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#thinking about how much she loves van and how much she trusts him
loveinhawkins · 1 year
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“Why are you wearing cologne?” Dustin asks after barely one second in the van.
“I’m not,” Eddie says, and promptly wants to die at how unconvincing that was. It’s not even technically a lie…
He makes it out of the school parking lot with Dustin saying jackshit, so for a little while, he thinks he’s gotten away with it.
More fool him.
Dustin abruptly lunges to the side, all up in his face like the world’s most dedicated sniffer dog.
“Ew, gross! Get off, man, I’m gonna crash,” Eddie says, even though they’ve been at a stop light for the past minute.
“Okay, correction,” Dustin says, drawing back. “Why are you wearing Steve’s cologne?”
Eddie stares into the middle distance, prays for The Upside Down to come and swallow him up.
An agonising silence.
“Oh my god,” Dustin whisper-screams. “Oh my god.”
“Look, just—”
“Oh my god!”
And yup, ow, that’s definitely become a full blown scream now, and double ow, Dustin has just socked him one in the arm.
“Hey!”
“What the fuck, Eddie?! How could you not—”
“Jesus! Take a damn chill pill, Henderson, I swear to—”
“Since when you do you say shit like—oh my God, Steve says shit like that. You can’t let him get to you like this, Eddie, you’re too young to die.”
“What does that even mean?”
Dustin keeps jiggling Eddie by the arm as he pulls up to Dustin’s house. Even when his stomach is jangling with nerves, he can’t fight a smile at the kid’s antics.
“Holy shit, this is big,” Dustin says with wide eyes, and it bothers Eddie that he can’t get a hold of what sort of expression is on his face. “This is huge.”
And all of a sudden, it doesn’t seem all that funny anymore.
“It’s not,” Eddie says quietly. “It’s really not. It doesn’t have to be, like… look, Dustin, can we just—if it bothers you, just drop it, and we can pretend like—”
“Wait, what? No.” And now Eddie can read the remorse on his face. “Shit, sorry. Eddie, I didn’t mean, like… big in a bad way, I swear.”
And goddamn it, Eddie trusts him. Of course he does.
“Okay.” He lets out a long sigh, tipping his head back in his seat. “Okay.”
“I just meant… like, you know The Royal Family? In England.”
…What.
“Oh, please, run with this analogy,” Eddie says, a mixture of curious and hysterical, “I’m dying to see where it goes.”
“You know, when they have news, they put it outside the… Palace? Like, on a stand. So people know.”
“Are you fucking implying that you are the public to our… wow, I’m so sorry, Henderson.” Eddie can’t take it anymore; he wheezes with laughter, can’t hide how relieved he sounds. “Next time I’ll ruin your front lawn and put a huge fucking sign there, then you’ll know that—”
“I didn’t mean it literally, asshole. I just…” Dustin shrugs. “Just meant if you wanted to, like… mention it. It would be cool. It is cool.”
“Cool,” Eddie echoes faintly.
“Cool,” Dustin repeats, emphatic.
Jesus Christ, I love you so much.
“Aw, Henderson,” Eddie says, “were you gonna make us a card or something?”
“Do you want a card?” Dustin says dryly.
And yeah, he’s being a little shit about it, but there’s also a note of sincerity hiding in there that has Eddie fighting a lump in his throat. He chuckles through it, flicks Dustin’s forehead.
“C’mon, get out before your mom thinks I’ve kidnapped you.”
“She thinks you’re an angel now, and you know it. It’s horrifying.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m a Saint.”
Eddie waits until Dustin’s at his front door before reversing, watches him with silent fondness as he greets his cat.
He says through the side window, “Hey, Dustin?”
Dustin turns back. “Yeah?”
“We’d have told you first anyway. We were gonna, I swear.” Eddie scoffs. Smiles. “Not our fault you’re Sherlock Holmes, man.”
Dustin smirks, but his eyes are soft. “It was pretty elementary.”
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I'm thinking of leaving town.
The words bounce around Steve's head endlessly. Eddie had said them so casually. Like it wasn't going to be a big deal to anyone that he leaves.
And logically, it's not. It shouldn't be. Eddie's a high school graduate and no longer a wanted criminal, thanks to the shady government that fucked everything up to begin with. The logical next step is getting out of the town that still hates him, even if they're no longer actively hostile, and make something of himself.
And he's not even the first to go. Robin, Nancy, and Jonathan are all off to their chosen colleges and
And Steve doesn't want to stop him from going. He thinks it'll be great for Eddie. He plans to leave town, too, once the kids graduate.
He just thought he'd have more time. To figure out himself. And Eddie. And if they could be SteveandEddie someday.
So, the words continue to bounce around Steve's head for the next three days, until Robin calls him for their weekly catch-up. He asks about college, and her new crush, a girl named Michelle, and if she's still planning to come back for Christmas break. She asks after him, too, what's going on in his life, how he's liking working at hardware store and is it better or worse than Family Video (it's better), and of course asks after everyone left in town.
"Eddie's thinking of leaving," Steve says.
"Oh. Really?" She sounds confused more than surprised.
"Just thinking. He didn't say for sure, but it's on his mind."
"And how are you taking that?"
"I thought we'd have more time."
"How much more time do you need?" Robin's voice is filled with laughter and he can just imagine the playful eyeroll. "It's been eight months. It took you like five seconds to ask out any girl that flirted with you at Family Video."
"Eddie's different."
"I'm just... it's not like you, to not go after what you want."
"Eddie's important."
There's silence on the other line before, "Important enough to love out loud?"
Oh. Oh.
Robin always knows what to say to get Steve to see the obvious thing in front of him in a way that doesn't make him feel like an idiot. "Yeah. Important enough to love out loud. I'm telling him tomorrow."
"Tomorrow? Quick turn around, Steve."
"Yeah, well, you're right. I always go after what I want, and I have to tell him before he goes. Even if he decides to still go, at least he'll know."
"Brave."
"No. Brave would have been doing this six months ago when I first looked at him and thought he looked kissable."
"No, that would have been stupid. You had a gay panic to get through and it was better that Eddie wasn't involved. Trust me."
And he does. Vickie was going through the same panic and had Robin and that... well, there's a reason he asks after Michelle and not Vickie.
"Right. Of course. Five months ago, then."
Robin laughs through the line and Steve feels resolve settle in his stomach.
-
Steve goes to the Munson house directly after his shift. Eddie's van is gone but Wayne's pickup is there, so Steve lets himself in, calling a greeting to Wayne.
"In the kitchen," Wayne calls back.
Steve wanders into the kitchen to see him with a rolling pin in hand and an empty pie plate nearby. "Baking?"
"Sometimes you just want a homemade apple pie," Wayne shrugs, "and there are two ways to do that. Woo somebody who will make it for you, or do it yourself. I'm picking the easier option."
Steve laughs, "alright. Need any help?"
"Recipes over there. Apples need peelin'."
Steve washes his hands and gets to work.
The pie is cooked and cooling, and Wayne has migrated to the couch with a beer since Steve offered to whip up supper. Wayne was going to make lasagna, so Steve starts pulling things from cupboards and the fridge and gets to work.
Eddie returns home as Steve is layering the lasagna in the dish.
"Wayne, I see you hired a chef!" Eddie shouts in the general direction of the living room before hopping up to sit on the counter opposite Steve.
Wayne laughs but doesn't say anything in response.
"Hey Eds," Steve flashes him a smile before getting back to dinner. He tops it off with more cheese and then shoves it into the oven. He grabs the dial timer from its spot in the cupboard and sets it before turning to give his full attention to Eddie.
"What brings you over tonight?" Eddie asks.
"I wanted to talk to you. Ask you something, really."
"Moi?" Eddie places a hand on his own chest, fingers spread and voice filled with fake surprise.
"Mmm, the one and only," Steve says, stepping into Eddie's space. Not close enough to touch him, but enough that he doesn't have room to hop back off the counter.
"And what could be so important that you had to make me dinner about it?"
"Would you go on a date with me?"
Eddie's eyes go wide and his mouth opens and closes a few times before snapping closed. He blinks down at Steve, but Steve's patient. He can wait for Eddie to process. "I- what, you're serious?"
"As a bat bite," Steve says, reaching a hand to rest it on Eddie's side, atop where he knows Eddie is scarred in the same way he is. "I thought I'd have all the time in the world to get there. To the asking. We'd get to know each other better. Deeper, I guess. But then. Well, you said you were thinking of leaving. And I realized I don't have all the time in the world."
Eddie's eyes roam Steve's face. Whatever he's looking for he must find because his legs fall open and he reaches for Steve even as he's already stepping into the space Eddie's created for him. "We can have all the time you want, Stevie."
Steve grins. "I don't want to stop you leaving, if that's what you really want. But, maybe we can postpone that? I want to stay close, until the kids graduate, but after that I'd follow you anywhere."
Eddie brings a hand up to Steve's face and before he's even made contact, Steve's shoving his cheek into Eddie's palm, nuzzling at him like a cat. "No need to be following. I'd rather you walk beside me."
"I can do that, too."
"Jesus, Stevie, I can't believe- I mean, I'd hoped, when you came out, but like," Eddie giggles and it's the sweetest sound Steve's ever heard, "like, it's hard to believe you want me back."
"Take it to the bedroom!" Wayne's shout from the living room startles both of them and they burst out laughing when they make eye contact again.
Eddie's other hand joins his first on Steve's face, and he pulls him into a kiss before they're even finished laughing.
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spookykoolkat · 7 months
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Plus Size!Metalhead!Reader x Eddie Munson smut idiots to lovers!
The reader is Robin’s best friend and has just moved back to Hawkins after studying abroad.
When she returns she is introduced to everyone and quickly becomes part of the gang. Eddie quickly falls for her as the two have quite a lot in common, however, he doesn’t act on his feelings as he thinks the reader is Robin’s girlfriend. Little does he know she has major feelings for him as well but she thinks him and Steve are together. Eventually they are forced to bunk together on a camping trip (orchestrated by Steve and Robin who have been dying for the two to finally admit their feelings) at first things are awkward between the two but they soon heat up into something neither of them expected.
the cabin in the woods - e.m. request*
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an: just a story i tried to convey the best, about two very confused adults who don't really know how to communicate! i hope this does your idea justice it took me FOREVER i'm so sorry 😭 and its so long omg this is my longest work ever PLS I HOPE ITS NOT BORING THANK U FOR SENDING UR REQUESTS I LOVE THEM 🩷🩷 i'm also doing requests for kinktober if anyone wants to send them in :p thank u everyone to all of ur love on all of my fics u dont even Know how much it means to me 🥹
wc: 10.4K
warnings: 18+ ONLY, mentions of mutual pining, explicit thoughts, mentions of eddie and you wishing the other weren't gay, lots of mentions of sexualities, miscommunication, porn with a plot, p in v, (unprotected. do NOT do this), oral sex (m and f receiving), slight ass play, ownership, pet names (sweet girl, baby, princess, pretty, sweetheart, etc)
MINORS NOT WELCOME. DNI!
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IT WAS WEIRD BEING BACK IN HAWKINS, being back in the states in general felt like a culture shock. and disappointing. the euphoric feeling of learning and living in another country for a year was not comparable, and you promised your best friend robin that when you got back, you'd tell her all about it.
over the year you were gone for your studies, she told you about a few people she met while she was in high school, and had been with ever since. she was excited about bringing you to a party the night of your arrival so you could meet everyone, she said you were all she ever talked about, and how excited everyone was to meet you. 
robin was insistent on your attendance, getting small hesitation on your part, and she swore up and down that you'd fit right in. you questioned her judgment sometimes, especially in women, but you had no other reason not to trust your best friend.
you and robin were complete opposites, you were the girl who liked metal, death metal, and occasionally rock music and she enjoyed the oldies, harboring weird talents and interests that you enjoyed learning about. but you clicked so well, meshed together in a way where you could never be separated.
it wasn't long before you arrived at her place, dressed and ready after hitting your house first, and was met with a lethal scream of your name and tears of joy. it didn't take long to catch up, talk, cry, and laugh so the minute robin decided it was time to go to this party, you guys drove into the city together.
"are you excited?!" she dragged as she noticed your fingers tap against your faded gray jeans that were maybe two sizes too bog, hanging low on your hips with the help of a belt. 
"i'm fucking nervous." you admitted and ran your fingers through your hair.
"for what? dude, these are not people who need to be impressed. they're going to love you and i know it!" she exclaimed.
it was a bit before they drove past buildings, and turned into nothing until they pulled into a trailer park. 
“eddie’s trailer was the destination party zone tonight, so, yeah.” robin said as she parked next to a van, presumably eddie’s. you weren’t one to judge a single person, especially not one you didn’t know, so you just nodded with a smile and stepped out of the car. 
you adjusted your black tank top that, unlike your jeans, was maybe two sizes too small and hugged the curves and rolls of your body.
you liked the way you looked, your wrists covered in bracelets with studs and beads on them, your hair parted down the middle and frizzy from the hawkin’s heat. the makeup you had on was minimal, just black eyeliner smudged around your eyes and lipstick that was lined with black and filled in with a blood red. 
robin was so drawn to you when she first met you. she thinks about it as the two wait at his front door, and how she was so lucky to meet you. to bring her out of her shell and be honest with herself.
she knew being with you meant zero judgment, and if someone dared to fuck with you or robin, robin knew you’d be quick to defend her with your life. you honestly reminded her a lot of eddie once she met him, telling him she had a friend that he would just love. he doubted it of course. eddie didn’t think there was another person like him that existed, impossible.
but robin knew, she believed she knew everything. and she made a small promise to herself that she’d help you find someone, even though you insisted on being happy alone. she knew it was true, but when she first met eddie she realized maybe she could play cupid when you came back into town. 
“robin, did you bring the-” eddie said, opening the door, until he looked beside the skinny, jittery girl.
you didn’t blush at the unsaid compliment, you just watched as eddie looked over your full figure.
“eddie… you’re staring,” robin said, looking between you and eddie to make sure he wasn’t scaring you off. you just laughed a little. 
you stuck your hand out and introduced yourself by your name, “i’m robin’s friend.” 
he took it with grace and stuttered out a small hey, as normal as he could but it was indeed weird. eddie looked at robin, gleaming with pride, and he tried to put two and two together, failing miserably. 
“friend?” eddie asked, looking between the two of you before letting go of your hand. 
