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seattlesellie · 11 months

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୨⎯ a helping hand ⎯୧

pairing: loser!ellie williams x fem!reader x dina nolastname synopsis: ellie's too shy and too nervous to take it all the way with you, and thank god dina's right by her side. warnings: weed, smut, mdni, soft dom!dina, awkward top!ellie, sub!reader, oral (r receiving), fingering (r receiving) authors note: this is based off of a request i got but accidentally deleted since i'm a little braindead ˚ ༘♡ ✧༺♡༻∞

It was thick, and and hazy, and the pungent smoke hung lazily in the air. The scent was… captivating. It wasn’t bad — no, it was a tad skunky and earthy, citrusy. Piney too, and a little bit of spice.

Something that smelled sickly sweet wafted through the air. It was almost intoxicating— The way her Jasmine and Vanilla fragrance mixed with the musk and and the resin.

Dina took the skinny spliff in between her fingers.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Silence.

Ellie’s eyes took a on a reddish hue. They were glossy, and bloodshot. She wore this languid, almost dreamy expression on her face. It rendered a slight droop to her eyelids and a gentle, unfocused gaze. She always got like this.

She was not quiet— no, she was relaxed, calm. Shoulders dropped down, she wasn't hunching, she was perfectly serene, slightly manspreading on the velvety, emerald green colored couch. A piece of lint landed on her faded beige khaki’s, and she flicked it away gently.

Everything seemed to move so slow.

“Are you gonna let go of that blunt, D?” you questioned, lazily grasping and squeezing Ellie’s light blue stress ball in your palms. You caught her playing with that when she kissed you, once — Just a mere week ago.

₊˚⊹♡

“Are you playing with your fidget while we’re making out?” Your voice was breathy and faint, just above a whisper. You could taste her on your tongue, bordering going on cotton mouthed.

“No — no, I’m — It’s…” she stammered, and let the ball fly out of her hand and land on the concrete floor.

An awkward silence.

“You make me nervous”

₊˚⊹♡

“It’s not a blunt, babe, It’s a spliff.” Dina took another drag, and handed it to you.

“Whatever.” you shrugged.

It caressed down your throat, a slight burn tingled in its wake.

Ellie always loved the way you smoked. A well manicured hand squeezing the bud between your fingers, the way your eyes were forced completely shut when you took a hit, the way your eyelashes fluttered while you exhaled. In all honestly, Ellie just thought you were very pretty. It was not the reason why she dated you; you were funny, and smart, and sweet — and the way you laughed made her stomach tie in knots and her heart feel like it was trying to leap out of her chest and leave her still as a corpse.

But that “pretty” part, made her very, very nervous.

She shifted on the couch, lifting her legs up to rest her chin on top of them. Ellie couldn't help but look, examine the way your chest heaved up and down, with her gaze fixed on you. She had a bit of a… staring problem. You saw her gaze from the corner of your eye, and smirked.

“Can you two stop with your little sex games?” Dina's voice pierced through, breaking Ellie’s trance.

“Sex games?” you probed, followed by a small huff. This wasn't a sex game. No, no... this was — purely innocent. Just two gals, who happen to be fresh as a daisy lovers, staring at each other while their best friend is in the same room.

“Ellie’s staring at you like she wants to fuck. I’m not a ghost — I’m here too, hello?” She waved her hand from side to side. You could tell she’s here too, you’d be lying if you said nothing in this living room screamed “Dina’s house!”. A silver menorah that’s been laying on the kitchen counter since Hanukkah, with a layer of fine dust collecting on top of the highest branch, a white crocheted mandala hanging slightly loose over the flat TV, bright colored crystals, and some dark ones too — splattered all over the antique mahogany table. Yes, Dina was definitely still there.

But still, so was Ellie. And being around Ellie… made you want to… Well — Sex games? Is that how Dina put it?

“We’re not doing anything” Ellie murmured, reaching over to take the spliff out of your hand. Her touch lingered a tad too long, lengthy finger softly caressing yours. Maybe you were?

“You can go to the bathroom if you want. I wont peep” Dina suggested with a grin. That little devil.

Ellie almost choked as she exhaled, You chose to ignore.

“Promise?” You asked.

“Swear.”

Ellie huffed, Yeah right.

“Gimme” Dina whined, signaling Ellie to pass her the half finished spliff.

“I’m not done” Ellie’s defended, and took another hit. Her eyebrows were hunched together, and a small line had formed, creasing right between them. God, did she look pretty too.

“Give it, bitch” Dina moaned, and abruptly took the spliff out of Ellie’s wet mouth, Ellie groaning in response.

Dina rolled it between her fingers, and gave it a small squeeze.

“Ew! You fucking drooled over it!”

“Fuck you man” Ellie hissed, bumping lightly into Dina’s shoulder.

“But seriously… Where’s like—“ Dina inhaled, blowing the smoke into Ellie’s face.

“Dude—“ Ellie huffed, waving her hand in the air as if attempting to disperse the thick smoke that enveloped them.

“Where’s the wildest place you had sex?” Dina questioned, as she smushed the spliff on the ashtray, then casually picked off some leftover tobacco from the table, absentmindedly wiping it on the red ceramic surface.

Ellie felt her cheeks turn an adorable shade of light pink. She was a blusher, you soon came to realize.

The sex thing... that was an issue — Well, it wasn’t necessary an “issue” but it was… a thing.

You and Ellie hadn’t had sex yet. ₊˚⊹♡

two full months of dating, resulting only in heated make out sessions. Sure, Ellie played with your tits, breathy and panting, and you almost came when she made you jump up and down her creamy thigh, crossfaded and washed by a sudden burst of extreme boldness, but that was that. When you lifted your skirt up to let her see what was underneath (that day, was a mint green colored lace thong) she hastily pulled it down, followed by a whispered “m’sorry”, and when you pouted, nauseous and incredibly embarrassed, she calmed you down with soft delicate butterfly kisses on your nose and on your forehead.

“Wanna take it slow” she mumbled, her cheeks turning a rosy pink, lips curling down to a pout — almost matching yours.

Maybe she didn’t really like you like that, you wondered, hugging your pillow, hot tears smearing all over the bedsheet. Maybe you weren’t attractive enough, perhaps she saw you more as a friend… A friend she liked to kiss and only kiss, a friend who made her stomach flip and her mind race, but still, only a friend.

If you knew that Ellie spent the entire night after that glorious encounter with her purple vibrator in between her legs and a pair of your panties stuffed inside her mouth, perhaps you wouldn’t have cried. Perhaps… you wouldn’t have been embarrassed. Thing is, you didn’t know. So you didn’t kiss her hungrily after that, and you didn’t sit on her lap just to watch her get flustered like you always used used to. You kept your distance, respected her boundaries, and pretended to let it go. Small pecks, hand holding, and one kiss on the pulse of her neck — That’s how it went.

₊˚⊹♡

You crossed your arms, and fixed your gaze on the yellow colored wall behind Dina.

“We made out in Jesse’s bathroom” Ellie said quietly. That you did, right after Jesse’s birthday party, you needed to “Clean the bathroom” because “A girl threw up and made a mess”

Dina rolled her eyes, and turned to face her.

“I asked about sex”

“Mhm” Ellie hummed, feeling her toes curl inside her Chuck’s. She wasn’t going to get this.

“Don’t know why you need to know so bad”

“I'm just... curious," Dina stated, her smirk growing wider as she looked in your direction.

“You two seem like freaks.”

Ellie bit her lip so hard it almost bled. She couldn’t look at you, too embarrassed to see the look on your face, so she looked at the ashtray, examining its sleek cover. Would you pout again? just like you did when she pulled your skirt down? will you look angry? sad? disappointed?

“Cmon” Dina grumbled.

“I wont judge —“

She glanced at you.

“Promise.”

You looked at her like you wanted to shut her lips tightly together with a piece of tape.

“It’s been kinda dry for me and I’m trying to live vicariously through my best fr—“

“We haven’t had sex yet.” Ellie blurted.

The room fell silent.

Ellie’s eyes were glued to the table.

Why the fuck… would she say that?

Dina cleared her throat, her gaze fixed firmly upon you. Her lips hinted at a grin, but she suppressed it, pressing them together into a straight line.

