he traces featherlight patterns on the soft skin of your shoulder blade, Joel cannot help but believe he’s the luckiest man on Earth. 

You murmured something almost indistinguishable into his chest, but a few sounds carried crystal clear through the air—enough that he thought he could understand your intentions. 

He responded, “Me too.”