“yes idiot! she just moved back to hawkins, she’s the one i’ve been talking about!” robin said as she grabbed your hand and dragged you inside. you give him a smile, and a look over, going with your friend. 
she’s the one i’ve been talking about. how could he be so stupid? he totally forgot about this girl he’d been hearing about. robin would go on and on about her friend coming back from another country, and how much she adored this friend and missed this friend and how badly she wanted the group to meet this friend. 
he didn’t think too much about it, he didn’t want to assume. everyone knew robin played for the other team, so he wasn’t sure if you were her friend or her friend. so, he took advantage of the gray area and checked you out as robin introduced everyone to you. eddie saw how robin held her arm, close to her and tight.
he also tried to pay attention to the groups reactions, to see if maybe they had the same idea as him. he was a shit expression reader. he was going to feel bad about staring at this girl,  imagining her in every way he could, if you were in fact robin’s girlfriend. 
as the night went on, it seemed like it got more difficult. you kept seeing him stare at you sitting on the floor in between nancy and robin, he watched you as you drank and laughed and got to know the crowd that robin found herself in. you enjoyed everyone, nancy was such a nice girl to you, constantly asking if you needed anything and if you were okay.
you wondered if eddie would come over to you and maybe try to talk to you, but he just engaged in conversations with steve.
you got to know everyone, who was studying what, if they decided to go to college next fall or not, life plans and enjoying each other’s company. it wasn’t often you were alone, but the minute robin and nancy got up to get another drink from eddie’s fridge, he slithered his way to sit next to you. 
“i was wondering when you were going to stop staring at me,” you spoke, turning your head as you sat crisscrossed in front of the small coffee table.
“i was trying to figure out, and i’m being honest here don’t laugh at me” he warned before speaking again, “if you were real.” 
you laughed a bit more than you expected, feeling it in your tummy and he gave you a pout. 
“and your conclusion?” you asked, taking a sip again. 
“honestly? i’m not so sure yet.” 
it was the beginning of long conversations, laughter, bonding, and hidden flirting. the two of you were dancing around each other, bouncing off of each other's wit and casual snarkiness. 
it was fun, you could admit. and you finally assessed him, his faded metallica shirt was paired with black jeans that might’ve been tighter than yours, almost the same bracelets. his arms were covered in aimless tattoos that were small and looked like they were just drawn on from how many he had. you loved them. 
“i love metallica,” you murmur against your cup, indulging in eddie while everyone talks amongst themselves and listens to the music.
it was loud enough to not hear your conversation if you were someone else, that you were grateful for. you watched as he sat up a bit to glance at his shirt, and gave you a nervous smile.
“wha- oh, right yeah. me too, i can play a few songs on my guitar actually.” he tried to impress after remembering the shirt he was wearing, and it worked. you were a sucker for guitar players, especially ones who preferred metal and rock. 
“oh yeah? are you in a band or something?” you laughed softly, there was no way he was actually in one because it’d make it ten times harder not to want to jump his bones. “what guitar?” you asked excitedly. 
you appreciated the instrument even with no knowledge about it and would appreciate it more seeing him play it for you. eddie liked seeing the excitement on your face, the way you got closer to him sent excitement somewhere else for him. 
“i am actually, maybe i can play for you one day.” he teased and finally, you blushed.
the way his eyes met yours made you want to melt into it, have his gaze consume you whole. he was everything, he was adorable, handsome, sexy, attractive, funny, and god was he charming. he didn’t even have to do much to send you pining after him.
“it’s on my wall, in my room if you wanna see it,” he suggested and you raised an eyebrow, too distracted to remember what he was talking about and he notices, “the guitar, i don’t use it often but i think this one time is an exception, afterall you might just be my favorite guest. wouldn’t want any of my hospitality going to someone like steve,” he joked and steve whipped his head around. 
“i heard that, asshole.” steve replied over the music, sending you to laugh before looking back to eddie who blew him an exaggerated kiss.
“i’d love to see it,"
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you were staying for good, which meant you had all the time in the world with eddie when he wasn’t working at his uncle’s mechanic shop. he would brag about being the one to take over, shaking his head at the thought of going to college.
you didn’t mind though, you told him that college isn’t for everyone and it’s okay going a different route despite ghosted voices that were haunting him about it.
he admired the fact that you were so similar to him, finding himself getting lost in you when you explained the lore of texas chainsaw massacre and actually being interested in it too. he heard everything you said, listened to every story you told about being in france, and helped you through whatever hump you were trying to get over.
you didn’t believe robin when she said he was actually the only other guy she got along with besides steve, and how she believed it would be the same for you. she was right, but you’d never tell her. 
and she’d never tell you her true intentions by introducing you to eddie, and how she wished that maybe he’d open you up enough to the idea of possibly dating again. but, she didn’t really think it through. she figured maybe she’d let the universe handle it, but then started to notice the dynamic of your idea forming about eddie. 
you found yourself at his trailer a lot, smoking his weed that he offered and drinking, watching movies and enjoying the company of one another while robin was busy. 
he gave you soft touches here and there, let you sleep in his bed with him when you were too high to drive back, gave you massages, picked you up when you needed a ride. he was there when you needed him, there at any moment you called for him. 
and so were you. you really liked eddie, the feeling weighing on you everytime you let yourself take his flirting and touches for more than what they were. you felt guilty for lying next to him or on him when you passed out during a movie, you felt guilty for thinking about his lips on yours and on your body. 
the only problem that kept the two of you from indulging in the fantasies you both had was… you strongly believed that eddie was in a relationship with steve harrington. and as for eddie, he was fully convinced that you were off limits because you were going with robin buckley.
and this was the problem robin worried about.
you knew robin was lesbian of course, and she knew you were bisexual. unfortunately, eddie knows robin is lesbian but figured you were lesbian as well. he couldn’t shake the feeling of craving you and wanting you the way he has, and he felt guilty because in his mind you were robin’s girl.
so, all of his dirty thoughts and ideas about you felt wrong, and instantly tried to bury it when one night he found himself wishing you liked men.
but where was the harm in imagination? eddie was so infatuated with you that his self indulgent behavior was harmless. he knew he couldn’t have you, he knew you only saw him as a friend and that was that. but he was so wrong, and so were you. 
he thought of you daily, and in ways that were almost embarrassing. he craved you, the desire and want he had every time you were near was almost uncontrollable. 
you never asked anyone if eddie was gay, to be fair. it wasn’t your place to ask of course, plus you figured if eddie was into you he’d just simply tell you. 
you just assumed, and the way that he and steve interacted all the time made you think maybe they were romantically involved. eddie’s teasing and flirting towards steve made you wonder if eddie was completely off limits, but affirmed it when eddie would plant a wet kiss on steve’s cheek.
you didn’t know, but that was just what eddie did. 
eddie was a flirt, to everyone but robin in their group. even if it was out of nowhere, that’s just how eddie carried himself. of course in your mind, you hoped that he was at least bisexual.
you felt incredibly guilty about that too because regardless if he was bisexual, in your mind he and steve were still a couple. to not only hope he turned out to be bisexual, but to fantasize about someone else’s partner was just incredulous to think about. 
but there you were. daydreaming about the guy who sat next to you almost every other day on his couch after work, and would have to snap back into reality when he asked you if you wanted to smoke.
it was a routine.
you’d say yes, the two of you would smoke and listen to his cassettes, talk about urban legends and myths, movies and how you always felt like you could act—you couldn’t—and topics that seemed to flow between the two of you. 
it was easy with him, and you appreciated it. 
the only thing hard about the relationship you hold with him is that you’re thinking of being face down for him on your bed with your ass pushing against him. you were fighting every nasty thought of your friend, wondering how he’d feel inside of you and if he’d be able to make you cum.
the attraction the two of you had for each was obvious, so obvious that the entire group were pointing it out to each other. 
robin needed a plan. and quickly, because she couldn’t fathom another minute of you denying yourself as well as him just because he thinks you’re lesbian. she didn’t want to address it actually, she wanted to scheme and plot. better to make them think it was coincidental when really she had something to prove. 
robin felt weird about plotting a set up for you, especially because robin knew there was obviously a better and more logical way to approach this miscommunication between you and eddie. so, in hopes of setting the two of you up, robin goes to steve with her probably weird borderline disturbing idea. 
turns out, steve and robin felt the same way. watching you two was just as painful for them as it was for the two of you. thus, mission cabin in the woods was put into place. 
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you regretted this terribly. you weren’t an outdoorsy person even though the place you were staying was like a cabin. just a cabin in the woods, six young adults, left to their own devices for two days. it wasn’t the absolute worst you soon found out, the cabin was right near a lake that had a long extended pier, trees and dirt and grass surrounding you, and a large bonfire opportunity behind the cabin, right before you went to the lake.
it was more modern than anything, as everyone settled in and went around the cabin, pairs started calling dibs on the three rooms, leaving you and eddie the last pair to bunk together. 
“robin, i thought we were going to stay together? what the hell?” you whispered as you grabbed her arm to drag her down the hall away from everyone. you already settled in while eddie quietly took his things to his side of the room. 
“oh! um, right,” she didn’t think of what would happen after phase one of her and steve’s plan, nervously glancing at steve who was peeking at the girls from his door frame.
“steve, i mean you know steve, he needed to talk to me about how he keeps getting rejected by every woman, like ever. he was a little upset about nancy and jonathan rooming together.” 
she was lying, and you followed her awkward gaze to steve, when he immediately withdrew himself from peeking and behind the wall. but you heard a small gasp from that room since it wasn’t too far from where you and nancy stood at the stairs.
it was steve’s gasp, because when he rested his back against the wall and opened his eyes again, eddie was standing there in front of him with his arms crossed. 
“dude, what the fuck,” steve said, and eddie shook his head. 
“i should be saying that to you. care to tell me why on earth i’m rooming with her?” eddie asked condescendingly, expecting the truth. 
“what’s wrong with that? i thought you guys were friends. robin, she needed my advice to-”
“i’m going to ask you again.” eddie said, “why am i not rooming with you?”
steve looked defeated and he hasn’t even tried, but he knew if he gave no excuse it would be worse than a shitty one. he was also a little scared that robin would become unfathomably upset if steve told eddie what was really going on.
and so would you, so before either of the two could mutter out another lie while you and eddie interrogate them unknowingly at the same time, nancy ended up coming out of her room with a grin, 
“i need to go swimming, come on!”
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the entirety of the day you spent at the cabin on your first day of a three day trip, you spent at the lake. not by yourself of course, you and the other two girls swam and tanned as the guys sat in their swim trunks, drinking beers.
to make things more interesting, the three of you decided to have fun diving off the pier and into the lake, splashing each other, and playing marco polo. 
now the three of you swam around each other, keeping yourselves afloat to talk and converse. the conversation started about you being in france again, and if you met anyone there, if you had a french lover for the semester or if you were too busy with your head in books. 
“there was this one girl, god she was like five foot eleven and just, she was so fucking gorgeous. we met at a cafe and we talked for like a few days until she was like, ‘well i don’t really think i’m gay,’ and i was just,” you explained to the girls and paused. “we kissed and i guess she wasn’t into it so i never heard from her again.” 
“you’ve lived like ten lives.” robin deadpanned and it made a laugh bubble to your throat. 
“so you’re bisexual?” nancy inquired, genuinely. “you know i thought you were straight actually.”
“yeah i thought i was a lesbian for like six years but then i started dating this guy during high school but i still liked girls so, figured i was bisexual.” you said with a small laugh, and the girls smiled at you. 
“so, do you think eddie knows?’ nancy asked the two of you as you guys kept afloat in the water and you raised your eyebrow, looking between robin, nancy, and even glancing over your shoulder to the guys who were now smoking so you could look at eddie. 
only for eddie to already be looking at you while you swam in the water. a blush creeped onto your skin, thanking god that your slight sunburn covered it. 
“knows what?” you asked. 
“that you’re not actually a lesbian,” nancy laughed and you heard robin wince and say nancy’s name.  
“what?” you couldn’t help yourself from the high octave in your voice, and nancy looked surprised.
“she didn’t know, nance.” robin said bleakley and nancy mouthed a small sorry to her. 
“explain. now.” you demanded, swimming your way to the pier to pull yourself up and sit on the ledge. the girls followed you but stayed in the lake. 
“well, see, he kind of thinks that we’re together, like girlfriends. and well, fuck,” robin said as she looked behind you and hit her wet hand against her hand. 
“what?” you asked worriedly and saw a forced smile creep onto her lips. 
“hey!! eddie!” robin said dramatically and you looked behind you to see eddie, standing in nothing but his black swim trunks and right in back of you. so much as to where you were practically face to face with his groin. you whipped around quickly. 
eddie was watching you all day. he couldn’t help but watch you. your bikini set didn’t help him either, steve actually had to tell him to close his mouth when you pulled yourself up from out of the water and onto the wooden pier, every movement causing a bounce and jiggle in your body and sending an ache to his cock. 
he was thinking of you so impurely, so twisted that he didn’t even feel like he was being himself. he didn’t understand why he was so obsessed with you, why everything about you made him want you even more. 
“well apparently those two assholes have suffered major injuries to their legs because they both asked me to come over here and tell you two girls,” eddie said pointing with his index and middle finger at nancy and robin, “that you are wanted as of now.” 
you didn’t bother turning around to peer up at him again, instead you just watched the girls look at you, then at each other, then swimming to the stairs of the pier. eddie takes a seat next to you, legs dangling off the pier. you feel the burn of his body heat sitting right next to you, and you look down to see the distinction between your thighs and eddie’s. 
he’s like half your size. 
you were nervous, you knew that you were a bigger girl and didn’t care, but suddenly you felt like you were taking up too much space. but he sat this close to you for a reason, your thighs spilled over to touch his at this point. 
“is it just me or are they acting reaaaaaaaaally weird?” eddie asked, peeling his eyes from the crease between your tummy touching your thigh, and how the bikini bottom you wore pressed into your hip, to robin and steve. he needed to distract himself before he felt himself forming a tent in his not so stretchy swimming trunks. 
you watched robin and steve from across the lake, sitting in lounge chairs and talking, while looking at the two of you. you tried to think back on the way robin had been acting this last month, wondering if she was showing any signs of suspiciousness to understand why she had been so secretive. 
“he kind of thinks we’re together, like girlfriends,”
you were thinking back to finding out you weren’t sharing a room with your best friend, and instead the man you’ve thought about between your legs. 
she was fucking lying. 