“Oh” Dina quietly said. Noted.

Ellie shifted on the couch, and mumbled something you couldn’t hear under her breath. Could have been a “so nosy” or a “fuck off”, but alas, it was barely above a whisper.

“Happy?” she murmured.

“Just…”

Dina flipped her hair to the side, brushing her fingers through the thick, black strands. If you sat any closer, you would have been able to smell her pistachio-almond shampoo.

“Surprised”

“Pass me the weed? I wanna roll another one” Ellie groaned.

“I dont have any”

Ellie ts’kd, attempting to divert the conversation everywhere but towards what had just happened. Avoid, avoid, avoid.

You sat quietly, manipulating the stress ball, squeezing it so hard your knuckles almost strained.

It’s not like Dina didn’t know everything about you, because she did. It wasn’t confessing to some clueless stranger, this was Dina. And still, it hurt. You knew she wouldn’t judge you, never. But you — you would judge you. And that was worse. And now, this wasn’t an unspoken thing anymore. It was out there, waiting to be pounced on.

Maybe… maybe you needed that.

“Fuck” Ellie huffed.

The room fell silent again. It wasn’t the smoke that made the air feel thick anymore.

“Can I ask…”

Dina turned her body to squarely face Ellie.

“Why?”

“No," Ellie stated bluntly, her voice tinged with raspiness and hoarseness.

“Was it like this with Cat too?” Dina asked. She always knew how to hit the fucking jackpot. Cat.

“No, t’wasn’t” Ellie rolled her eyes.

“Can you let it go?”

This was a conversation about you, that you didn’t even participate in. Until you did, because you truly couldn’t help yourself. Was it you? Did Ellie just… Did Ellie just like Cat better?

“Is it me?” Your voice was shaky, soft and quiet.

She wanted to say no, Wanted to ask Dina to just let it fucking go.

It was silent for a moment again, till it wasn’t.

Ellie took a deep breath, slid off the couch slightly as the need to hide under it slowly overtook her. She crossed her arms.

"Yes"

You felt something turning in the pits of your stomach.

“Oh” you whispered, god, that was painful. It was you.

Dina’s mouth fell agape.

“No— not like that” Ellie retreated.

“No it’s… I get it. S’fine”

There was nothing Ellie needed more than a punch in the gut to knock her out and a fat blunt intertwined between her fingers.

“You don’t get it though”

“Think I’m gonna…” You hastily started to look for everything you needed. Sunglasses, purse, keychain. You weren’t doing this.

“Gonna go”

“Hear her out, babe… Sit” Dina calmly suggested. It was as if she knew exactly what Ellie had in mind. It was you, but not like that. How could it ever be like that?

“Just… Fuck” Ellie mumbled.

“Cat — she didn’t… Can you sit down?”

You stared at the floor. Maybe you should sit down.

“Okay how do I—“ Ellie began, scratching her head.

“How do I explain this?” She looked at Dina. Yes, Dina knew.

“Calmly, and with reason.” She squeezed Ellie’s bicep, followed up with a small, breathy “Fuck you” from Ellie.

“Cat didn’t make me nervous like you fucking do, man— She didn’t make me rethink every single step I took and kissing her— Fuck”

Silence again.

“Kissing her didn’t make me feel like my legs were fucking wobbly or whatever.”

“I dont wanna disappoint you.” The way it came out of her mouth, so real, and so raw… you looked… wide eyed.

“Ellie…” you whispered.

“Why would you disappoint me?” Gosh. Give her a little squeeze!

“Because what if I don’t fucking know how— What if you don’t like the shit I do and what if you think I fucking suck and leave me and—“

“Can I say something?” Dina interrupted.

“No, Dina” Ellie nudged her.

“Ellie shut up, you’re rambling and it’s probably turning her off more th—“

“S’not turning me off” It was your turn to interrupt now. "You don't know how?" the brunette asked Ellie, with a teasing smile. Oh, she was making fun of her. Ellie barely picked up on that, too frustrated by her own thoughts running circles inside her foggy brain.

"I do know how— Just... fuck, Dina, just let it fucking go"

“I can help.” Is all she said. Quiet, but confident. She could help.

“What?” you were stunned. Maybe she had a printed guide? A 101 on lesbian sex?

Dina rolled her eyes and flashed her pearly whites.

“Remember that time… when you slept over?” She had to stop herself from grinning again. Her tongue was bumping her cheek, like a naughty little chipmunk.

“What time?” As if there weren’t dozens of those times.

“That… Time” Dina tilted her head slightly.

“Don’t know what time youre—“ you rambled, soon to be cut off.

“Ellie—“ Dina turned around to face her, yet again.

“I fingerblasted your girl”

“What the f—“ Ellie blurted, and her mouth fell wide open.

“Dina!” you yelled.

“I’m just—“ She lifted her hands up in defense.

“I wanna help because it clearly felt good and—“

“Are you on fucking drugs?!” Ellie blurted, and immediately stood up.

“I mean we fucking smoked, Ellie”

It was almost comical — how fast paced all of this… situation was.

The room felt silent again. How many more times could this happen? awkward silences, questioning looks.

“I’m saying I wanna help you, El”

“Let me show you” Dina’s voice was quiet. Genuine. Begging… almost?

Ellie stared at the floor. And then at you — and then at the floor again. She could feel her hands grow clammy, and a droplet of sweat forming and flowing down her neck. Show her? why didn’t that make her feel nauseous? Why did she feel it in her fucking crotch?

"What the fuck does that mean?" Ellie shook her head.

“Only if it’s okay with you” Dina murmured softly, and gave you a warm, calming look. Comfort — Dina.

“And with you.” She took Ellie’s trembling hand and gave it a small squeeze.

"I can show you just what I did."

Ellie dropped her ass on the couch, and fuck — if her legs didn’t feel so fucking wobbly again maybe she would have stayed standing up. But she sat, her legs slightly parting.

“Okay?” Dina quipped.

Ellie gulped.

“I won’t steal her from you… I’ll be your… tutor?” Dina questioned, a sly smirk forming on her lips.

“Dina” You and Ellie said in unison. Ellie glanced at you. She felt ashamed, she felt sweaty, sickly, and too fucking turned on to move a muscle.

“Let me take care of this” She sounded genuine. Like she truly wanted to help. No grin, no smirk, no attitude, just long eyelashes batting softly as the sun sank lower in the west.

“Okay?” she quipped softly.

“Okay”

Dina smiled so wide she had to bite her entire cheek to stop herself from fully crumpling down on the floor.

You glanced at Ellie, then Ellie glanced at you. She still couldn’t… fully look, But this was something. A small agreement.

“C’mere” Dina patted her thigh softly.

It took you a moment, but you took up on her invitation. Hesitantly, you crawled slowly towards her. When you lifted yourself up in order to sit on her bare thigh, her purple thin linen shorts ending right where your ass met her leg, Ellie felt it in her guts. Her face twitched, maybe in jealousy, perhaps in confusion, but none of it mattered, since her clit throbbed inside her boxers. She didn’t know what was more painful, seeing you — sitting directly on your best friends thigh, getting felt up by someone else, or the aching of her own cunt.

“And I won’t kiss her if you don’t… want me too. Just show you, okay?” Dina whispered. Always so fucking attentive.

“Mhm” Ellie hummed, as her mouth felt too dry to form any real, clear sentences. It was as if time stood completely still. She could stop this, she could. She doesn’t want to.

Meanwhile, you, you were trembling all over. It was almost too much — and nothing even happened yet. Dina's thighs were soft, and her scent tickled your nostrils. Vanilla, jasmine, almonds, and a hint weed. Her chest was firm as it brushed your back, two soft mounds caressing it. She let out a long breath that lingered on your neck, you hummed softly.

“Ellie… come closer” she whispered.

“Get on the floor… right between my thighs, okay?” It was the way she had said it, that got you. The way it came out to soft, so delicate, as if she was trying to comfort her, make her feel safe.

Ellie slowly crawled right where she needed her.

Dina bunched your skirt up just a tad, revealing a little bit of your upper thigh to Ellie. She sat directly in front, almost as if she was watching a movie, the bystander that she was. Her chest rose up and down. She’s never even seen that part of you yet.

“This okay?” Dina whispered in your ear, her saccharine voice making your entire body shudder in response.

A barely audible "Yeah..." slipped past your lips, barely more than a whisper, breathy and faint.

“Ellie?” Dina questioned, adverting her look to face the girl.

“Have you seen it yet?”

“N… no” she huffed. Her clammy hand formed in a fist, short nails digging crescent little moons on her palms. She hasn’t seen it. Of course she hasn’t. She’s barely seen anything.

“It’s so pretty” Dina teased, bumping her nose into the crook of your neck.

“She has a really pretty one” she whispered, and began slowly pecking your shoulders.

“You gotta make sure you treat her good.” kiss. “Make sure she’s wet for you” kiss.

Ellie was breathing like she had run a marathon in the Sahara desert for 18 kilometers.

“Do you wanna maybe… Move her panties to the side?”

Ellie gulped, you almost heard the fat glob of saliva slip down her throat. her mind almost went entirely blank. This could not, under any circumstances, possibly be real.

Another moment of silence.

“No?” Dina questioned, running her fingernails down your thighs. She pinched one of them, pulling the fat between her fingers, making you jolt in her lap.

“Yes” Ellie groaned.

“Fuck I wanna—“ Fast paced, and needy. Slurring her words and trying to stop herself from fainting on the floor.

She jolted forward, practically leaping towards you.

“Do it…” Dina teased.

Ellie’s hands were shaky, and her movements were agonizingly slow. As she brought her hand up your thigh, slightly tugging on your skirt, playing with the hem of it, you felt your mind melting completely off. You could only whimper in response.

With an unsteady pull, your skirt was down. It stood pretty right above your feet.

“God” Ellie groaned at the sight. All she wanted to do, was lay her head on top of Dina’s thighs, as if they were two soft cushions, and stare till her mind completely liquefied.

“Did you pick them just for her?” Dina teased, taking both of your hands in her palms. You hummed in response.

“She’s such a sweet girl, isn’t she?” she looked towards Ellie. Ellie could barely make eye contact with Dina, let alone with you.

All she could do is moan softly in response.

“You can do it, El”

“F—ffuck off” she hissed.

She slowly moved the fabric to the side, and her eyes almost closed entirely shut when she unraveled your drooling, messy cunt. She could see the big wet spot on your panties, and all she wanted to do was suck the juices completely dry, clean them with her tongue until all that was left on the soft cotton thong was her own saliva. she wanted to digest you whole, taste the sweetness running down her throat, but all she could fucking do was pull them to the side, and let out an incredibly harsh breath— bordering on a grunt, almost a whimper.

“Isn’t it so fucking pretty?” Dina cood, patting your pussy lips softly, each little pat making you buck your hips forward. She played with the sticky strings of slick that hung loose in the air.

Ellie ran her fingers through them, as if they were the strings of her guitar.

You — poor you, didn't even know where to look.

All Ellie could do was hum, and stare like a tortured, bordering on perverted soul.

“Tell her” Dina commanded.

“Tell her how pretty you think it is” she parted your puffy lips slightly, revealing the beautiful pearl that resided inside. The cool air, mixed with Ellie’s breath, so so close to where you needed her, made you shiver.

You thought you could come with just her looking into you, examining you as if you were some sort of art work, the most beautiful one she’s ever seen, with details carved by the Gods themselves, a pretty little button, a hole that clenched in and out— inviting her in, and lips like gentle curtains, soft and ethereal.

“Its so… fuck” She huffed. She could feel her mouth watering, the soft muscle hiding inside slowly grazing the top of her mouth.

“So pretty”

Before you could move and react to Ellie’s praise, Dina plunged a finger directly inside your greedy hole. Small, delicate, sheer little bubbles made perfectly round of your own juices formed on the tiny tip of her middle finger.

“Ow fuck!”

Dina, quickly as ever, smeared them all over Ellie’s plump lips.

Ellie fucking whimpered, and babbled about how good it tasted, and almost instinctively licked all of the gathered slickness that formed on her mouth.

“Thats a good girl” Dina smirked, patting her fingers on Ellie's left cheek.

“Dont fucking good girl me” Ellie hissed, almost falling to her knees when she heard the needy, long, high pitched moan that escaped your lips when Dina caressed your cunt again.

“I see how it is” Dina nodded, grinning like the little minx that she is.

“Tell her” She whispered.

“Tell her how good she’s being for you then”

Ellie gave Dina a questioning look, and stared at your hazed expression. You were wheezing, it was all so fucking much. Dina’s finger slipping in and out, Ellie staring and panting like a cat in heat, and the way Dina started slowly but surely, grinding your hips back and forth to meet Ellie’s hungry, desperate gaze was making you see a million galaxies every time you dared to close your eyes shut.

“You’re being so good” Ellie whispered.

“So good” she repeated. She was telling it to herself, now.

Dina’s middle finger began forming slow circles on your clit, making you whimper out quiet sobs into her neck.

“Look at her… I think she likes the circles”

She fastened her pace, making you cry softly.

“Tell her you like them”

“I li— I like the circles… God— yesss” you hiccuped, bucking your hips faster and harder towards Ellie’s face.

The way she looked at you, like she was absolutely ravenous, was inexplainable.

Ellie sat on her knees, legs slightly parted, both of her hands laying on the plush of your thighs. Forcefully, she parted them further apart.

She was utterly hypnotized by the way Dinas fingers pinched your swollen clit between her fingers, tugging at the little button. Every time she gave it a little slap, and stopped those agonizingly slow circles she was forming, almost as if she was creating something out of clay — Ellie noticed how your eyes completely shut, she noticed the juice leaking from your hole directly into your ass, making Dina’s thighs glimmer as the slick created a small, sheer puddle on her thighs.

Ellie had to stop herself from taking her pants off and grinding on the fucking floor.

“You like that baby?” Dina cood, plunging two fingers inside of your hole, pumping them in and out slowly. She made sure she was putting on a show for Ellie.

“M’— oh fuckfuck” you babbled, feeling it jolt inside of your stomach.

“You ready? Ellie? Touch her fucking clit”

“I c—“ Ellie panted pathetically.

“Make her come, c’mon, make her fucking come” Dinas voice was breathless and desperate. Somehow, she managed to keep it stern. She was in charge, for now.

Ellie’s fingers met your cunt, pinching your puffy outer lips together, her gaze fixed directly upon it, marveling in how louder you got when it was her who had her fingers caressing you. Dina made you feel good, sure, but it was Ellie who made the coil in your stomach tighten. It was her you craved.

You needed her.

“El—Mph— Ellie” You cried, as you felt her movements grow faster and faster. She wanted to drown herself in it, at last — her mouth was on you. She gave no warning, was she truly the student here?

It was fervent, and warm, and the tight, pink muscle caressed you everywhere, from your clit, and then lapping up the juices gathering in your entrance, it all happened too fast.

The thing is, she couldn’t help it anymore.

“Put your—“ Dina breathlessly mumbled.

“Put your finger inside when you eat her out”

Her ears perked up, and she obliged. Ellie pumped them in and out, so long they almost grazed your cervix, over that one sweet spongey spot inside, rendering you almost unconscious.

“Fuckkk” Ellie hissed, as she hungrily kissed your clit, sucking the sensitive little button in between her lips.

“I wanna fucking—“ Ellie panted

“Dont you dare keep your mouth off of her, Ellie —"

"You like when she does that?" Dina mumbled, gripping your tit with her left hand, her right one opening your puffy lips together to let Ellie's fingers slip inside easier, quickly pumping in and out like she was trying to win a race.

"I love it— oh god" you babbled. You were almost riding Ellie's entire face, your thighs clenching around her.

"Make her cum Ellie" Dina tugged the taller girls hair.

Oh, she fucking did.

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #ellie x reader #ellie x reader x dina #ellie tlou2 #ellie williams smut #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams x you #the last of us #wlw #lesbian

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sixofpomegranates · 1 year

Text

☠︎ Girlfriend ☠︎

Request: A Part 2 to "Tutor"

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Carver!Fem!Reader

A/N: Ignore that Silence of the Lambs was published in '88.