“right…. hold that thought, actually.” you said blankly, lifting yourself from sitting on the wooden edge of the pier and fast walking your way to robin’s seat. 
one, it was hard to sit next to eddie without being awkward about his presence. and two, this would be your only time to talk to robin about whatever she had up her sleeve. 
eddie watched you walk off, how could he not, and watched as the pumpkin orange bikini get taken in between your asscheeks. he was definitely enjoying this view of your curvy silhouette, the rolls of your back, where the strings of your bikini bit into. he was enjoying all of this, and he immediately felt his cock harden again as he let himself consume all of you, and the way your thighs jiggled with every step. 
eddie could say he wouldn’t know what love is, which would be true, but whatever it was, he felt it when you came into the picture. he had crushes before, girls in the classes he barely went to, his newest supplier, a girl he made eye contact with once. but you, you torched his body into flames with every touch and laugh. he was consumed by you, his mind only thinking of ways to make you smile, to make you happy. he remembered your favorite foods, what color you chose to wear out more, and even your own childhood crushes. 
he wanted to be buried in them, to feel the way they suffocate him when he’s face to face with your thick core, spreading your lips to taste all of you. he couldn’t name a person that made him feel like you do, and he couldn’t imagine anyone else being made for him like you were. 
knowing eddie’s eyes were on you, you ignored it as you pulled robin up from her seat. 
“you were lying! steve didn’t fucking need your help, you were trying to set me up with eddie!” you hushed out, your cheeks hot. 
“what?! i would ne-” you tilted your head and looked at her blankly. 
“fuck okay, fine but steve helped me too!” your head whipped to steve who glared at robin and held his hands up in surrender. 
“why would you help?” you asked, confused as ever now. you looked between the two as they looked at each other as if they know something you don’t. 
“i mean, why would you want to set us up? eddie’s gay!” you said, as a matter of fact. 
“and he’s dating you is he not?” you asked questionably, pointing to steve and now as you understood their faces more. 
“what? no! you thought he was dating me?” steve exasperated from his seat, which wasn’t that far from where you stood. 
“eddie’s not gay… that’s why we tried to um, set you guys up because both of you thought the other one was dating us. so, we took it upon ourselves.” robin explained and you crossed your arms over your chest to put a hand on your forehead. 
“why would you think me and eddie were dating?” steve kept on, and robin shushed him as she looked back to you. 
“i mean does it seem like we’re dating? like, am i-” 
“steve. not now.” robin said curtly and you tapped your forehead. 
“eddie’s… not gay?” you whispered to yourself and looked back to him, only to see him standing behind you. 
“you thought i was gay?” eddie asked, finding it a little funny. he was amused, at least. not angry. 
“um, steve i need, uh,” robin said and looked at steve. “that thing, you know like that thing i was talking about that time-”
“just go!” you grumbled, keeping your eyes on eddie as you heard their footsteps falter. 
the only sound you can hear is nature, the lake, and your breathing. the sun was going down already, and the pink hue of the sunset coated the sky, and glimmered on eddie’s face. he looked beautiful, his curls were tighter given the lake water from earlier, dry now and his pale body was glistening with a small sheen of sweat from the humidity. 
“you thought i was dating robin.” you said to defend yourself and his eyes went wide.
“you’re not dating robin? but she’s been like talking about you since forever and the way she talks about you━wait so you’re straight?” he said once he remembered what he was talking about. 
“well no, i’m bisexual but, still like men.” you smiled.
there was a shift in the air once those words left your mouth, and when eddie’s eyes fell over your body from your face to your toes, you felt your core clench around nothing. there was something in his eyes that you’d never seen before, knowingly at least, and when your eyes raked over his body, you noticed a bulge in his trunks. 
now you felt bare to him, only in two pieces of small cloth that covered your most vulnerable areas. something that eddie noticed too, knowing that he could get you naked bare for him with a pull and a tug on your swimsuit. 
“so you’re single?” you blurted and bit your lip.
eddie smirked at the question, and stepped a little closer to you. 
“and ready to mingle, baby.” 
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
it was fairly surprising that everyone decided to shower and settle for watching a movie on the tv in the cozy living room. the fireplace was lit, only because it was practically freezing inside. 
you were the last one to shower and after you finally got dressed in the humid bathroom, you ringed your hair dry with your towel and shook the strands apart. you decided that you were ready to hit the sack, wanting to get as much rest as possible before you find yourself out of breath and passing out from heat exhaustion the next day while you’re on your hike with the group. they wanted to actually try the whole campsite thing, roasting marshmallows and drinking water out of a can, meanwhile you just wanted to go dip in the lake again. 
you decided to say goodnight to everyone who was downstairs, half already snoring, sprawled out on the floor. one person you didn’t see was eddie, who you actively looked for until you guessed he was in the restroom. your heart was already in your chest as your feet hit each stair, only taking you further to having to spend eight hours in the same bed with eddie munson. 
maybe you were nervous. the thought of feeling this guy lay next to you in bed was putting a flutter in your tummy, everything felt like it flipped upside down when the confusion was cleared up between the two. no one ever made you feel like this, not even the six foot straight french girl who seduced you. 
before you could even open the door to the room you were hoping that you’d be asleep by the time he came upstairs, just so that the ache between your legs would finally settle down. but to your dismay, you opened the door to eddie, shirtless and laying on his back over the comforters. 
he sat up without a second thought, and you almost got whiplash with how quickly he moved and looked at you. 
“i can take the floor if you want,” suddenly you felt small. it was a weird feeling, but walking into this room to sleep with him only felt like it was an invitation for more. and you wanted more. 
“no it’s okay, i’m just ready for bed.” you said and smiled, closing the door and going to the right side of the bed. 
“can i turn this off?” you asked looking over your shoulder just to see him looking at the bare skin of your back that your skimpy little shirt didn’t cover. 
“you can do whatever you want, princess.” he muttered under his breath and you turned your head, smiling and pulling the beaded string until you heard a click. his lamp was still on as you pulled your legs into the lifted covers, sliding down to lay on your side and face the opposite direction of eddie. 
eddie on the other hand was thinking of what to say as he turned his lamp off, doing the same maneuver you did to get comfortable, except he was facing you. staring at your back again, his eyes went lower until the blanket was resting at the curve of your waist. he noticed where your shirt copied the and molded your rolls and back. 
eddie felt like now it was a free-for-all. knowing you’re not tied down to someone, and knowing you were still very attracted to the opposite sex. 
“steve and robin tried to set us up didn’t they?” he asked you from behind, his voice still very close to you. 
“they did,” you confirmed, softly. 
“did you want to be set up with me?” he asked, a little nervous. 
“if i tell you then robin and steve would be right.” you said and turned awkwardly to face him, now eye to eye. he couldn’t help but notice the way your tits pressed together. 
“who said we have to tell them the truth?” 
his hand didn’t waste a second to press into your cheek, his thumb rubbing over your lips to trace them. 
“you really want me?” eddie asked. 
there it was, the shift in the dark air that was only scarcely lit by the full moon flooding in through the bare window. 
you didn’t answer, you only shifted from your position to your knees, moving the blanket off of eddie to see his pale white skin, and straddle his hips when he laid on his back. your hands moved to his chest to steady yourself and his hands fell naturally to the dip of your curve, gripping into the fat of your hips.
he tilted his head to look up at you, your hair cascading down your shoulders to create a sort of shield around your face. he couldn't help but tug at a strand,making you smile. 
you just decided to go for it. all the nervousness and teasing and flirting built up to this, when you leaned down to press your lips into his. 
it was odd because eddie pictured this moment just like this, with you straddling him in just shorts and a loose fitting tank, watching your soft lips come closer to his with your eyes closed. you were so fucking cute, and he tried to constrain himself from going wild by digging into your skin. 
the kiss was soft first, eddie let you move your lips on his before he found a rhythm and moved with you, gentle, soft, teasing kisses to test the waters. you were growing wet with every minute you fixed your lips to his, using one hand to put right under his jaw, rubbing his throat with your fingers. 
you thought maybe eddie was just enjoying the kiss way too much as you got a little more messy, the two of you giving hard kisses, but the minute you felt something poking your inner thigh, you realized you had been grinding down on him the entire time. 
you pulled away first, leaving him just as breathless as you, but he followed you and sat up with you, chasing your lips. he had a dumb grin on his face, looking over your disheveled look to see where you two met. god, she looks fucked out already. 
“eddie?” you hummed, letting your fingers trace the small tattoos and the ones that lead to his manhood. 
“fuck, yes baby?” he breathed and watched you take your plush lip between your teeth and sit back fully on his clothed cock. he let out a strained groaned and it brought a smile to your face. 
“can i suck your dick?,” you asked unabashedly, “i’ve always wanted to, wanted to taste you,” 
eddie was practically already close to exploding in his pants, and you felt the throbbing of his cock against your ass now that he’s fully hard. you were sure that a wet stain would be left on his light colored pajama pants.
“you can do whatever you want with me doll, i’m for your pleasure,” he said as he watched you slide back down between his knees, eddie spreading them so you had more room to lay between him, and you rubbed at the skin above the hem of his pants to admire the growing bulge that was asking for relief, pleading. 
“you’re so fucking pretty, baby, can’t fuckin’ believe i could’ve had you since the beginning,” he said in a hushed voice. 
you didn’t take long to drag his pants down to his ankles letting eddie kick them off as your eyes stayed pointed at his cock. it looked almost painful, for you and him. he was throbbing, his cock jerking against his abdomen. you salivated, looking at him as you grabbed his shaft at the base and softly stroked him lazily, looking at every vein, every little freckle, and the waay his slit dripped with beads of pre cum. 
it was a sight to see. you heard eddie’s low moans as he sat up against the headboard, getting a view of you jerking him. 
“you’re dick is so pretty,” you murdered as you watched your fingers tease his slit to use the precum as some sort of lubricant, massaging the head. he let you take full control of him, and the way he tries to buck into your fist made your cunt clench around nothing. 
“baby, please,” he begged as you kept your lazy pace up. he was craving your mouth and before he could ask again, you directed his tip into your mouth to let your tongue swirl and play with the angry head. 
“ah, fuck-shit,” he hissed, finally feeling your mouth envelop him entirely, not faltering when you tried to stuff as much of his as you possibly could. you hollow your cheeks as you sucked him gently twice, releasing him with a pop, and smiling. 
he was focused on only you, not the laughter that came from downstairs, not the crickets singing outside of the window, only the way you went back down to take him in your mouth, reaching the back of your throat this time and gagging. 
“my fuck- fuck oh my god,” he strained, letting his hands find your hair to get a better view of your face. 
“so fucking good, taking my dick so well baby,” he praised and you moaned with your mouth still taking all of him, keeping the steady pace of bobbing, up and down his shaft with a hand wrapped around his girth, following the same motion of your mouth. 
it was a euphoric feeling eddie had, to see his crush be the one to take, or try to take all of him. the girl he’d dream about, think about going down on, was laying between his legs playing with his cock like it is your favorite thing to do. 
and slowly, it was becoming your favorite thing. your air was coming in through your nostrils as you cupped his balls, using the slobber that was falling down his cock to massage and fondle them as you flattened your tongue under the base of his shaft, forcing yourself to take all of him. he was trying to cover his moans with pants, but it wasn’t happening.. 
“fuck, just like that, you’re fucking filthy,” he said sitting up fully now so the top of your head was touching his belly button, still letting your drool and spit create a mess under your hands. you were loving this even when your jaw was crying, you liked being the center of attention for eddie. 
you released him again with a long string of spit connecting from your lips to the head of his cock, sitting up on your knees to become eye level with him, still using the spit to jerk him. your grip tightened, loosened, and teased around his red tip to watch his buck, and jerk his body to you. 
“need you to fuck me, please,” you asked politely, the spit still on your chin, your eyes watery and your nose a little runny. taking all of him was impossible for you, maybe with his help he’d be able to squeeze the rest of him down your throat to make room, but that was for another time. 
eddie’s eyes were on yours, then back between your two bodies to see how your hand worked against him, he felt the heat building up in his stomach, feeling the strings snapping with every stroke. 
before he could even release, he grabbed your wrist and halted your movements, using your vulnerability to flip you on your back, gripping your wrists beside your head. 
“so you do want me?” he queried, and you giggled. 
“no eddie, of course i don’t want you, i’m totally not soaking my panties right now,” you said unbelievably sarcastic as he moved to kiss your cheeks, your neck, licking your jawline and kissing you once more on your lips before he straddle you. 
“you’re gonna lay there, your hands up just like this, and you’re gonna be a good girl and take it, yeah?” he shifted, his voice dark and his eyes pitch black as he grinds his naked cock into your thin shorts. 
“eddie,” you pleaded, not wanting to keep your arms in the fixed position he held them in. 
“need you out of these fucking clothes now,” he said and immediately yanked your shorts and panties down, moving to your shirt. 
“take it off for me,” he encouraged and you did, reaching your tank and arching your back to get rid of it. he marveled at your complete nakedness, spreading your legs to situate himself between them. lifting your legs in the air while spreading them, eddie leaned back to take a mental picture of the way your pussy was dripping for him. slick sliding between the cheeks of your ass, over your hole and onto the bed sheets. 
“this all for me? no one else?” he asked as he tugged on his cock, stroking himself. 
“yes, you, only you, please,” you were bracing for the impact of his hardness pressing and stretching you out, but instead you felt the pads of his fingers trace down your tits, to your belly, to your fupa, and spreading the fat of your pussy lips to see all of you completely.
what he conjured up in his mind was nothing near the actual sight. it was breathtaking, the way your hair fell into a ring around your head, how your tits moved and jumped with every movement you made, the way your belly creased and curved with your legs mid air, the way your thighs looked so meaty with his inbetween. this was heaven, and you were god. 
he watched you completely as he sat back on his achilles, your legs still spread for him like the good girl you were, and teasing your clit. 
“i need to taste you,” eddie groaned, taking the wetness from your clenching hole up to your clit, rubbing smooth circles. 
“eddie, no fuck, please i wanna be full, please,” you moaned, louder than you intended, “you’re just so fucking big, and fucking pretty i just need t’ feel you, need all of you please eddie, give it to me,” 
he’d never seen you so fucking responsive, so vocal with him. he was remembering the way your voice dripped with urgency, and seduction. he couldn’t ever tell you no, even in circumstances of being fully clothed and feet away from each other. 