CW: Smut, Fluff, Angst 18+| [y/n]'s Mother (Family Secrets/Misogyny/Rich Family/Unhappy Marriage/Unplanned Pregnancy) Mentions of Forced Date, Self-Deprecation, Feeling of not being good enough, Secret Relationship, Wayne being our #1 Dad, Smut~ Penetrative Sex (Unprotected, Creampie, Semi-Public)

"Sooo... Girls' night has officially started," Robin announces as the Wheelers leave and reveals the whiskey she stole from her dad's liquor cabinet.

Steve looks up from the graduation cap Nancy makes him hold so she can glue down the white lace she wants on it. "Hey," he cries, hating that he technically is one of the girls.

Robin rolls her eye. "Girls' night with Steve," she corrects herself sarcastically.

Steve ignores the tone, simply giving a satisfied, "Thank you."

Both take a sip of whiskey, grimacing their faces, while I glue the last and final red rhinestone on the devil's skin, which lurks maniacally on Eddie's cap. He hasn't written his test yet, but as I told him, I am certain he'll graduate.

"Eddie will love that," Nancy tells me, and I grin.

"You think?" I ask, looking down at Mike's Hellfire Club shirt one last time to make sure I copied everything correctly. It looks good, the devil, full of red rhinestones, is surrounded by spikes on the edges and a silver '86 on the side, and the black tassel comes from his mouth like a hellish tongue.

Robin cackles, "Are you crazy? The graduation cap looks like it's straight from his brain."

"Because it kind of is," I laugh, taking a sip of the vile liquor that burns in my throat.

"So, you are a couple now?" Steve asks, still confused over the whole secretive concept Eddie and I have going on at the moment.

"Kind of," I reply, making him raise his eyebrows.

"What's a kind-of-couple?"

I sigh, annoyed over the last two weeks - the first two of our relationship - having been nothing but hide and seek, little notes in my locker, mixtapes delivered to me by Dustin, and staying as far away from each other as possible.

"We like each other a lot. We see and want a future together, but we'll have to wait until we graduate because my family believes the devil possesses him," I explain as casually as possible.

"Well, I wish that would be the strangest thing I've ever heard," Nancy mutters, empathetic. "Have you made up a plan for after graduation?"

I nod. "I'll move out, and I already have found a store I'm interested in renting."

"Where are you going to live? I can always ask my parents to let you stay with us," my best friend asks sweetly, but I decline.

"Thanks, Robin. But I think I'll buy a house a little outside of Hawkins, closer to the store."

Steve raises his brows, "You have that kind of money?"

"Yes, it's a generous trust fund. A small house is affordable," I explain as if mine and Steve's dad haven't been business partners for over a decade now.

"Especially since after the earthquake, the real estate prices dropped to an all-time low," Nancy jokes, taking a sip of soda to flush down the taste of whiskey.

"So, no better time to buy a house," Robin joins in. "Except if Vecna comes back and decides to continue his mandala of terror."

We share a look, knowing it's inevitable that it will happen at one point in time, yet I shrug. "Hey, I'm going to enjoy my life to the fullest until he returns."

Nancy's hand brushes over my shoulder, signing her support, then she shows us her finished cap.

As she puts it aside, Steve asks teasingly in his most girlish voice, "Are we now painting our toenails?"

"Who invited you?" Robin exclaims, annoyed but chuckling, and throws a pillow at him.

As they bicker, a very clear yelp from outside the bedroom catches my attention.

"What was that?" I ask Nancy, who answers suspiciously fast.

"That's Mike and the boys."

Another annoyed row of curses follows, making me state, "That sounded like Eddie." As nobody answers, I stare at the most guilty looking of them. "Nance."

"They help him study," she replies, and I feel my heart starting to beat faster.

"So, he's here, and you didn't tell me?" I ask.

Robin shrugs, "It's Girls' Night, and he asked us not to tell you."

I jump off the bed, graduation cap in my hand, and leave the room. Stopping by Mike's room, I watch them through the small gap they've left the door open.

"Last chance, Eddie," Dustin announces, standing before the chair my boyfriend sits on.

From a paper handed to him by Mike, he reads, "Antacids and antiallergic drugs interfere with the function of histamines but do not interfere with the function of each other. Explain."

Eddie's hair is wet and slicked back; Erica stands beside him, a water gun pointing in his direction.

"The-" he starts, but the armed girl soaks him in water. "What the fuck?"

"Erica, he was about to answer," Mike tells her, being quickly shut up by her.

"He was too slow."

"I hate you, little shits," he tells them, brushing his wet bangs from his face.

"Answer," Erica demands, the neon green gun pointed at his face again.

"They do not interfere with the functioning of each other because they work on different receptors in the body. Histamine stimulates the secretion of pepsin and hydrochloric acid in the stomach. The drug cimetidine was designed to prevent the interaction of histamine with the receptors present in the stomach wall. This results in the release of fewer amounts of acid. Antacid and antiallergic drugs work on different receptors."

"Mike?" Dustin asks, having him nod.

"He's right."

A triumphant laugh escapes Eddie, making my heart swell with love. I knew he could do it if he tried hard enough.

"Great, can we take a break?" he asks, hopeful, but Erica shakes her head.

"No."

"C'mon," he whines, and I decide to intervene.

"Hey," I greet them, knocking on the door. "Would you mind if I borrow Eddie for a while?"

My eyes meet his brown ones, and I can swear they sparkle as he realizes I am actually here. If his heart beats as fast from excitement as mine?

"Five minutes, else his dumbass brain resets itself," Erica allows, putting the water gun down.

Eddie uses the opportunity and bolts out of the room, past me, and down the stairs.

"What did he pay you?" I ask the kids.

Dustin grins excitedly. "He bought us the new Atari 7800."

I raise my eyebrows, "And you Super Soaker him for getting answers wrong?"

"Four minutes," Erica announces, and I quickly lift my hands in surrender.

"Kay." She has a bright future ahead of her, that bossy little girl.

I follow Eddie down the stairs, finding him on the porch, a cigarette in his mouth.

"I love kissing smokers," I announce jokingly, making him turn to me and pull me against his chest.

"Sorry, Sweetheart. They're really pushing me in there."

"I know, saw it," I giggle, running a hand through his wet curls.

Flicking the butt of his cigarette away, he cups my cheeks. "Jesus, I missed you," he announces before bringing our lips together. The taste of cigarettes is overpowered by his own, so I don't feel bothered by it as I melt into the kiss.

His hands wander to my waist as he deepens the kiss. "Eddie," I giggle, but he doesn't stop, instead moving down to my neck.

"Eddie," I breathe again, weakly. "I got something for you."

He instantly stops, curious puppy eyes staring me down. I reveal the graduation cap I had hidden behind my back, and he takes it, holding it to the porch light.

"That's... You made that for me?" He asks, baffled. I nod, having him truly touched. "You're that sure I'll graduate?"

As I nod, he pulls me into another kiss, this one being less lusting and more... More.

As he pulls away, he whispers against my lips, "I need to go back in. Still have a few notes I need to go over."

"If you need a break, Nancy, Robin, Steve, and I are having a Girls' Night," I offer, making him place a kiss on my forehead.

"Absence makes the heart grow fonder," he tells me. "I'll see you when we graduate, but keep Dustin's walkie-talkie on just in case I'll get lonely and need to hear your voice."

We haven't used them yet, but Dustin — our number one supporter — has lent us his walkie-talkies. It's cute and a valuable thing to have since we can't exactly just call each other.

I follow Eddie inside, surprised by how determent he can be. "Eddie?" He stops on the stairs, looking down at me. "If given the choice, house or trailer?"

He chuckles, "Can't afford either."

As I give him a serious look since we both know I can afford both for us, he sighs, telling me smiling, "I'd follow you wherever your heart takes you."

And as if he knows it can't get any more romantic, he leaves me there before the moment is ruined, returning to his study circle of hell.

*****

Cursing, I slam the door behind me. This has to be a sick joke.

My father just announced that his old friend from college and his son are here for a visit. Directly followed by the boy's resume and the information that I will be going out with him for dinner next Tuesday.

Matt is a rich jock, of course, from an old money family and has a family line cleaner than the operating table of the nearby hospital.

He is also exactly what my family wants from me, and therefore, Dad didn't even give me a chance to say no.

No. He said this was an essential step for my future, and if we'd get along, there would stand nothing in the way of further arrangements.

I feel like cattle about to be auctioned off to the highest bidder.

I feel trapped in the current situation.

It knocks on the door, and although I – loud and clearly – say no, my mother comes in. She holds a silver foiled Pop-Tart – I know she hates when I eat them – as a peace offering in her perfectly manicured hands.

"Hun," she says, sitting beside me on the mattress. "Your dad didn't mean to upset you. He just really wants you to have a husband that can offer you something."

"I'm eighteen. I don't want to think about getting married just yet."

Mom nods, her eyes focused on the shiny foil in her hands. "I know you think this is ridiculous now, but your teenage years are over quicker than you think, and then you're expected to fit into society seamlessly. You have a family name and legacy to protect. It would help if you'd trust your father more. He knows what's best."

I sit up, feeling like she's messing with me, sounding like a broken record that always tells me what I, as a Carver, am expected to be and do. "I don't wanna go on a date with this guy, but Dad forces me to because he'll benefit from me being with a son of a wealthy friend. That isn't thinking about what's best for me, Mom."

After a few seconds of deafening silence, she looks up from the Pop-Tarts. "You're still seeing the Munson boy, aren't you?" she asks calmly, knowing.

I quickly shake my head. I didn't even dare to look at Eddie anymore, just out of fear we'd get caught. "N-No. Dad said I wasn't allowed to, so I dumped him."

I sound convincing. I trained myself to sound like that. The words are clean and painful to think about, but I am so convincing.

They always say that you can't lie to your mother. She's supposed to be the person knowing you best, having loved and raised you. I never thought my mom knew me enough to keep up with that saying... Yet, her eyes fill with shock and worry the second the lie leaves my mouth.

"[y/n]. Your father will be furious."

"About what?" I ask her. "You want me to call him? I bet you ten bucks he's at some stupid party or has another girl over right now."

I recall the fact that I know Eddie would pick up, that he doesn't like parties, and that he wouldn't cheat on me. I don't like having to sound so convincing. I am messing with my own mind doing it.

Mom sighs. "This might've fooled your father, young lady, but not me. You have to break things up with this boy. [y/n], I beg of you to be reasonable here. You know this family will never approve of him. They will disown you, shun you..."

I shrug. "So? There's worse than having to pass on Thanksgiving dinners with a family that thrived for generations of exploiting others and yet still acts as though they worked for their wealth."

"[y/n]," she sighs. "Sometimes it's about what's best for your family."

"So my family benefits from me being miserable? Sounds like a shitty family to me," I scoff.

"How do you think I would feel if your grandparents would announce your exclusion from the family? Do you think they would ever let me see you again? I wouldn't be able to go to your wedding or meet my grandchildren."

"Mom, this family isn't the mafia. We could still see each other..."

"We both know you're not stupid enough to actually believe this. Think of your Aunt Sweety."

My father's younger sister, Mary Louise Carver, mostly known as Sweety (a hint toward her sweet nature), met the love of her life when she was eighteen. The boy (born to immigrant parents) had come from a broken, financially unstable family and was working odd jobs to support himself.

Sweety decided to marry him, not caring about what our family said.

The scandal had shaken our entire family, I had only been five, but I still remember the Sunday night dinners ending in screaming and tears.

The Carver family line is as clean and purebred as could be. We have lives planned for us, expectations and traditions to fulfill that have come with us on the Mayflower... We're not allowed to pair with the common folk.

Disowned and shunned, my aunt carried on and married her boyfriend. The last time we heard from her, she'd moved overseas.

On family celebrations, we're not allowed to bring up her name; there are no pictures of her found anywhere in our houses; when an old family friend (unaware of the drama) asks about her, we pretend she's dead.

When it comes to the Carvers, Mary Louise doesn't exist.

God, fuck, we have an awful family. Even if I like to pretend that my family life wouldn't change by choosing Eddie, my mom's stressed-out face gives me a very needed but heavily unwanted reality check.

"If our family is as bad, why did you marry Dad?"

I know how Grandma treats Mom. She always makes sure to let her know that she isn't a Carver and isn't a welcomed person in our bloodline. I can't see how anyone would ever choose to be part of this family.

Love makes you do crazy things, but love isn't even in the top ten words I'd use to describe my parent's relationship.

My mother quickly shrugs off my question. "Different situations."

I cock my head, watching her focus painfully hard on the Pop-Tarts. "How so?"

She swallows harshly, forcing herself to smile. "As I told you before, bad boys have the ability to ruin your life."

My mother and I were never close. She genuinely tried but couldn't fully connect with me. And once I was older, we were simply too different.

The way she played the role of the happy, rich housewife, although she needed to take uppers every morning just so she could get out of bed, was common knowledge in our family.

When I was little, Jason spent enough time at our house that he'd even developed a system that was planned to prevent me from seeing her fight with my dad, pop her uppers, or have her breakdowns.

My mother isn't happy.

And the longer I think about it, her words, my age, a very clear image paints itself for me.

"Mom, were you–"

She nods, interrupting me. "Three months pregnant when I married your father? Yes."

"So you married him out of obligation."

Pressing her lips together, she says, "His family was very clear about what they thought of the idea of having a grandchild born out of wedlock. There weren't many options given to me, so I took the most beneficial one for all three of us."

Oh, do things now make sense. "You married Dad because of me."

"Oh, now don't look so sad, [y/n]," she smiles her fake smile; I assume this mask gives her comfort. "I have a beautiful life, and I wouldn't change it for anything. I have a hard-working husband providing for his family and a beautiful, intelligent daughter; I get to keep up the family's values, and I never have to worry about money..."

... And you take pills and cry to yourself every day. Having money doesn't sound like it's worth it.

"It's the '80s, Mom," I tell her carefully. "Money isn't everything, and I definitely don't care if you divorce Dad to start over or not. You'd still be my mom."

Shaking her head and wiping away an uncried tear, she shuts me out again. "[y/n], I am not going to take life advice from an eighteen-year-old child. I am in the place and life I created for myself, and I am very happy," she lectures me.

After handing me the Pop-Tart, her eyes become a little sifter again. "Please just go on this date with Matt and think about all the possibilities a marriage to him could offer you in comparison to marrying trailer trash. If not for yourself, do it for me."

Tired of the conversation, I nod. "Kay."

I wait until Mom's outside, lock the door behind her, and fetch one of the shoe cartons from under the bed. Opening it, I push away my old Metallica shirt and grab Dustin's walkie-talkie.

He gave it to me, saying that Eddie has the other and should we ever want to talk, we could do it over the walkie-talkies. Keeping up an appearance, Eddie agreed not to pick up the phone should I call or pretend not to want to speak to me.

"Eddie," I ask quietly, turning on some music. "Eddie, are you there?"

I wait shortly, having him answer happily, "Hey, Sweetheart. I thought I'd be the one caving in first. Is everything okay? Miss me?"

I decide to tell him about my date. I refuse to be as toxic as the rest of my family, yet, I dread his response. Eddie deserves better than having his girlfriend go out with somebody else. We haven't even had our first date yet.

"I- I need to tell you something you won't like," I say.

"Okay?" he answered, confused.

"I need you to know that it means nothing to me, and I solely do it because I can't get out of it, so please don't read anything into it, okay?"

Clearing his throat, Eddie becomes more serious. "Okay? You're getting me a little worried over here. What's wrong, Baby?"

Biting the bullet, I blurt out, "My dad makes me go on a date with the son of a friend of his."

I wait for an answer, but there is none.

"Eddie, are you still there?"

"Uh-huh," he answers coldly. "Why did you tell me that?"

I frown. "Because you're my boyfriend, and I didn't want to keep it from you and have it look like a bigger deal than it actually is."

"It's a gigantic deal, actually," he tells me, irritated.

"It's just dinner with some jock-"

I am interrupted by Eddie's hurt rambling, build-up anger I didn't know he held coming forward. "No. It's a fucking date you go on with some other dude while I – as your boyfriend – am not even allowed to look at you. That jock gets to take you out and be seen with you while I get nothing."

"Eddie–"

"Don't go," he says quicker than I can find calming words.

"What?" I ask, taken by surprise.

He repeats himself. "I don't want you to go."

"It's not exactly like I have a choice."

"Bullshit. You always have a choice. You're not a fucking piece of meat," Eddie scoffs.