“just a taste, please baby,” he bargained, too distracted with the way your cunt sounded as he plays with your pussy. he was teasing your hole at this point, threatening to let you feel the stretch of one finger until he got too impatient to wait for your answer. he quickly dove down onto his stomach, letting his arms hook around your thighs and latching onto your cunt like a fucking bottle. 
“you-what the fu-, my god,” you tried to spit it out, but fuck his tongue swirling around your clit and the way his fingers kept your lips spread made you grind against his hand, moving your hands from where eddie told you to keep them and into his curly hair before he pulled up and landed a small slap on your pussy. he watched in enjoyment as it jiggled. 
“what’d i tell ya, keep those fucking hands right there baby, be good for me yeah?” he breathed, going back down to lay on his stomach, arms hooked even tighter now. Your hands were thrown up above your head, gripping onto the edge of the bed to stop yourself from yanking his long hair. 
“eddie, please, fuck,” you moaned out, the feeling of his finger inching inside you was a fucking tease. 
“shit, didn’t know you’d be this tight for me, needa stretch you a little bit, that okay?” 
“yes, fuck eddie it’s okay, just, fuck i need more,” you found yourself out of breath, eddie’s arm reaching from your thigh to toy with your nipple, watching every reaction he pulled from you. 
“pretty fucking pussy baby, look at you, taking my fingers so good for me,” he continued with the praises, the small words as he released your clit to focus on the way you were sucking his fingers, your walls gripping him tight. 
“fuck baby, cum for me, need to taste more of you,” he groaned, unable to help himself when his puts you back into the position of having your calves resting on his shoulders. until he folds you even more with his large hands, to where your knees are touching your shoulders, or at least as far as he could bend you to his preferred shape with your belly in the way. but he liked it, he loved seeing you so mendable for him, pushing your limits of how much you can take. 
he wanted you to be pon full display for him, being able to see both holes shine with your wetness.he practically held your ankles bound together to push against your chest, going back down for the third time to watch your cunt spread for him like this, to watch how you leaked down to your asshole. 
he licked a wide stripe from your clit to your asshole, licking and spitting on your tight hole to start rubbing his thumb to create a ring of spit on it. 
“tell me you want me, princess,” he ordered, eyes trained on the sight in front of him. 
“eddie i want you, fuck, fu-,” you breathed and tried to gasp for air, “need it,” 
“so good baby, look at you holding those pretty legs for me, let me eat you right,” you didn’t even notice your hands went from the edge of the bend to your legs, holding yourself spread open just for him. If anyone walked in right now, they’d see everything. 
the way you were laid for him made you wetter by the second, never being folded or manhandled this way, but as he grabs the cheeks of your ass to move and spread them, he spits on your cunt again and goes back to brutally assaulting your oversensitive bud. 
that pressure on your spine was familiar, and the way you felt tingles spread from your inner thighs to the rest of your body, even your legs going weak as you struggled to keep your eyes on his. it was beautiful, mesmerizing even the way he ate your pussy. it was pornographic, the slurping and wet sounds were only growing louder as eddie shook his head, his ose rubbing against your clit when he goes to lick and fuck your hole with his tongue at the same time. 
“i’m, cum, gonna-fuck eddie, im fuck-” you couldn’t even get it out before your eyes were clenched, your pussy pulsing and throbbing, pushing all of your release out of your hole where eddie was to lick up every drop.
the moans were eccentric, he’d never heard you this way and seeing you come undone because of him made his cock scream for touch. it was something he could listen to for hours, only wanting to finger fuck you and eat your sweet cunt just so he could listen to the little noises that made him feral.
“need to feel you sweet girl, let me fill this pussy,” he lets your legs fall from where they rested after you went slack during your orgasm, letting your feet plant on the bed bent at the knees. 
“can’t fucking  think when you’re looking at me like that, princess, do you want me to cum already?” he smiled, watching you watch him with pure adoration and desire, not seeing him as a freak or a lowlife.  
he saw your softness in your eyes, soothing a part of him that has never been healed until now. 
“please, eddie i want you to make me cum again,” you gasped, lifting your head a little to look over your stomach as much as you can, now letting your eyes lazily travel between eddie’s eyes and where he prodes your entrance with his tip. 
he took pride in the way he made you feel, how you looked sweaty and cockdrunk already. he couldn’t get enough of your frizzy hair surrounding you, and the smell of your shampoo mixing with sweat. 
“can’t believe you want me, you’re unbelievable,” he said, letting his cock slip between the fat of your pussy lips. he wanted to be covered in you, all of you. 
“you’re so big, eddie,” you groaned, feeling his length slip back and forth between your wetness. 
“you want it, baby? want me to fuck this pretty pussy?” he asked, his palm flat against the bed next to your head, gripping his manhood with the other. 
“fuck eddie, yes i need it, need all of you fuck,” you cried, gripping thr back of his neck to lift your head a little, watching your hips try to pushed down on him. 
“let me watch you take it, yeah? wanna see you stretch just for me, only for me,” 
he sat up on his knees and spread your legs, lifting them to rest on his shoulders as he admired your glistening sex. every part of you felt like you were burning up, all of your nerves subsiding and turning into pure greed for him, your want stronger than anything else. 
he pushed in slowly, softly, watching the fat head slip and disappear into your tight hole. 
“holyfuckingshit,” he rushed, watching you take him with a little resistance. it felt like a sting, but spreading into pleasure when you feel his balls against your asshole, filling you up completely. 
now, he pressed into your legs to fold you again, this time he was able to watch you and force you to see him as he ruined you for anyone else. 
“you’ve got to be kidding me,” he was out of breath already, the few slow strokes he did to the sound of your moans were to stretch you enough for him to lose control on you. 
“so, f-, so fucking big,” you almost felt the wind get knocked out of you as you feel the loss of his warmth and length, only to be pushed back into you with more force. hitting the back of your cervix repeatedly, he was lazily smiling at the sounds you were making for him. 
“oh baby, there you go, sound so fucking pretty for me,” he encouraged, letting his arms hook around your thighs for more leverage. he pushed you up a little further, almost bringing your chest to your chin as he pounded you harder. 
“e-eh, fuck, eddie, s’ lot- it’s, oh eddie,” you cried watching him, grinning with an open mouth as he pants out groans and moans from the way you gripped his cock. felt better than anything and anyone he’s ever fucked. 
“what, too much for my pretty girl? what happened?” he cooed, “thought you were, fucking hell, thought you could handle it,” he teased, taking your legs from his shoulders and using his hands to grip at your ankles, spreading further so that your legs are flailing in the air as he fucks you. 
it was fucking intense. you couldn’t make sense of anything but him buried inside you, the way your cunt twitched and squeezed around him, and just how close you were to another orgasm. 
“fuck, this pussy is mine.” he growled, gripping the fat of your stomach and waist, massaging, “always gonna be mine, sweet baby.” 
“tell me, sweetheart . tell me whose pussy this is and i’ll, jesus fucking christ,” he was cut off by the clenching of your cunt, your hole rapidly pulsing as his two fingers dove down to play with your clit, rubbing in lazy fast circles. 
“i’ll let you cum, tell me baby,” he urged and you tried to form the words, but nothing but sounds were coming out. the way your breasts jumped with every hard thrust, the way your fat jiggled on your thighs and tummy, how smooth and warm you felt under him, he was losing his mine. 
not to mention your little sounds. the whimpers, the silent begging, the cries and gasps for air, it was going straight to his cock that was already starting to twitch from your eyes on him. 
“it’s yours eddie, only you fill me up like this, please,” you finally mustered up the words, and you felt your own ball in your tummy growing bigger and bigger with the way you obsered eddie. 
out of breath, his hair was clinging to his sticky face and his silver chains he never took off dangled above you. you watched as his muscles flexed and gripped the hard biceps when he pulled you in for an embrace, holding you as he fucked you. 
your forehead rested against his right shoulder, peeking down to watch the sloppy mess between you grow wetter and messier. he looked down with you, pressing kisses into your damp hair and face. 
“look at that baby, creamin’ all on my dick, my fucking messy girl,” he was aggressive, more aggressive than you’d ever seen him and so much more filthy than anyone could comprehend. 
“look so good, fucking me,” you whispered, not even trying to get him to hear but he did. and he was encouraged by it, looking down again as he heard your labored pants in his ear. it was a beautiful sight. 
your pussy lips enveloped him completely, letting his length reach the deepest parts of you over and over again. your arousal was dripping down your ass even more now that the two of your juices were mixing together, and forming a white-ish ring around his cock. and it just kept building with every thrust, sending your pussy to clench around him again. 
your head was completely empty, nothing but the sensation of being filled to the brim over and over. it was incredible, and having already reached your peak once, to do it again was going to ruin you. 
he was already ruining you, the way he turned so dirty so fast, how he spoke to you and watched you completely. he took all of you in as much as he could and let himself watch you undo beneath him. 
“cum on my dick, baby,” he said, “pussy feels so fucking good sweet girl, don’t wanna fuckin’ pull out,” he sounded like he was slurring, and his fingers went faster on your overstimulating bud. 
he felt the clench of your cunt at his words. “aw you like that? wanna be full of me? give you my babies?” 
it was impossible not to scream no, tell him that mentioning babies was practically a threat to you, but the way he moaned those words as his hand went up to your throat just to grab a hold of you, and his other started to toy with your nipples. 
“eddie,” you dragged, crying out with your back arching when you felt your buildup finally crash over him. you didn’t even need to tell him, he could feel it by the way you twitched and how you clenched so hard you practically pushed him out of you. 
“fuck baby,” he said as he fucked your hole with his tip, the feeling of the curve and edge of the fat cockhead was a different sensation, and as he kept fucking you like that, slow and soft, you felt an oddity in your new buildup. 
it was faster, stronger, and as he teased your hole with just his tip, you were cumming again, but this time it was wet. you could heard the small gush over his cock, coating him and his pelvic bone as he gleamed at the sight below him and feeling his own release starting to snap. 
“fuck, eddie please, you fuck me so good,” you breathed as you pulled him flush to your chest, letting him still slip in and out of you lazily. 
“fill me, please, fuck i don’t care i need it, mark me, make me yours. please, its your pussy please cum inside of me,” you whispered in his ear in a cry, scratching down his pale back as he moaned against you. the vibrations of his noises sent a tingle all over your body, your nipples hardening again. 
the thought of eddie getting you pregnant was intense. for you at least, for eddie, he thought it was the best decision to ever make. of course he’d fill you up. why would he have the opportunity and not take it? he wanted everyone to see you knocked up with the freak’s baby, he wanted everyone to know even if you were too smart and too goddess looking for him, he had you. 
it was even sending another pulse to your cunt, letting your weak and abused hole tiredly clench on his. you were losing your breath at this point, you’d never been fucked and pleasured like this ever, never for this long either. 
he made sure to worship you, to cherish you, to make you feel sexy. he wanted to make you see what he saw, make you feel the way you made him feel. and this was it. 
he was falling in love with you, the way he felt like you were made for him even now was pulling at his insides, pulling hard enough to finally let him still his hips inside of you and letting his cock twitch at the deepest part of your cunt. 
“fucking, mine. my fucking pussy,” he groaned into your chest, your hands gripping in his hair and rubbing on his scalp. 
“s’ yours, only yours,” you said softly as you felt his cock twitch even more, until he groaned and slipped out of you. 
it was a new feeling, still feeling full even though all contact was lost between you two. still feeling warmth inside your cunt, until you felt the mixture of both of your releases leaking out of your hole and sliding down your ass. your eyes were closed after he got off of you, and you weren’t sure how he put on his clothes so fast but when the door opened again you saw him walk back in with a wet rag. 
“baby?” he asked, craning his neck to see your face in the dark. 
“mmm?” you hummed, still laying on your back after turning your head back to the ceiling. 
“let me clean you up and we can go to bed, does that sound good princess?” he asked, sitting on the edge of the bed to separate your legs again. 
you expected to feel the coldness of the rag, but you instead felt his fingers softly spreading your pussy lips apart and it sent a chill through you. 
“look so good like this, fuck, i think i really truly want to die by your pussy. please?” he said, letting his finger dip his cum back inside of your whole. 
“eddie,” you dragged, clenching your thighs together. he just smiled and chuckled a little. 
“alright, lets get cleaned up and you can take my shirt,” 
you lay there, trusting eddie as your eyes fluttered closed and felt him wipe between your legs and wipe your thighs, finding his shirt that he threw on a chair in the corner to bring back to you, but he already hears the soft snores coming from your body. 
he shook you a little before you finally opened your eyes again and smiled sheepishly at him, before listening to his commands and following them, still half asleep. 
all he asked was that you sit up and raise your arms, and he tugged the faded iron maiden shirt that was too big for him, but fitting just loose enough on you. before he could even pull the covers over you, still with your eyes closed, you gripped the blankets and pulled them over your bare legs up to your chin, and nestled into the softness. 
eddie was a man who did his fair share of sleeping around, with all types of people, and he’s been with older, smaller, skinnier, taller, bigger. but being with you, watching you and being able to sleep next to you was a fucking blessing he didn’t deserve. 
so he indulged in it, letting himself wrap you in his arms and holding you until you push him off because you’re too sweaty. 
but you don’t do that. you let eddie hold you all night even after hardly any words were exchanged after. and in your dream that night besides dreaming about your future with eddie, was a dream of you thanking robin and steve for their ridiculously foul plan. 
a ridiculous foul plan that worked. 
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powderblueblood · 5 months
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HELLFIRE & ICE — eddie munson x f!oc as enemies to star-crossed lovers
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CHAPTER THREE — EDDIE MUNSON COMMITS TREASON (BREAKS UP a CAT FIGHT)
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summary: you deal with the fallout of your fight at steve harrington's party... in the passenger seat of eddie munson's van. so much for pretending you didn't exist to one another, huh? content warnings: as always, MINORS FUCK OFF, because we have *deep breath* implied fantasy smut, lots of swearing, confused yearning, themes of threat, heavy snark, another mention of the drink tab which i feel like is/was gross word count: 7.2k
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Dear Dio, Tommy Iommi, Gary Gygax, Pee-wee Herman, Ronnie Ecker — forgive me for what I’m about to do. 
I know I’ve done a lot of stupid shit in my life. Like the time I lit all my hair on fire and spent middle school with a buzz cut. Or the time I almost trapped myself in a spread eagle with my own handcuffs. Or the time I got my arm stuck in a wall for an entire afternoon when I was trying to rescue a feral cat. 
I’ve done a lot of stupid shit. But the stupidest among it all has got to be saving this girl from the bare knuckle wrath of Carol Whatsername. You know the one. 
Tonight, for whatever reason, this insane ex-rich chick has decided to teeter on the edge of a pool of boiling hot lava and for whatever reason, I feel like it’s my responsibility to yank her back.
Which sucks, because she’s a total bitch to me. 
Even if she just told everybody Tommy Hagan had crabs and has been cheating on his girlfriend in such a deranged way that it almost made me pop a semi. 
Anyway. Tell my guitar I love her. 
The world around Eddie slows to the tick of a football game replay as you let the last incendiary word you speak to Carol bounce around the goddamn Roman amphitheater Harrington’s back yard has become. 
This is insane. What he’s watching is insane. Like, he knew you and your dumb little court of Hawkinsites bickered back and forth, but you’re the last person he’d ever expect to air their dirty laundry like this. 
It’s incredible to watch the fascist leadership that he and the rest of the social nobodies have suffered under for so long rupture in real time. 
What’s even more incredible is how little hesitation there is on his part, shoving through the crowd when he sees Carol leaping for you. Eddie’s nearly jostled backwards by some slobbering roid heads— they’ve already called CAT FIGHT! and a crowd is clamoring. But Eddie’s got years of thankless equipment lugging behind him, giving him deceptively strong arms.
And thank god, because you are not an easy girl to hold onto. 
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Carol lands a decent punch to your face, slamming with a dull knuckle-on-cheekbone crunch that makes all the onlookers, including him, go ooof! You stagger back in a state of shock (though, c’mon, you heard what you said just now, right?) and Eddie takes his shot just as you dive forward to retaliate.
He grabs you under the arms so you can’t like, elbow him in the fucking nose, a pale imitation of an illegal wresting move that Al Munson had forced him to learn at the tender age of seven. His dad had fancied himself a wrestling manager at the time— you can imagine how that worked out. 
But Jesus, can you ever squirm! Your body writhes against him—stop—hips bucking—don’t go there—as you try to get free. He doesn’t even think you realize who’s dragging you away from the screaming harpy, otherwise you’d probably turn your fury on him. 
He takes full advantage of the rage blackout and manhandles you through the party, earning a baffled look from Steve Harrington, who’s finally graced his own party with his presence. A pinch-faced Nancy Wheeler lingers behind him, but then again, Wheeler’s always all pinch-faced.
“What the fuck?!” Harrington breathes, exasperated. 
Eddie struggles against you struggling, just about dragging you over the front doorstep. Trust this guy to be upstairs in a domestic dispute, missing all the action while getting no action. 
Even in the chaos, Eddie will never pass up an opportunity to fuck with Harrington.
“You gotta start hidin’ your bath salts, man! Chicks are going crazy in there–Evil Dead type shit!” 
“You’re dead, Lacy! Monday morning, you are fucking dead!” Carol screams down the hallway. 
“It’s a date, bitch!” you screech, Munson’s nelson hold on you stronger than your thrashing. With a lot of work, he manages to haul you as far as Harrington’s front yard before you wriggle out of his grasp. You shove him, hard, all white hot and punch drunk and regular drunk on top of that. 
He yelps, high and frightened. You weren’t expecting a noise like that to come out of a surly-looking dude like him. 
So you do it again. 
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” you spit, and Munson flinches.
“Cutting you off!” he exclaims, this half-yell, half-laugh. It stings, the way he’s looking at you– like your anger isn’t anger, like it’s just amusing to him. 
“Well, who gave you the right? Who died and made you my parole officer, Munson?!” 
“Oh, I’m not– but I also didn’t feel like being woken up at home when the cops come looking for you after you go all Raging Bull on Carol. You haven’t been around the park long enough to hear ‘em, but those sirens really perforate the eardrums!”
Your jaw sets itself stiffly and you bind your arms over your chest. Unfuckingbelievable. “I would’ve, you know,” you breathe, seething, “Beat her up.” 
Munson’s dark eyes glide over you, like he’s checking you for concealed weapons or signs of a zombie bite— you avoid his gaze entirely, staring square into the middle distance. 
You promised that he didn’t exist to you, yet here he is. Driving you off the road. Breaking up your fights. Existing.
“Yeah, I know you woulda. You’re scary,” he says. You shrug, and he reaches to massage his shoulder. “And strong. Shit.” 
Your eyes flick over to him, but you don’t feel bad. You don’t feel bad because he’s grinning at you now and despite yourself, despite everything that’s transpired and the everything about him, you’re trying your hardest not to grin back. Adrenaline and vodka are still burning a hole in your chest. 
“Stay out of my way, then.”  
“Noted, but,” a couple of steps from Munson’s end closes some space between you. He’s peering at your face, right where Carol clocked you. A hand reaches out, angling your chin closer to the Harrington’s glaring porch light with his fingertips. You stiffen and squint, performatively wary, but you don’t stop him. You just let his eyes pan over you, looking anywhere but into them. “You might need a little first aid first. And a ride home.” 
“I was actually planning on carjacking Hagan,” you say coolly, the smile you were trying to beat away edging its way across your face. Munson releases your chin and the spot where his fingers were buzzes. It’s just the cold. It’s just your slutty librarian outfit, you tell yourself. You have to swallow in order to speak again. “Seems like fitting payback.”
“Jesus, sweetheart, what did I just say about cops?”
Eddie tolerates your eyes rolling back in your head when he props the passenger door open for you, helping you into the cluttered van with an outstretched had. 
See, I’m not the kind of asshole who doesn’t open doors for girls wearing stilts for shoes.
Those things were not made for clambering into a vehicle like this, sure, but they’re– nice. For what he knows about shoes, which is nothing. They make your legs look more… leggy, and for whatever reason this is making his brain soft. 
In your other hand is a cold can of High Life, which is the closest thing to an ice pack he could nab. That bruise blooming under your eye is going to be nasty, and he’s a little curious how you’re gonna look with it. You, with nary a hair out of place on a bad day, with a big ol’ purple shiner in a place that’s hard to hide.  
Gunning out of Harrington’s hood, a silence settles between Eddie and you. The radio hums in the background– a mainstream station for once. He thoughtfully figured that an aural assault by Sabbath would kinda rub salt in your wound. 
He’s thoughtful, but he’s not not nosy. So, of course he’s gonna ask– 
“That whole… verbal smackdown back there,” Munson starts after clearing his throat. “With Tommy H and everybody.”
On your end, the adrenaline has worn off and the numbing effects of the booze have amped up. You feel loose and warm, apart from the beer can cooling your bruise. There are twice as many streetlights streaming past you as usual. This is going to blow later– if you don’t blow chunks first. 
“All that about your dad pimping me out?” God, I mean, Hagan couldn’t compose a written sentence to save his life but maybe he had a future in speculative fiction. Did he just come up with that on the fly? “Take a wild guess, Munson.” 
Eddie recoils in his seat– gross. Gross. “Not the– the shit with Tina and Carol and–”
“Oh, the crabs? Yeaaaah, that’s true,” you slur, “But I rejected Tommy waaay before I knew that. Call it my brilliant instinct. And then he has the nerve to call me frigid, which– trust me, I’m anything… anything but.”
Munson seems a little surprised at this. You can see it in the way his eyebrows dart under his curly bangs. 
But you’ve had your share of disappointing experiences with the blandly acceptable boys in your circle– it’s par for the course, it’s part of advancing in the field. You can’t throw your cat into the street completely, but god forbid you be choosy about the boys you want to copulate with. The ones you’ve hooked up with, all unremarkable and perfunctory, always seemed so smug afterwards. Like they’d conquered something. 
But from Eddie’s purview, you always held yourself like you were above everyone else; not just the underclassmen and the social rejects, but even your own friends. He’d watch you sometimes, because it’s hard not to watch you. He’d wait for the few flickering moments you let your guard down, when you thought no one was paying attention as you sat at the lunch table or walked the hallways. So achingly unamused by the guffawing, the backslapping, the forced camaraderie of your forced high school persona and your forced high school friends. Then, one of them would say something like, Right, Lacy? and your brow would unarch and you’d be right back in the groove with the rest of them, giggling dumbly and glossing your lips. 
He always wondered how you did it, tolerated it. And why.
“Now, far be it from me to agree with a shithead like Hagan–and I don’t, before you get scary–but I kinda get where he’s picking that up,” Eddie winces, throwing a glance to you, glassy-eyed with your head against the window. You’re looking at him with narrowed eyes, eyeliner smudged. Even that look could cut down a man with twice his ego. “You’re a little bit frosty. Cold shock in the middle of a summer’s day– which, y’know, could be–”
You absolutely do not let him finish the thought.   
“It’s caaaalled being aloof, Munson,” you drawl, shuffling your shoulders against the passenger door and pulling a stray thread from your skirt with a sharp snap. “Playing hard to get, duh? Leave them wanting more? You wouldn’t get it because you’re so goddamn big and obvious all the time…”
“Obvious!” he brays, letting his jaw hang open with theatrical flair, “Obvious! Lacy, you wound me, I–”
“Obvious,” you bark back, “Obvious like a neon sign, obvious like a circus tent, obvious like– like– look at me, look at me, I’m a weirdo!” Your Munson impression, complete with devil horns, is a little dorkified but it shuts him right up. That loose little tongue of yours has trasmuted your mood from wrath to barbed silliness. “So obvious you wouldn’t know that kind of subtlety. Not if it hit you in the face.” 
A familiar tune whistles from the radio, distracting you. “… or cause you’re a virgin.”
“Okay—!“ Eddie starts, immediately assuming the position of point guard. His hackles are raised, but to be honest, he’s so willing to let you ramble on. It’s the first time he’s heard you talk this much, ever, save your little tête-à-tête by the lockers the other day. 
Eddie doesn’t want to stem the flow just yet. He’s not thinking about it too hard.
“Oh shit, do you hear that?” Like a Virgin pumps from the tinny speakers and you reach to turn it up, your head drunkenly bobbling on your neck. Eddie winces; it’s so weird, watching you like this. It’s like dream logic. It’s like opposite day. “Munson’s a virgin! I’m gonna touch him for the very first tiii-iime! Munson’s a vii-iir-gin—“
“First off, no I am not and no,” he audibly swallows, positive you didn’t realize what you just sang, “no, you are not, ‘cause— well.” He clears his throat. A flare of heat burns around his collar. “I’m not the type to bone and tell.”
“Bone and tell.” You guffaw, a sound so unbecoming yet so endearing coming from you, and slump back in your seat. That tight little skirt you’re wearing rides up about an inch and a half. “Sounds like something a virgin would say.”
Eddie huffs; no way around this. You’re fucking with him, and it’s the indefatiguable male ego that’s not going to let him let you win. 
He fucks, okay? Or has fucked, prior to this. 
Not that there’s anything wrong with not fucking. 
But he’s done it.  
Eddie’s eyes dart between you and the road, and you’ve got him like a stuck pig with that expectant glare. His eyes linger on your exposed upper legs for a half a second. 
Christ, you’re annoying. It occurs to him that wants to bite the soft flesh of your thigh and hear you squeal about it, but you are annoying as hell. 
“Fine. Fine. You wanna know?”
Your head lolls against the rough upholstery of the seat and you bat your lashes at him. “I really wanna know.” 
And Munson will tell you, you know, because you’re the kind of person people tell things to. 
“Nicole Summers.”
“Bullshit. Nicole Nicole? My Nicole?”
“Nicole Nicole. Nicole, formerly yours. The only-girl-meaner-than-you Nicole. It was tenth grade,” he snorts bitterly. “Most unforgettable thirty seconds of my life.”
“Nicole told us she got her v-card stamped by a board waxer in Maui.”
“I’ve got a lot of side gigs. You don’t know about me.”
You snort too, despite yourself. That’s a lot of despite-ing tonight, Lacy. You sit up in the seat a little, interest catching. Flame to a candle wick. 
“How was it?” you press. 
Munson furrows his brow, like duh. “Most unforgettable thirty seconds of my life, I just told you.” A beat. “Until— …Cass Finnigan.”
Now, an encounter like that is less surprising, but still you holler, “Bullshit!”
“I’d say the same shit if it hadn’t, y’know, happened to me,” he stage whispers, “In this van.”  
Your eyes widen, a flicker of a grimace sailing across your face. You wonder how he pulled that off, but all that comes to mind is the start of a bad porno– Cass meets him at that dingy little bench out back of the school to pick up and he’s, I don’t know, test driving some of his new supply and offers her a toke. She’s all, why the free samples, Munson? and he’s all, I only let the prettiest girls test the product. And because Cass is notoriously insecure–who among us, girl–she’s all, who, me? and he’s all, come back to my van, and she’s all, but I’m going steady with Mikey B, and he’s all, I won’t tell if you won’t and then he fucks her in the ass. 
Because Cass is saving the first hole for marriage and you know that. You’re the kind of person people tell things to. 
What you don’t expect is a weird pull of… envy. Why, in this imaginary scenario, had he never invited you back to his van? Well. You know why. But you’re drunk, so logic begone. “When did all this go down?”
“Uh, right before school got back,” Munson answers, kind of apprehensively. He could be lying, you figure.
“Well, Cass has been having a weird year,” you mumble, meaning to think that rather than say it. You know, because you’re the kind of person people tell things to.
“What’s that supposed to imply exactly?” Eddie says, an edge in his voice. He can’t help the way something in his chest flares; like he forgot to wait for the other shoe to drop with you, and now it’s dropping. 
“It stands to reason that she’d wanna, like, do something stupid,” you explain, and you know how it sounds. It’s mean. But honestly, you’re so drunk, and so past the point of attempting to spare people’s feelings.
“Like hook up with the local freak,” Eddie finishes for you, tone flat. You couldn’t not put him in his place, could you? Not that he thought Cass liked him or anything, he could feel her (literally feel her) going through the motions like a social experiment but– God, a little delusion doesn’t hurt now and again. 
“Exactly!” and even in your inebriated state, you can feel the tension in the air, hanging between you like a balloon full of noxious gas. Rather than cut it, you want to poke at it, unfeeling as to whether that’ll make it worse or better between you and the boy in the driver’s seat. You hike yourself up further, leaning toward him, pulling the can of High Life from your face. 