It's something so basic, but I love him for believing that I truly have a choice.

"Eddie, I have to because my dad told me to. I am not interested in the guy, but it is what it is. After dinner, he'll drop me off at home, and that's it," I say, hearing him sigh emotionally.

His emotions are so delicate underneath all of his freak armor.

"I know this is all upsetting for you," I tell him. "But it is only until we graduate, and I'm out of here. The second I have my diploma, I promise I will make sure everyone in Hawkins knows I'm Eddie Munson's girlfriend. Gonna have it printed in the newspaper and on flyers. But I need you to trust me until then."

I really am not eager to meet this guy. I have all my horses set on Eddie, on us.

"It's not about trusting you..." he admits. "Just don't want you to see how much better you can do. What if that guy's some fucking prince charming, and you realize that's what you actually want, and I was just a phase of teenage rebellion?"

A giggle escapes me. "Eddie, you are not a phase. I wanted to be with you for years, and now that I got you're not getting rid of me again. I am not rethinking our plans—not even for a second."

"You sure?" he asks.

"Absolutely," I assure him.

He seems to think for a few seconds, and I just wish I could see his cheeky grin as he asks, "So forever?"

"I'd say till death do us part, but-"

He interrupts me with a burst of giddy energy. "Death can go fuck itself. I'll still hold your hand when I'm a freaking ghost rotting in my forever box. I'm actually thinking of getting a shared casket so we can rot together."

"Romantic," I giggle sarcastically, having him agree.

"Totally metal."

"Makes death metal get a whole new meaning, huh?"

We share a well-needed laugh.

"Gotta love that my girl makes jokes like that," Eddie chuckles.

"So I'm still your girlfriend?" I ask, glad that we're already acting healthier and more mature than my parents.

"You crazy? That was never up for debate," he assures me. "I'm as loyal as a dog. Unless you decide against it, we're forever."

"So, should I start writing [y/n] Munson on all my binders? I think I'm a little too old for that," I tease, still thinking of doing it anyway, feeling like a thirteen-year-old again.

"Lucky for you, I never grew out of that age; my options just got more advanced. I'm gonna ink it all over my body, permanently. Like a deal with the devil."

Having my name permanently marked on Eddie's body does sound nice...

"Hey, [y/n]?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm gonna tell you something, but you're not allowed to reply to it over the walkie-talkie, okay? Wanna hear it in person for the first time."

For towing my brows, I agree. "Okay? What is it?"

"I love you. Can't even think of a day I didn't, which makes me kind of stupid but also stupidly lucky 'cause I never want there to be a day without that feeling."

He says it so casually, yet honestly. I am overwhelmed and want to answer him and tell him I love him too, but as he requested, I'll wait until I get to see him again.

"In other news," Eddie chuckles. "I just finished a new campaign for Hellfire. The guys will both love and hate me, and I can't wait to see where the journey will take them."

"Wanna tell me about it?"

"You actually wanna hear about it, or are you being nice 'cause I'm good in bed?" he jokes.

"So full of yourself," I snicker. "Now tell me."

I get comfortable on my bed and hear Eddie clearing his throat, starting to talk, "Okay. So I actually wrote some lore I made up; I'll have to tell you about first: Centuries ago, the old gods were still reigning over the human kinds..."

*****

You just got to appreciate the irony of having my father set up a date for me to prove I can do better than Eddie Munson, and it just hardening my decision to spend the rest of my days as the freak's girl.

"So, you're going to Yale?" I ask after the seventh time that Matt flirts with the poor waitress, gawking at her ass.

"Yeah," he answers, looking around bored. He looks me up and down. "Look, I'm gonna cut this short: Am I getting something tonight?"

I raise my eyebrows. "Excuse me?"

"Sex," he clarifies, poking his pasta – the one he sent back three times. "I mean, like, you're not my type, but like... If the night ends in the back of my car anyway, we can skip this shit dinner."

Yes, this "date" is a step back for women's rights.

"I don't think we will," I tell Matt, and he shrugs.

"Yeah, kinda thought you were a prude."

I just nod. Fuck that. At this point, I don't even care for anything other than this date being over. Let that guy think whatever he wants.

"Is there any place around here where I can go for a beer?" he asks me, pulling me from my thoughts.

"You're underaged," I tell him loudly as some people have heard his previous question and start talking. We all drink secretly every once in a while, but rich-guy here doesn't seem to care for making it a secret.

Matt sighs, annoyed. "Fuck me. You're a buzz kill, huh?"

I think for a second. It's Tuesday, and suddenly, I know the perfect way to end the night. "Actually, there is this place called The Hideout. They play rock and metal, all in all, a rougher crowd, and usually, they don't check IDs there. We can drive there; I'll lead the way."

Throwing a couple of dollar bills on the table, he stands up. "You sound eager," he notes, putting on his jacket as I do the same. "Your boyfriend's there, right?"

"I don't have a boyfriend," I quickly answer, running after him, toward his car.

Matt chuckles as we get in. "Bullshit. You're dad told my dad you were running around with a punk."

"Metalhead," I correct him quicker than I can stop myself, knowing that Eddie would lose it being confused with punks.

"Ha," Matt quips back.

"Fuck."

Driving out of the parking lot, he sighs. "So, that's why you don't wanna fuck. Has nothing to do with you being a prude or with my looks, huh?"

I internally cringe as he rests his hand on my thigh, but my tone stays friendly. "No, absolutely not," I say, making him smile smugly. "You're an absolute heartthrob; every girl would be happy to be with you.

"But the last time that Eddie – my boyfriend – found out a guy flirted with me..." I remove his hand from my leg, sighing. "Poor guy, they haven't found him since. All I know is that Eddie ate his liver with fava beans and Dad's nice chianti."

Matt sucks in a breath, "Shit, really?"

I blink at him innocently, "I have no reason to lie to you, now, do I?"

"That is absolutely terrifying. Do- Is there anything that I can do to help you?"

Never read "Silence of the Lambs" and realize that you're a little stupid...

"That is so sweet of you," I tell Matt, laying a hand on my heart, "but please only worry about yourself. This date is already more danger than I'd like you to be in."

He swallows nervously, nodding. "Okay."

"We have to go right after the next fire hydrant."

Fair to say, I think I terrified Matt enough to keep his hands to himself. I would even feel a little bad if he wouldn't have been an insufferable asshat.

The second we're at The Hideout, loud music fills my ears, and Eddie's obnoxiously loud voice makes my heart beat faster. We hurry inside, Matt quick to leave my side, no longer caring if we lose each other in the crowd.

Through all the shit Eddie went through with these false accusations, his story really provided Corroded Coffin with their shot. The knowledge of the lead singer and guitarist being accused of murder, and satanism, being called a freak for minor things like music and the love for fantasy games really resonated with outcasts throughout America.

He is one of them. His story and hardships could easily be theirs.

The crowd loves the band. The cheap, handmade merch – t-shirts and cassette tapes – is already sold out, The Hideout has a tapestry with their name nailed to one of the walls, right next to tons of different biker trinkets.

I make my way to the bar and get myself a beer. Grabbing a stool the second it becomes available, I just sit there and watch my boyfriend and his band perform.

Half an hour later, Eddie thanks the unholy amount of people cheering for them for coming. His eyes scan the crowd and land on me. Instantly his smile becomes wider, eyes glistening in the spotlights he deserves to stand in.

I stay seated until the fans got their chance to swamp the boys, and when Corroded Coffin starts dragging their things outside, I follow swiftly through the back exit.

The cold air bites my skin while I watch Eddie and Gareth lift the drums in the back of the van. When the instruments are gone and he wishes his friends goodbye, Eddie finally notices me. With one hand moving through his sweaty mane, he tries to fix his deliciously disheveled appearance as he approaches me.

"Hey, baby," he says so softly it is almost a whisper. "What are you doing here?"

His hands grab my waist as he tilts his head and lovingly pecks my lips.

"The jock needed a beer after I friendly declined his offer to fuck him on the backseat... and I just couldn't stop thinking of you."

Eddie nods, approving, a smug grin on his lips. "So, two birds with one stone."

"I also told him you're Hannibal Lecter, so he'd keep his hands to himself."

Kissing me again, Eddie nips at my jaw, making his way down to my neck. "I'm honored you believe I know how to cook, let alone have a doctor title."

I giggle, letting him spin us around and back me against the side of his van.

"Missed you," I mumble into the feeling of a hickey being placed right behind my ear.

"Missed you more," Eddie purrs, hands grabbing my flesh so harshly, I just know he's bruising it. "Mind if we take this further, Sweetheart? Need you."

He pulls himself away from me; arm stretched out above my head to keep him up, so he can look at me. I run my tongue over my bottom lip as I stare at his naked torso, only covered by his leather jacket.

My appreciation and unholy thoughts for my perfect boyfriend stop abruptly as I see the new ink decorating his skin. On his chest, right across the bloody demon head and the spider, there's my name.

I lift my hand, pulling the jacket away to get a better look at it. Yes, my name.

"Like it, sweet girl?" he asks genuinely, but with his boyish grin, already knowing my answer.

I carefully trace the tattoo with my fingertips; it's not fully healed yet.

"Eddie..." I whisper, the feeling of possessive lust and love bubbling over, "Fuck me."

He chuckles darkly, "Whatever you want, baby."

His lips crash down onto mine, this time not caring to be gentle. His tongue glides over my bottom lip, entering my mouth the second I moan as he cups me through my panties.

My nails dig into his leathered forearms as I pull myself closer, making sure to give him enough pressure as he grinds his clothed erection against my thigh while rubbing my clit through my underwear.

As Eddie pulls himself from me, a shaky breath escapes him. "Shit, okay." He looks around and then grins at me while opening his black jeans. "Nobody comes here, promise. It's the band exit."

I barely get to nod as his lips are on mine again in a heartbeat. He hoists up my left leg, and I wrap it around his waist, feeling him almost rip my panties as he moves them out of the way and enters me quickly and entirely.

We moan into each other's mouths, then giggle idiotically, yet greedily we begin moving against each other, rocking the van behind us as we fall into a harsh and deep rhythm.

The almost painful stretching makes me rest my head against the van. Only the moonlight makes it possible for me to see Eddie's face. I don't think I ever felt as much adoration for anyone before, and I surely know that nobody ever looked at me like Eddie does.

It's a mixture of deep, unconditional love and animalistic wanting.

It's frightening, yet safe.

It's familiar, yet new altogether.

I whimper loudly as Eddie hoists my leg even higher. Solely his grip on my leg and waist and the van behind me keep me from falling.

This new position not only makes my spine tingle from the adrenaline rush of practically hanging in the air but also allows Eddie's pelvis to grind against my clit.

Having to keep quiet while my body erupts with pleasure is horrible, but being caught in this position would be even worse.

Eddie clenches his jaw, looking down at me. "Fuck, I don't think I can last much longer," he grunts. "How close are you, Sweetheart?"

"So close," I moan, the sensation of approaching bliss having me chase it frantically, "so, so close. Please don't stop."

Keeping up with his harsh thrusts, the tip of his cock suddenly hits the perfect spot, the one that has me see stars, and I unexpectedly fall apart, coming with a loud, lewd moan as my legs start shaking.

I would worry about the fact that I was definitely heard, but Eddie clouds all of my senses and all of my judgment. He moans and groans, throwing his head back and exposing his from sweat glistening neck, and as he fills me with his cum, his fist hits the van behind me, curses leaving his mouth.

For the moments we need to collect ourselves after that, I don't care if we're getting caught or what it looks like... not like there is any way to misunderstand the position we're in.

Eddie leans close, kissing me sweetly. Hand on my back, he helps me stand on my own as he swiftly pulls out and tucks himself away.

"You are ethereal," he mumbles against my lips, accentuating every word of his with a kiss. "Perfect. Beautiful. Love you."

Leaning against the cold van, I hold onto Eddie's leather jacket, making sure he stays close. Thankfully, touch is one of his love languages, and he happily obliges.

"Did that idiot at least take you out for dinner? Did you eat something?"

I shake my head. "We ate at a restaurant, but I was too busy apologizing for his shitty behavior toward the waitress."

"Want me to take you for burger and fries? Gonna take you home after. Don't want you to get driven home by that jock when he's in there getting drunk."

"That sounds good."

He grins. "Good? Yeah, baby?"

I nod excitedly. "Very, very good."

Eddie kisses me again, taking my hand and walking me to the passenger seat, where he opens the door for me. As he joins me in the car, he starts it, turning the stereo down quickly.

"We can listen to music," I tell him as he leaves the parking lot of The Hideout, and his hand sneaks onto my thigh.

"Rather talk to you," he replies, squeezing my leg gently. "Thought you'd like to know that I told Uncle Wayne about us."

I look at him, surprised. "You did?"

He nods. "Hope that's okay," he says, almost embarrassed.

"Of course it is. I- I'm just- I like that you told him."

"You do?"

"Yes. He's... You're close," I say, sad that I can't tell my family about Eddie and how happy he makes me.

Eddie grins. "He's my dad. Like, not actually, 'cause he's my uncle, but he's my dad."

"I hope he likes me," I whisper nervously.

"Want me to tell you how it went?"

I nod, making him lick his lips before setting the scene and carrying me through the relationship he has with his uncle. How Wayne is glad he is happy, how he's concerned because I'm a Carver. How I, indeed, made a good first impression and an even better second one when I stood up against my drunk cousin.

Eddie certainly tends to overshare, the story is filled with snippets of his parents' relationship and how Wayne is Eddie's number-one supporter.

*****

Graduation. Finally.

I've never felt freer than today. After today, a new life is starting for me. I don't even mind the overpriced dress mom put me in.

As Jason and I take our diplomas – technically, the placeholders handed to us for the ceremony – we are surrounded by our family, taking dozens of overly professional photos.

I can excuse myself as I see Eddie standing in line for his diploma. Wearing his black robe and the graduation robe I made for him, he plays with his rings nervously.

Joining my friends and Eddie's uncle, I exclaim, "He made it?"

For surprise and 'safety' reasons, the Hellfire Club had left me in the dark until today. I hated every day since the test, but now seeing Eddie in his robe; I feel proud enough to forget the worry that he might hadn't made it.

That's my boy up there... – standing next to me, Wayne lays a hand on my shoulder – ...Well, our boy.

"I knew he could do it," Wayne tells me, taking out his camera and starting to take photos.

"Edward Munson."

As his name is loudly announced, we cheer and scream his name excitedly. A moment passes while Eddie takes his diploma, and I wonder if he is seriously going to flip our former principal the bird.

But instead, he looks at us, looks at me. And in a burst of his chaotic, uncontrollable energy, he jumps down the podium and runs up to me.

"I did it," he screams loudly, bumping against me and hugging me tightly.

"You did it," I reply, giggling.

"I feel so smart. I bet I could fight God."

Lifting a hand to his chest, I snicker warningly, "Now, don't be crazy."

He chuckles at his own silliness before kissing me, only pulling away when Wayne clears his throat.

"Son," he calls, Eddie quickly walking over to him.

"I did it," the metalhead tells his uncle, holding up his diploma.

Wayne nods. "Always knew you would make it. I'm so proud of you."

They hug, both men clearly not as tough as they present to be.

"Give me your camera," I tell Wayne, taking a photo of them... Two photos since Eddie insisted on going the devil horns and pulling a grimace in the first one.

In return, Wayne insists on taking a photo of his nephew and me. This one is adorable; I already know it as Eddie wraps his arms around my waist, hugging me sweetly from behind. It's like compensation for having missed out on prom.

I see my parents looking for me, their appearance as proper as always. Mine and my mother's gazes meet, her face turning into something terrified as she sees who I am standing next to.

"Come," I say, taking Eddie's hand and walking to my family, Wayne following behind us.

"Mom? Dad?" I say to ensure I have their attention. "Those are my boyfriend Eddie and his uncle Wayne."

My father plays it cool, stepping before my mom. "Mr. Munson. Edward," he greets them, shaking their hands.

Then his cold stare meets me. "If you'd excuse us for a moment?" he tells Eddie and Wayne without as much as to even look at them again, then he grabs my arm and pulls me aside.

"[y/n], is this a joke?" my father asks angrily. "These people-"

I finish his sentence for him, "Are my boyfriend and his uncle."