Munson’s profile is this beguiling mix of hurt and irritation, lit by the scuzzy orange hue of the passing streetlights. 
“What, did you want me to act impressed? Did you want me to lie to you?” 
“What? No– look, I know what girls like that– think of me, but,” Eddie’s voice shrinks in his throat, making him sound completely pre-pubescent. He notices you lean forward in his peripheral vision, like you have to strain to hear it, “that doesn’t make it any less shitty.” 
Oof. He did not need to unleash that little piss-shake of earnestness right now. He mentally steels himself for a ribbing from you, a cackling, piercing laugh like you let out before Carol punched you. 
“Of course it doesn’t!” you froth, “Just like it doesn’t make it any less shitty when guys act like they’re settling a bet with their buddies when they hook up with me.” You cross your arms to your chest with a quickness, slamming back into the seat. “Bet you couldn’t make it with Lacy, she’s got a combination lock on her pussy. Fuck you, dude.”
That coaxes a bark of a laugh from Munson, which makes you giggle a little in turn. It’s a weird feeling. It’s not quite relief; more like satisfaction. One point to Lacy, you made him laugh. 
“Combination lock, huh?”
“Allegedly.”
“Bet none of those losers even know how to crack a lock.” 
Your head tilts in his direction, forward this time. “And you do?”
Munson’s eyes flash at you, a dangerous orange glint sparkling in the darkness of his irises. “My criminal skillset is pretty diverse.”
He pins you down with this look from the driver’s seat and for a heartbeat or two, and you let him. Just long enough that a stab of sobriety sneaks in– and you can’t deny it, but you wish it didn’t. 
You’re drunk. 
If you can stay drunk, all bets are off. 
If you can stay drunk, whatever you do doesn’t matter, because you were drunk. 
You could reach over and press your fingers into the soft denim between his legs, make something hard there. You could squeeze the thickness of him over his zipper and kiss the shock of alabaster skin on his neck, where his pulse goes all jackrabbity under your touch. You could make him forget he ever heard the name Cass Finnigan. 
And it would mean nothing. 
And you wouldn’t have to justify it, because you were drunk. That’s what you’ve always been taught.
But you uncross your arms and you pull at the hem of your skirt and look to the road, just as the van swerves into the trailer park. Munson doesn’t take such a hard turn at the corner this time, probably wary of your risk of ralphing all over the van if he does. He pulls into that negative space between your trailer and his and instructs you to wait in your seat. 
“Trust me, the descent out of this baby is much trickier than it looks,” he assures you, jogging to the passenger door, a jingle of keys and pocket chains and belts on leather, “and you’re way too gone to make it in one piece, princess.”
So he holds his hand out again (“M’shitfacedlady,”) and gingerly you take it, and it becomes very apparent very quickly that your legs have turned to rubber on the drive home. 
“Oh, shit!” 
Your attempt at gracefully exiting the van is ruined by an unsteady ankle, sending your weight right into Eddie Munson’s chest. Luckily, he was braced for it– just about. “Told you you couldn’t make it without me,” he breathes as you clutch a handful of his Metallica shirt, vision quadrupling. He’s warm, and you suddenly realize that you’re freezing.
Trembling.
“Stop flirting with me,” you hiss to one out of the four Munsons in front of you. “I need to go to bed.”
Eddie forces himself to bite back another double entendre, which is a shame, because they’re doing an awesome job of covering up how goddamn nervous he suddenly is. He moves his arm to your waist, helping you haul ass to your front door. He’s got to keep one arm outstretched behind you in case you lose your balance again– which you almost do, a couple of times, wavering around like a dashboard Jesus. 
He watches you like he’s trying to commit this to memory, the rare case of you being so beyond your usual composure. He’s even got to intervene after the first five minutes, making unlocking your front door a two idiot job.
Eddie’s about to wave you off and disappear to scream and something else into his pillow when he sees you take a dangerous lunge into the darkness of the trailer. “Woah, girl–” 
But you recover, in a kind of brainless way, taking a measured Bambi-like step forward. One after the other. 
Fuck. He can’t leave you like this. 
You’re gonna trip and brain yourself on a Fabergé egg or whatever the fuck it is you and your mom have in there. 
“Uh– Lacy?” 
The trailer is eerily quiet. You feel like you’re trespassing in your own place. Boxes of out-of-place, too-expensive ephemera are still strewn everywhere, but you navigate the maze of them like it’s nothing. Sense memory. You don’t even entirely register that Munson is following you inside, that he’s frantically whispering after you, until you reach your bedroom door. 
A coldness shoots up your spine as you turn on him. You didn’t invite him in here, did you? 
“What do you think you’re doing?” you ask for the second time tonight. This time, it comes out a little fearful. 
Eddie picks this up, right where you’ve erroneously dropped it. His chest gets a little tight. You didn’t think he was trying to–? 
“Making sure you lie down in the recovery position, that’s all,” he throws his hands up in total surrender, Scout’s honor, all that shit. “I’m not tryin’ to pick any locks tonight. I swear.” 
“I don’t need your help, Munson,” but just as you twist the doorknob, you keel over through the door, hitting the floor like a lead balloon. 
“Yeah, you keep telling me that,” he blearily smirks down at you, “And yet.”
But Munson’s not such an asshole about it that he just leaves you there. He hauls you up, again, and you stagger towards your bed, flopping face down on top of the comforter. He says some variation of okay, well, that’s how you choke to death on your own vomit, Jimi Hendrix and bullies you into the recovery position. 
“Don’t freak out, I’m just–” and Munson sits gingerly on the edge of your bed, taking one of your high heeled feet in his hands. 
What the fuck, you mumble, either aloud or in your head. But he’s fiddling with the tiny buckle at your ankle, gently undoing it. Another chill runs through your body but you don’t move, not an iota. You just… let him do it. His hands on your aching feet aren’t a totally unwelcome touch. He’s being featherlight about it, almost afraid to touch you even though he had no problem sheepdogging you into bed. 
“You could do anything to me right now,” you hear yourself saying. “No one would even know. No one would even care, I bet.” 
It’s meant to sound like you’re goading him, or even flirting with him, but it comes out sounding pitiful. You cringe, your hands creeping up to cover your face. 
“I’d care.” Munson’s voice is a tiny mumble– you know he’s just defending himself, but it kind of sounds like something else. He slips your right shoe off and sets it on the floor next to your left one. He hesitates for a moment before getting off your bed. 
“Alright, well– we can forget this ever happened. Resume being assholes to each other on Monday. Don’t, like, die in the meantime.”
“You say resume like we ever stopped being assholes to each other.”
“Have a fun hangover, Lacy.” 
You do not have a fun hangover. You wake up late Saturday afternoon after Friday’s bacchanal and don’t emerge from your room save from the occasional bathroom trip to puke up what little dignity you’ve got left. Sunday morning is when your mom hammers on the door and drags you to the kitchenette after confirming that you’re still, y’know, alive. 
“This is your game face, hm?” she says, pulling at your chin to examine your violet bruise that seems to have developed its own heartbeat. She doesn’t hold your face the way Munson did, gentle and searching, just tugs into the sparse light streaming into the dingy kitchenette.
You attempt to steel your jaw, but your bottom lip is starting to waver. 
“What happened?” your mother asks, and beneath all the jagged broken glass, there’s a tiny sliver of tenderness. 
Call it your pride, but you don’t reach for it. 
“I went out,” you say tightly, “and I made a fool of us.”
She hacks up a scoff through her smoker’s cough and disappears into her bedroom, leaving you alone to pick at a cold waffle. The few moments of consciousness you’ve had since Friday night have been spent trying to piece the party together– you remember clearing the better part of a bottle of cheap, cheap, shitty vodka with Robin Buckley’s help (weird), you remember getting into it with Hagan and Carol and getting wailed on. You remember getting a ride home with Munson, but the finer details of that are fuzzy. 
You think, and this is a thought that turns your already 180’d stomach, you let him into your bedroom, but you can’t be one hundred percent sure. All you know for an absolute is that your shoes came off that night, and you would never bother to take your shoes off after a night like that. 
So somebody must have. 
Meanwhile, Eddie’s been having a hell of a meanwhile. 
Fact of the matter is that you managed to detonate a nuclear bomb at Harrington’s party just under an hour after your arrival, which has got to be some kind of world record. It was also a world record for how little product he’d managed to sell during one of those parties, because he was preventing the manslaughter of a teenage girl– could’ve been you, could’ve been Carol. He nearly wishes he let that fight play out, as he stares into his empty wallet. 
Eddie’s gotta busy himself somehow, gotta do something– weirdly, he’s not in the mood to make a whole lot of noise. It’s not such a terrible day for working on his van, so he slams his toolbox on the ground and gives a couple dozen casual glances toward your bedroom window.
Your blinds still aren’t fixed. That’s got to have been shitty when you woke up with a splitting vodka headache and a shiner the size of Canada. 
Eddie keeps finding excuses to pace back and forth in perfect view of your window. Not in a peeping Tom sort of way, but in a way where he’d kind of like to see any sign of life from you. Even if you just rose from your bed like Nosferatu and gave him the finger. Then, he could relax. 
“Ed,” a gruff voice comes from the makeshift trailer porch, “fuck’re you doin’.” 
Those dulcet tones would belong to his beloved Uncle Wayne, who, ever since his hours got cut at the plant, has become unbearably observant of Eddie’s every movement. Wayne’s not a neglectful kind of father figure, not like his blinders-wearing real dad is, so he actually gets concerned when Eddie’s acting out of sorts. 
“Engine,” Eddie mumbles, pivoting fast like a kid caught doing something he shouldn’t, “Engine’s making hinky noises.”
“Sounded alright last night,” Wayne levels him instantly, “when you came home.” 
“Didn’t mean to wake ya,” he twists an oily rag in his hands, avoiding Wayne’s stony stare. 
“I was up.” He crosses his arms, leaning against the doorframe. God, whenever Wayne susses him out, it’s like drip torture. He’s slow as molasses with the confrontation on purpose, making Eddie sweat and out himself on every little fuck up he’s ever made. “You go in there?”
Chin jerks towards your trailer. Eddie’s shoulders shrug towards his ears, head tilting back. “Wayne, it’s not– she was real drunk, like blotto, I just–”
“You steer clear of that one.” It’s the definite nature with which Wayne says it that makes Eddie’s stomach drop. No prelude to it, no I know, kid, you were just tryin’ to do right by her. Nothing. 
“Wayne–”
“She ain’t what you think she is. Not if she’s anything like her bloodline.” 
He says this like the realization hasn’t hit Eddie like Carol hit you on Friday fight night. 
He says this like people haven’t been saying the same thing about Eddie for years.
Monday morning comes and you’re still somewhat suffering. A headache nags at your temple, but you pin that down to anxiety rather than an extended play of your hangover. 
It occurs to you that you should dress as down as possible today– realistically, of course, as you’d never be caught dead in sweatpants. You need comfort, you need something that feels like a well-worn blanket so you opt for a deep burgundy sweater dress that actually belonged to your mom in the 60s. 
You’d found it in the back of her closet when searching for a belt you knew she’d stolen from you and pulled it out. Mom! you chirped, How cute! How come you never wear this?
Oh, God, she’d cringed, batting the garment out of her way as she passed you in a cloud of Shalimar, Just throw that ratty thing out for me, would you?
But you didn’t. You kept it tucked away in the back of your closet and took it out when you needed it. When you needed to bury your face in it. Substitute it for a comfort she refused to give you. Which you realize is terrifically sad, but so’s life. 
The warm red is a distant cousin in the color family to the bruise under your eye. That bruise, it’s a glaring reminder of what a fucking loser you’ve become. The old you, the real you would never have stooped to that level– never had let them drag her down like that. But now you’re the kind of girl that screams and starts fights at parties, you guess. 
Your rage feels ugly in the cold light of day. 
You’re locking the door of the trailer behind you just as Munson emerges from his humble abode and it’s nothing short of awkward. Like you’d both seen each other naked or something.
You both stand there, in your relative doorways. His mouth gapes like he’s about to say hi, say something, and a memory comes back to you. Cold shock in the middle of a summer’s day. No one likes that. No one wants that. 
Regret stabs at you.
“Can you see it from there?” It’s the only thing you can think of to say, because you’re sure as fuck not saying hi. 
“What?”
“The bruise. Can– can you see it from over there?” 
Munson sort of half-snorts. “Not from here–”
“Ugh, thank god.”
“--but this is like, over fifteen feet away.” 
You roll your eyes, which hurts a lot, thanks guy, and walk toward his van. 
“Now?” you say, waving a hand under your eye, right where you’ve applied and blended and applied and blended a criminal amount of concealer. Munson leaves about a foot of space between you, on purpose, and you crane your neck back, on purpose. Reinstating the forcefield between you. 
“Oh yeah, you can barely even see that you got your ass kicked.”
“It’s not even eight in the morning, Munson. Do you really want to start your day with a knee to the balls?”
“You’re right. That’s usually an after-dinner activity,” he grins and jerks his head toward the van. “Need a ride?”
Need a ride? Like it’s the most ordinary, everyday thing in the world, Eddie Munson offering you a ride to school in his deathtrap of a van. Your stomach pulls at the sense memory of being in there on Friday night, and what you’ll look like getting out of it in the parking lot of Hawkins High. 
“No,” you say, shaking your head, definite and resolute. “I’m walking.” 
He scoffs. “C’mon. It’s too late to start walking now. You’ll be late for first period.” 
You scoff back, imitating him. “So what?”
“You’re never late for first period.” 
“I can be late– how the hell do you know I’m never late for first period?” 
“Because, dummy, I’m always late for first period,” he tells you, yanking open the passenger door, “And I sit behind you in History, and you’re always there when I come in, leaning back with your nose in some dumb book and your stupid hair all over my desk.” 
It’s true– you are always reading in history, because Kaminsky can’t teach for shit and you’ve already read ahead on the coursework anyway. You liked to rub that in his face by pulling out some unprescribed literature during class. Plus, no one you really care about is in your class, so you don’t have to worry about getting made fun of for having your nose in some dumb book. Illiterate jocks would never try that shit with you– nobody there would. 
Until now. 
And it’s true that Eddie Munson sits behind you, and barrels in like an idiotic excuse for a hurricane with some idiotic excuse for being late that you always scoff at, because does he ever get tired of his own bullshit. But after that brief cameo appearance in your day, you really do forget about him. 
Until now. 
“So?” he says, all expectant. 