He huffs angrily, my mother staying quiet. "We talked about this."

"No. You talked, and I was supposed to stay quiet and do what you want," I retort. "I will not stay away from Eddie, and you both will have to get over it."

"You can do so much better-"

I interrupt my father, unsure if Eddie hears us or not, "Stop that. I am sorry you are unhappy with my choice, but I love Eddie, and I will not have you talk about him like that. I want you to make an effort to get to know him."

The angry vein on my father's forehead pops out. "[y/n], I will not have you turn our family's name into a joke," he growls, infuriated. "It is him or us."

"What?" I ask, baffled, my mother's eyes becoming wide with shock, yet she stays silent like the good little wife she is expected to be.

"If you choose this boy, your mother and I don't want to have anything to do with you," Dad repeats himself, Mom whispering his name but falling silent as he lifts his hand, forbidding her to speak.

He is protecting the family's reputation at all costs. Right, because this is all that was ever important to my father, our reputation.

"Wow, thank you for making this decision so easy for me, Dad," I tell him sarcastically, swallowing tears as I see some rolling down my mother's cheeks.

"[y/n]. Are you really going to choose trailer trash above your own parents? How dare you?" Guilt-tripping, all my father could ever do when I wanted to make my own decisions.

"No, how dare you?" I reply. "Treating yourself and my love for you like a bargaining chip to manipulate me... Eddie would never have the bar go that low and respects me and my decisions enough to not challenge them with the thread of leaving me."

"We'll revoke all your trust funds," he tries again, having the impression of me being as materialistic as himself.

"Mom and I had the money from the one set up for my graduation transferred to my bank account yesterday, but please, enjoy your life with the rest of the money. Maybe invest in therapy for Jason or yourself," I tell my father and walk away before tears start running down my cheeks.

Of course has our fight not gone overlooked. My family has been blessed with exceptionally loud voices. The Munson's are fast to walk after me, Wayne having a gentle yet firm grip on my arm.

"Hey, are you okay, kid?" he asks calmly, empathy in his eyes. The way he tilts his head already tells me this isn't the first time he has to calm an upset youth.

I nod, taking the tissue he hands me. "Uh-huh. I- I could use some help moving, though. I kinda just got disowned."

Eddie stands there, looking at me like a kicked puppy, while Wayne pulls me to his chest, firmly starting to rub my back. "It's alright, hun. Promise it's not that bad. We're gonna give them some time to cool off before we try talking to them again, and until then, you're part of the Munson clan. You're not alone, promise. We got you, kid."

It is no wonder that Eddie is as emotionally intelligent as he is. This type of gentle parenting is something that never was used for me. I feel awful, but Wayne's calm way of comforting me talks me off the edge.

"That's my fault," Eddie says, guilt filling his voice.

We look at him quickly, his uncle shaking his head. "Family can be tough, son. It's nobody's fault. Especially not yours or yours, hun," Wayne lectures us, now also having a tight grip on his nephew's shoulder.

"I should talk to them," Eddie insists. "I- Need to make sure they know I'm not that bad."

I shake my head, Wayne stepping back and letting us hug each other. "Eddie, no. No, it's okay. I knew they were going to react that way."

"I'm sorry," my boyfriend repeats.

"You did nothing wrong," I assure him.

Wayne touches my shoulder quickly, saying, "I see your mom, kiddo. I'm gonna go give her our address and phone number so you can talk when things have calmed, okay?" I nod, and he straightens his tie before making his way over to my mother.

The second we're alone, Eddie shoves a folded, green piece of crafting paper into my hands.

"Hey, that's your goal card," I say, surprised.

I open it, and the formerly empty card is filled with [y/n] Munson written into the middle of a heart on one side and the polaroid Wayne took of us while practicing guitar glued on the other side.

"I wanted to graduate for you, so I'm less of a burden to be with," Eddie explains.

"You're no burden," I tell him, making him shake his head.

"Yes, I am. Your family just kicked you out because you want to be with me. I have no money to my name and would be reliant on you. I just barely managed to graduate; having a bunch of freshmen help me study. I am a freak and a burden. And- And-"

"And I love you," I finish his sentence for him.

Eddie stops his self-deprecating rambling. "Huh?"

I smile at him softly. "You heard me. I love you, and you are no burden because love is unconditional. We'll use the money as if it would be a credit we got from the bank together, we build our own life and income with it, and I don't care how you managed to graduate because I know how hard you tried. Even if the rest of the town – including yourself – thinks you're bad and not good enough for me, I won't ever stop loving you or even for a second stop seeing your worth."

My boyfriend's bottom lip shivers as his grip on me tightens. I kiss him gently, hearing some shocked mumbles from nosey watchers and not caring one bit.

As we pull apart, Eddie smiles at me, and I feel the need to teasingly add, "And yes, you are a freak, but you're my freak, Eddie Munson."

"You mean it?"

"Absolutely."

"Thank you," he mumbles, kissing me again. As his lips leave mine, he whispers, "I love you too, Sweetheart."

Another kiss and more unhappy small-town minds noticing the love I share with the town's freak later, Robin makes us jump apart as she nonchalantly slaps our shoulders. "Hey, lovebirds. We're going to have a graduation party at Nancy's." She looks over to Wayne, who politely kept his distance while we were busy. "Family allowed."

"You just ruined their moment, dipshit," Steve says, pulling her away from us.

She shrugs. "They can cry and make out later. Right now, it's time to celebrate."

"You still ruined their moment," he insists, dragging his best friend away while shaking his head in our direction. "Do you see what I need to deal with on a daily basis?"

Robin elbows him in the ribs. "Shut up, dingus. You love me."

I ignore their bickering, looking at my boyfriend. "Do you wanna celebrate?"

He nods. "Yeah, Robin's right, actually. We can make out later and cry tomorrow when we get your stuff."

He places a kiss on my forehead, then enlaces our fingers.

"A house," he says suddenly, making look at him a little confused. "You asked me, trailer or house. My answer is house, and I want a white picket fence, a big living room for D&D adventures, and a guest bedroom for the freshmen to crash at when it's too late to drive home."

I can't help but smile. My metalhead is nothing more than a big softy dressed in leather and denim. "A white picket fence?"

He nods happily, informing me, "Always wanted one. Very heavy metal."

"Okay, crazy," I giggle. "House it is."

Remembering Eddie's uncle, who still stands there, giving us our private moments, I ask, "Have you told him?"

Eddie shakes his head, letting go of me and walking over to his uncle.

"Uncle Wayne?" he says nervously. "[y/n] and I want to move in together."

"Oh, that poor girl," he chuckles deeply.

"Is that okay for you?"

Wayne nods. "Of course it is, Eddie. And until you find something, you'll stay at the trailer with me."

"I'll still visit you all the time, and you can stay over as often as you want," Eddie assures his uncle again.

"Son, I already said it's okay."

"I just don't want you to think you'll be alone."

My heart swells at Eddie's sweet words, and so does Wayne's, as he lets out a loud sigh.

"Lord, you're a good man, Eddie. But I'm okay. I waited nine years to have the trailer to myself again," he assures his nephew, placing a hand on each of his shoulders. "We're family, boy. We're not going to stop being there for each other just because you're changing your address."

Eddie nods, trying to look away from his uncle as his eyes fill with tears, but Wayne follows his gaze, searching for his eyes. "I'm so proud of you. Always were," he tells him, pulling him into a hug.

As they put on their manly facades again, Wayne also adds, "And you better treat that girl well. Not every day one comes around and loves you that much."

Eddie nods quickly, wiping his teary eyes into the sleeve of his graduation robe.

Wayne keeps the boy close while looking at me and opening his other arm. "Now you come here, let me hug you too." I oblige, having my first family hug at the age of eighteen, with a found family that, through its brokenness, is so much more complete than mine ever was.

"If he ever treats you wrong, you'll tell me, okay?" the older man tells me, making me giggle. "I'm serious; you're family now."

I nod. "Okay, Wayne."

Wrapping an arm over my shoulder while we walk towards our friends, Wayne tells me, "You're taking his mattress with you when moving."

I quickly shake my head. "No chance. That thing needs to be burned."

People that requested a part 2: @maystecc @englishmensbitch16 @ttsbaby01 @lucktwistedlady

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