And you consider it for a second, you really do– but you don’t think you can handle the blowback of leaving a party with Eddie Munson on Friday then turning up with him on Monday. Going to the same class. Where he sits behind you. It’s just… overexposure. 
The same realization must hit him, because all of a sudden he’s slamming the door shut with a roll of his eyes. “Whatever. Your tardy slip, babe.” You can’t help but think he sounds a little wounded. 
But fuck it. Fuck it! Since when do you stand around feeling sorry for Eddie Munson? 
Before you know it, the van roars out and leaves you in the dust. 
You don’t make it to school until after second period, because that so-called bus route a fifteen minute walk from the trailer park must not even exist, so you forge a note from your mom in the parking lot. 
As your fountain pen hovers over the paper, brainstorming an excuse, you consider pulling out the big guns– say you had to attend visitation day at the penitentiary. Use this disaster to your advantage for once; but you pull back. Scribble something about a doctor’s appointment and dot your mother’s ‘i’s with eerie precision.  
You make quick work of dropping the note off in reception– the uptick of being the kid of the town’s gossip beacon is some people still feel sorry for you. Some people weirdly include Janice, Principal Higgins’ secretary, who snatches the note from you before you can even reach the actual receptionist’s desk. 
“I’ll file that for you, dear,” she says, all coo-cooey with an unwelcome hand on your shoulder, “How are you and your poor mother doing these days? And your,” her croaky voice drops to a whisper, “dad? How is… he being treated?”
You blink at her, gripping the fountain pen in your hand. “Do you know what a shiv is, Janice?”
Just then, the bell trills and you take your leave, stepping out into the linoleum. 
Someone calls your name from down the hall. You crane your neck to see Ronnie Ecker jogging toward you, paper in hand. 
Now look, you’ve never had a problem with Ronnie Ecker. You can’t say you’re particularly fond of her but she’s smart; she keeps to herself and she was a decent lab partner during your junior year of dissecting frogs together. Squeamish, but that’s why you were there, to handle the scalpel. As much of a social outcast as she is, she’s not nearly as odious as the rest of them. That’s pretty goddamn remarkable amongst the Hawkins student body. 
She is also, you’ve come to notice, a resident of Forest Hills trailer park. 
“Hey!” she says, “Um, I noticed you missed first period and Kaminsky was handing our papers back so I figured you’d want yours…” 
“Why is everyone so obsessed with me missing first period?”
“Huh?”
“No– nothing,” you huff, taking the paper from her. A solid B on A+ material– told you Kaminsky couldn’t teach for shit. He’d be hearing from you about this. “Thanks for this, Ronnie.”
You start down the hall but notice Ronnie’s keeping in step with you. “I also just wanted to say– I heard about what happened Friday. And I think it’s sick, you standing up to Hagan like that. Asshole needed to be put in his place.” 
Well, there’s only one person she could have heard the nitty gritty of that news from. You know she’s trying to flatter you, but all you feel is a flame of embarrassment, plus a touch of anger– even though the news has easily circulated the school hallways by now. 
Along with the rumors of you taking Hargrove, Buckley and Munson, and not in a fight. 
“Well. Y’know. I was pretty wasted,” you attempt to brush it off and you see Ronnie deflate a little. 
Like you’re not the blazing hero someone made you out to be. 
“Okay, but is it true you had a threesome with Billy Hargrove and Robin Buckley and Robin was wearing the Tigers mascot suit?”
“Oh, Jesus Christ.”
Classes pass in a monotonous blur, like most Mondays, but worse. That would be thanks to the extra shot of dread that’s served with your cafeteria meal of a wilted salad and soda. Last week at lunchtime, you at least had a tenuous standing with your former circle– you could still sit between Tina and Nancy Wheeler and suffer Tina’s thinly veiled jabs at you with a semi-placid look on your face. Nancy would look at you with eyes full of pity, and you’d want to punch her face in, but you’d be fine. 
But now, as you stand in the cafeteria swirling with people and catch the death glares from your old table (save for Nancy and Steve Harrington, who just straight up refuse to make eye contact with you), you’re just about ready to snap. 
Your flight instinct tells you to toss the tray out of your clammy hands and run, and keep running, until you disappear into the woods behind the school, never to be found. Your body becomes mulch before anyone remembers to look for you. Maybe you make really good fertilizer and a couple of pretty weeds sprout up from where you die. 
Your bruise, under its flaking layers of concealer, throbs twice– as if to say, don’t you fucking dare.
You make a confident beeline for the table, chin tilted and eyes set in a stare that could be categorized as withering, if only it was trained on anybody in particular. You grab a chair that some dumb underclassman is about to sit in and drag it with you, legs screeeeeching across the waxed floor. 
Who gives a shit who you were on Friday night. 
“I can sit here, right?” you say, and place your tray on the table next to Ronnie Ecker. 
She just stares at you for a hot second. That’s too long to stay standing in uncertainty, so you settle your stolen chair at the table and sit next to her. 
Ronnie isn’t the only one staring, however– the rest of these dorks, all in their matching t-shirts with Satan’s fiery head emblazoned across them, are watching you with their mouths agape. 
“Is this a prank or something?” one of them, a curly-haired freshman, says. 
This question is directed toward their fearless leader, decked out in denim and leather at the head of the table. That is to say, the direct opposite end of the table that you’re sitting at. 
“That’s no way to greet a lady, Gareth,” Munson says, feigning coolness but you can tell he’s a little flustered. The dead giveaway is in the way he misses his mac and cheese with his fork, the way his solid gaze double-blinks. You’ve thrown him off game– and because he’s impossible not to overhear sometimes, you know that game is all he’s got going on at this table. 
There’s that feeling again– point to Lacy. 
“To what do we owe the pleasure?”
This is Munson’s version of what the hell do you think you’re doing, but you choose to ignore him. It’ll drive him insane, and you know that, glaring red warning sign that he is. Instead, you flash a smile at the freshman that almost makes him pass out, Cupid’s arrow struck straight through the heart. 
You cross your legs and angle your body toward Ronnie– and by extension, in the direction of your old table. You can see Carol burying her face in Tommy’s shoulder, the both of them on the verge of losing bowel control with laughter. Laughter at you. 
Who gives a shit who you were before Friday night.
“So, Ronnie,” you say, taking a sip of your Tab, “You get up to anything fun this weekend?”
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author's notes: let me get ahead of everything and say yes, i am absolutely fucking with the timeline. suspend your disbelief, my beautiful babies, and enjoy steve, carol, tommy and ronnie ecker still being in high school because I SURE WILL. but on an absolutely serious note, thank you so much for all the support and each and every note you’ve put on the chapters so far. i seriously, seriously appreciate it. now, the notes: - you think eddie munson doesn’t fuck with pee-wee herman heavy? you think he didn’t watch this movie in reefer rick’s, high out of his gourd, and think oh yeah i love this freak? get REAL! RIP paul reubens, this one’s for you. specially every time i mention a handjob - eddie munson also has charlie kelly disease - speaking of iterations of always sunny characters, much like frank reynolds, there’s not a get rich quick scheme al munson hasn’t tried. we’ll get into that a little more… later - admittedly, the whole ‘face eating on bath salts’ thing didn’t gain traction until the 00s, but if hawkins is going to be ahead of its time in anything, it’s fucked up shit happening to people! - did you notice how i blended eddie and lacy’s povs in the van? i’m going to continue doing that in moments where they’re on a similar ~wavelength~ - jimi hendrix did unfortunately die of asphixiation, but instead of thinking about that, watch this sick video of him playing guitar that eddie definitely has committed to memory - RONNIE ECKER KLAXON. i know that in flight of icarus she’s described as tall, but that hasn’t stopped me fancasting her as ayo edebiri in an eddie munson wig - at this point, you might be thinking damn, everyone sure seems to hate each other in this story. like, why is nancy wheeler catching strays? i’m here to remind you it’s the 1980s and teenagers kind of suck. play the track - thanks again for all the love! you can keep this crazy train going by liking, commenting, reblogging and generally showing me the same kindness you’ve shown me so far. love u my little hellcats
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queenimmadolla · 2 months
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I imagine eddie would have a little family time kid friendly valentines with the reader on one day and an adults only, ship the kids off somewhere valentines another day
What gifts or things do you think would happen on that day
Id imagine reader would wake up eddie by dressing the kids up as cherubs and attacking him with rubber sucker arrows to shoot at him
🦊
Family friendly Valentine’s Day is in the morning, After Hours (bow chicka bow wow) Valentine’s Day is from the evening and all through the night 😏 while the kids are sleeping over with grandpa Wayne and Maude.
I like the way you think and that’s very cute, reader buying the kids pairs of wings to wear and those annoying ass toy Cupid bow and arrows and then releases them into the bedroom to assault Eddie. It makes for a really good home movie and pictures for the family album.
Eddie OF COURSE was prepared and had to hide all of the gifts he got in the van because not a single person in the house, including reader, can be trusted not to go snooping. Eddie gets the girls and Wayne (his little Ferdinand 🥺) flowers, called into a floral shop weeks in advance to place the order and while reader absolutely loves her roses, seeing penny and wayne’s reaction to getting them is like the best thing in the world. They get all shy and happy about having received something so special, and their bouqets are significantly smaller than reader’s but it doesn’t matter; Wayne’s got his nose in his daisies, sniffing away for the rest of the day, and Penny lets reader help make hers into a flower crown, so she can wear it the entire day. They also gorge themselves on chocolate and candy, which reader isn’t happy about but Eddie couldn’t not buy some for them! Besides, the inevitable sugar high will be big Wayne’s problem.
Penny and Wayne will have made homemade Valentine’s cards that say something along the lines of “congraz” (Wayne, still says ‘happy birthday’ for most holiday greetings and gets confused with them all so it’s a congratulations from him this time). And Penny’s are just amusing (‘Happy Valentine’s Day, daddy! I gots no monies so this is what you get, i love you ps get me flowers and member i dont like white choclet’ and ‘Happy Valentine’s Day, mommy! You are my valentine now, not daddys but you can kiss daddy on the lips, but i saw hims eat some onions one time and they are stinky good luck”)
BUT, Eddie has plans for him and Reader, so the kids are pawned off to Wayne and Maude, reader is whisked away to a romantic dinner and then brought home for some very much needed alone time. They share a couple of joints on the porch, he gives her a foot massage because her feet ache a little from the heels she wore to dinner, they talk about their life; where they are in it, what they thought they’d be doing by then and how happy they are regardless, then they move things into the bedroom. Put those cuffs, Eddie now has to hide, to good use. Spend the rest of the night fucking like rabbits well into early morning, nearly depleting the box of condoms in the night stand. In between rounds, Eddie and reader finish off the leftovers from their dinner in bed when the munchies kick in, sharing a bottle of water, lounging around naked, talking about everything under the sun—weed induced peculiar thoughts, of course—and enjoying each other’s company. It’s reminiscent of the early days of their relationship, before the jobs, before the kids, before any of the responsibilities, when they were just teenagers.
Come morning light, you’ll have to go get your kids and slip back into the roles of mom and dad, which the two of you are more than happy to do, but it’s also nice to play a little pretend for the night.
Happy belated Valentine’s Day! 🩷
(P.s. part of the Pennyverse for any new readers ♡)
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cobaltperun · 3 months
Text
Lost (17) - Satellite
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Tara Carpenter x female Reader
Summary: To anyone on the outside, and to Tara’s friends, you were Tara’s fierce protector, the MMA fighter who’d take anyone on for Tara. The Guard Dog, as Amber called you. You had no idea you’d have to protect her from people who claimed they loved her. It didn’t matter. As long as you and Tara had one another there was nothing you wouldn’t be able to survive.
Story warnings: Scream violence, family issues, trauma, angst, certain sensitive topics
Word count: 4.4k
Story masterlist / First part / Previous part / Next part
-That's why we won't back down we won't run and hide-
Though you weren't exactly happy about it, you, Tara, and Sam accepted Gale's help, so now the four of you, as well as Kirby and Bailey found yourself in a former movie theater turned shrine for Ghostface.
You felt sick. Angry that someone could actually worship these monsters. So many people died. Everyone in this theater, aside from Bailey, was attacked at least once. You kept an eye on others, on Gale as she passed by Dewey's photos or her own books. On Kirby and Bailey as they focused on whatever grabbed their interests. On Sam as she went and touched the glass case holding Billy's mannequin. On Tara as she went over to Sam.
You were stuck observing crime scene photos from when Amber attacked Tara. You saw Tara's wounds, you knew minute details of each and every scar she had. You never saw the photos of her house from that night. You clenched your fists, wishing you shot Amber, you wished you could go back and finish her off instead of forcing Tara to do it.
You saw Tara going outside and were about to follow her when your phone rang. This time you checked the ID and saw it was Thomas. His timing really was the worst. With a groan, you answered the phone.
"Hey, Y/N, sorry to call like this, but I heard you didn't go to the gym last night," he opened up with that right away.
"Yeah, sorry, something came up," you didn't sound sorry at all, you'd abandon the gym a hundred times over if needed.
"Look, I know these past two weeks have been tough and I may have asked too much of you-" you really didn't feel like having this conversation.
"I'm busy right now, we'll talk later," you hung up before he could even respond to that. Since your phone was already in your hand you tried to call Susan one more time, but, as it always did these past two days, it just went to voicemail. "Fuck!" you cursed and stuffed your phone in your pocket.
"Troubles?" Bailey asked and you just now realized you were alone with him.
"Are you asking, or questioning me?" you still didn't know where the police tracker came from. There was no way you were trusting anyone.
"Just asking, sorry if I'm overstepping," he raised his hands.
You nodded. "You are overstepping," you said and tilted your head in the direction Tara and others went. "After you."
He sighed, but otherwise remained silent and complied with your wishes. The two of you found Sam and Gale in the midst of, from what you could see, burying the hatchet.
"Where's Tara?" you asked right away, honestly hoping you didn't all walk into a trap set by Ghostface.
"Kirby is with her, they went upstairs, wherever that leads," Sam told you.
"I think I have a plan how to catch these fuckers," Bailey said and you desperately wanted to agree with the plan. The sooner this was over the better.
~X~
You absolutely hated the plan Bailey had. And you were vocal about it. So, here you were, at the park, next to the van Kirby would trace the call from with Tara trying one last time to get her to change her mind.
"Tara, please, at least think this through," you pleaded, already certain you were wasting your breath, but you couldn't just give up.
"I thought it through, Y/N, I'm staying with Sam," Tara leaned against the van with her arms crossed over her chest.
"It's dangerous, at least let me come with you," if you couldn't get her to stay safe, then you might be able to convince her to let you come with her and Sam.
"It won't work if you're there. You can fight them," Tara huffed, clearly getting frustrated as well. The two of you had been going back and forth on this ever since Bailey proposed the plan and she decided she wouldn't let Sam do it alone.
You pinched the bridge of your nose, already feeling a headache over this whole plan. And they weren't even out in the open yet. "I don't want you to get hurt."
Tara narrowed her eyes at that. "And it's fine if Sam gets hurt?!" she raised her voice and tightly gripped her left biceps.
"I didn't say that," you took a step back, trying to cool your head at least a bit.
"No, but you think I could get hurt, so you think Sam could get hurt and you're not trying to convince her not to do it," Tara took a few deep breaths.
"You and I both know I'd much rather take Sam's place, but no, Ghostface is after her so anyone else won't do!" you yelled, what little cool you managed to regain fading away way too quickly for your liking.
"Like you left last night? Right? Like how you chose to put yourself in danger even after you saw there was a tracker on your car?! Do you even understand how worried I was?!" somehow this was reminding you of the night you told Tara you were retiring from MMA.
"I fucked up, okay?" you spread your arms for a moment then let them drop at your sides. "I thought they'd try to finish me off first and figured I could use the opportunity."
"Yeah, you thought putting yourself in danger and possibly fighting someone that defeated you before was okay, but this isn't?" Tara asked incredulously.
"So, your solution is to go ahead and do something equally reckless? Is that what you're saying, Tara?" you had no idea how you weren't already shouting. You felt like screaming, but you still didn't shout.
"She's my sister, Y/N! I'm her backup, and if it comes down to it we'll keep each other safe!" Tara yelled and, perhaps to avoid arguing further began walking toward where Sam was getting ready with Kirby and Bailey.
"Yeah, because being with Sam sure kept you safe every time Ghostface was involved!" you just snapped and watched as Tara turned around.
She was glaring at you. "Don't you fucking dare, Y/N," she warned.
For once you glared back. "Am I wrong?" you challenged. As long as you could move and you were there no one, not Amber, not Richie, not whoever these Ghostfaces were, managed to touch her, let alone hurt her. Sam didn’t have the same track record.
Tara reached you, anger evident in her eyes, and then, as if she just made that decision at that exact moment, swung her palm toward your face. You caught her wrist, entirely unimpressed with how telegraphed the attempted slap was. "Don't ever try that again," you let go of her wrist and climbed into the van, shutting the door behind you.
You slumped down and absentmindedly touched the scar on the right side of your jaw. Once again you called Susan, once again you were left in silence. You looked at the last text exchange you had with her, the word fun popping up for some reason. Maybe you should take that vacation the moment this all ends, or at least the moment everyone heals up. Maybe spend a week or two in Sacramento, only you and Susan, and then come back to New York with her for Thanksgiving.
Maybe taking that small break from one another's company would be good for Tara, after all this wasn't the first fight in the past few days, and that one was before you even knew Ghostface was back. Sure, you talked it out and kissed it better, but this one just brought it back to your mind.
You only opened your eyes when you heard the doors opening because you wanted to be sure Kirby was the one coming in.
"You look awful," she commented.
"You look like it's none of your business," you replied, not really in the mood to discuss this with her.
"Someone's cranky," she just shrugged and you chose not to respond.
Too much time passed before Ghostface finally called, bragging about being a step ahead. And he was. He went after Gale. Bailey got in the van and turned the engine on.
"Where are Tara and Sam?!" you jumped to your feet.
"They stole my car!" he exclaimed.
At this rate, you were going to have a heart attack. "Who's driving?!"
"Tara," that girl was going to be the death of you.
"Are you crazy?! Tara can't drive! How are you even a cop you incompetent fuck?! How could someone just steal your damn car?!" a rage-fueled part of your brain cynically told you this was to be expected. That you should have realized Tara was too reckless to consider her own safety even back when she stubbornly convinced you to take her with you when you went after Sam back to Woodsboro after she just barely survived two attacks and had a broken leg. That you should have realized it when she first disappeared and went to a party with complete strangers.
When you finally reached Gale's apartment building you saw Tara and Sam sitting in the hall and you ran up to them.
Tara looked up when she heard you and she got up rushing to meet you halfway, only to stop, as if suddenly remembering the last interaction you had. You took a deep breath and just pulled her into a hug. She quietly sobbed into your chest as you held her.
"Is Gale still alive?" you asked softly and relaxed when Tara nodded.
"She was seriously injured, but she should be fine," she told you when you released her, your heart cracking a bit when you saw the pain in her eyes when you pulled away. With a hand on her back, you led her back to where Sam was still sitting.
"Hey," you squeezed Sam's shoulder, hoping to comfort her a bit.
"Hey, sorry we left you with Kirby and Bailey," she apologized and placed her hand on top of yours for a moment. You just nodded and sat down with Tara.
Soon enough you saw Danny running in. "Hey, I came as soon as I could," he ran up to you, looking mostly at Sam.
"Did you?" Tara challenged and he just looked at her, perhaps knowing better than to add fuel to the fire.
"More importantly, what now?" you chose to save him from Tara's anger.
"Maybe he gets to win this time," Sam's words made alarms go off in your head as you turned to look at her.
"What?" you demanded.
"He wants to punish me," she explained, on the verge of tears. "Me," she stood up and faced Tara and you. "So maybe I let him. I'll just give myself up."
You couldn't believe what you were hearing and for a split second, you wondered if Sam lost her mind or if you were hallucinating. "Fuck that! Who do you think you are, huh?!" you got up and stormed away from Sam. "Giving herself up? Unbelievable!"
"If this is what it takes to keep you safe, it's worth it," the only reason you weren't yelling that she was out of her mind was because she was crying. Sam was crying and you rarely saw that.
You couldn't convince her, so you'd leave it to Tara and maybe scold her once this was all over.
Tara stood up and approached Sam. "No, we're not doing that, Sam. You went back to Woodsboro to protect me. Every single day you make the decision to protect me. None of us would even be alive if it weren't for you. You have to let us protect you this time," Tara told her without a single hint of doubt in her words.
"No," Sam said weakly.
"Yes," Tara said firmly and from the corner of your eye you saw her pulling Sam into a hug. "We're a team, remember? I can't lose you, Sam, it feels like I just got you back in my life."
That was definitely going to work. The question remained though. What to do next?
"He's gonna keep coming after us," Sam pointed out while hugging Tara back.
"We could use that, though," Tara said and somehow you just had the feeling she was about to suggest something reckless before she even spoke up.
The plan? That involved Bailey and Kirby? Lure Ghostface into the movie theatre they used as a shrine and execute them. When Tara said she intended to execute Ghostface you looked at the ceiling, took a deep breath, and just accepted it.
'At this point, the best I can do is be the fucking bodyguard,' a moment later you wondered when was the last time you cursed this much. "Right, off to the murder shrine, where we'll definitely have the upper hand," you couldn't help but grumble.
~X~
You drove to the murder shrine, in your car, just you, Tara, Sam, and Danny. No public transport. Nope. none of that. You were not about to be suspicious of every stranger on the train.
When you parked outside the theatre you saw Kirby waiting for you.
"I talked to Bailey, let's get you all inside," she went right down to business, but Sam abruptly turned around and faced Danny.
"Not you," she said.
"What?" he asked.
"Don't trust anyone, remember? We don't know you, not really," she told him.
"I don't know, Sam, we could use extra muscle," you still weren't sure you could defeat that Ghostface in a one-on-one, let alone with at least two more on his side.
"Y/N is right and you know me," Danny tried to convince her.
"You're not Woodsboro. I'm sorry," Sam wasn't listening.
"It's okay. It's okay, I get it. Just be safe, okay?" he kissed her cheek.
Sam nodded. "You too," with that, she turned around and the rest of you followed, leaving Danny behind.
"Good call," Kirby said as the four of you entered the theatre.
~X~
Things just kept getting better and better, Kirby was the only one with a gun, the only one with any weapon, really, and you only had one exit.
Perhaps seeing the tense look on your face prompted her to do it, but Tara took your hand and pulled at it, frowning when you didn't comply.
"Come with me for a minute?" she requested, looking softly into your eyes.
"Now? You want to separate from Sam now?" you couldn't help but ask.
"Please, Y/N," you could never resist her for long. Thus, you complied, letting her lead you outside of the shrine and into the hall where you figured tickets used to be sold. "You're stressed," she said, not quite getting into your personal space, but still remaining close to you.
"Can you honestly blame me? I'm one bad thing away from just breaking down, Tara. I'm just tired," the first time this happened you had moments to rest, you slept, and you felt safe at Susan's place, for the last twenty-four hours even when you weren't in constant danger you were either arguing with Tara or trying to reach Susan.
Sure, you slept yesterday, but that was over thirty hours ago at this point and you were really feeling the stress that accumulated over the past two weeks.
"It'll be over soon," she said, reaching up to touch your cheek, but stopping mere inches away from it. As if trying to slap you suddenly put an invisible barrier between you that was only temporarily broken by the adrenaline caused by what happened to Gale.
For once, you chose not to lean into her touch. "Let's go back to Sam," you said and Tara nodded, lowering her hand. She walked in front of you and you went back to the shrine to see Sam running toward the doors you just walked through with a knife in her hand.
You were immediately looking around, trying to see if she was running from someone, but somehow you couldn't see anyone.
"It's Kirby! She made this whole theatre a kill box, for us!" Sam explained rapidly.
"What?" you asked, but it made sense. The police tracker on your car, only Kirby having a gun, locking you here...
"Bailey is on the way here, but-" Sam continued as you went back to the middle of the shrine.
"Stay back to back," you interrupted her and the three of you stood in a circle, making sure you had each other's back.
"Wait, wasn't it Bailey's idea to use you as bait?" Tara reminded Sam.
"And Kirby refused to let Gale come with us," Sam said, frantically looking around for any trace of Kirby.
"Unless he figured that's what would happen. Just to be sure, how about we don't trust either of them?" you suggested.
Tara nodded and you felt her brushing her fingers over your hand.
You took and squeezed her hand reassuringly. "Ghostface appears you stay still, you hear me. Don't make sudden moves," you could pull either of them behind you and counter-attack at any time, you just needed them to stay calm.
You heard footsteps coming from your left, where Sam was and you moved, getting between the masked attacker and her just in time to catch his fist and punch his face. "Fuck running, I'm fighting you head-on," you said as he stumbled back, from the grunt of pain you figured this was probably the one you stabbed last night.
The second one jumped out, but they didn't attack, choosing to circle the three of you instead.
"Sam, Y/N," Tara was close to panicking and you knew why. The third one. He still wasn't there.
"I need you to be ready! You ready?" Sam asked she had her back to Tara's while you moved to stand closer to the front of her while not blocking her direct line of sight. Sam even handed Tara a brick.
Tara took a deep breath. "I'm ready," she took another deep breath. "Come on motherfuckers!" unnecessary, but as long as she was calm and ready.
Shooting made both Ghostfaces take cover and you turned to see Kirby, bleeding from the side of her head, and more importantly with a gun in her hands.
Somehow, you relaxed, if she wanted to shoot you, she probably would have done it and used the element of surprise.
"Maybe it's not you after all," you said and turned to Sam. "Come on, what's the point of keeping cover at this point? Your aim really sucks though. Not even one bullet hit them," you said, you'd still keep your guard up around her, but for now you figured you could tentatively trust her.
"My head is bleeding, Y/N," she deadpanned.
"Meh, excuses," you replied.
"Kirby, get away from the girls!" Bailey rushed in, with his gun raised.
"Whatever you think, I'm not the killer!" Kirby quickly denied any involvement in this mess. "I don't know what he's been telling you, but don't listen to him!"
And then the third Ghostface, the one you were the most worried about, came up behind Bailey.
"Behind you!" Kirby yelled only for Bailey to shoot her.
"Great job, you three," Bailey said as the three Ghostfaces stood by his side.
'Right, this is happening. Four of them, just great,' you thought as you fully expected Bailey to point his gun at the three of you.
"You?" Tara asked.
"Yeah, of course, it's me. Frankly, I expected more from you after what you did to us," he declared.
"Us?" Sam repeated.
"Let me guess, Quinn?" you figured since he was saying 'us' maybe his daughter was involved as well.
Indeed, the Ghostface to Bailey's right took the mask off, and sure enough, it was Quinn.
"Hello, almost roomies. Too bad I couldn't resist messing with you when we met, but it was a good way to not be on the suspect list," she said.
Then the Ghostface to Bailey's left took off his mask. "Mindy was right, it was easy to juke the roommate lottery!" Ethan exclaimed. "All I had to do to get close to you was room with a conceited, condescending alpha, literally named Chad. Fuck, I can't wait to kill him!" he pointed the knife at the mask he was holding. "This was your grandmother's Sam. Nancy Loomis. Really runs in your fucking family, doesn't it? Speaking of family..."
"Wait for it," Bailey chimed in.
"My name isn't Ethan Landry, is it dad?" and Bailey just laughed at that, as if there was actually something funny.
"Dad?" Tara's eyes widened.
"And then they tell Sam it runs in her family," you sighed as Ethan and Quinn began pacing around once again. You remained focused on the only remaining masked one.
Bailey explained his plan, saying how they were counting down to Billy's mask. Jason and Greg, bodega, Sam's therapist, your shared apartment, that was four, with four of them there were now eight masks. The idea that one, Amber's mask, was still missing worried you. Was Gale the ninth mask? That didn't make sense, no mask was left behind and it was the last attack, not the first as the countdown should imply.
Convinced that the fourth one was content with watching you began walking around Tara and Sam, keeping light on your feet, and making sure Quinn and Ethan were on your opposite sides the whole time. This way you could react to either of them attacking. They wouldn't be allowed to touch either Tara or Sam, not with you right there.
"I'm gonna need you to put it on," Bailey offered the mask to Sam, but she slapped it out of his hand.
Ethan went in to slash her, but you stepped in, making him halt before he could reach you. "How are the wounds?" you taunted and just as it looked like he was about to back away the fourth one spoke, still using the voice changer.
"Step back, she'll just hit you again," he warned, actually sounding amused, and though it was clear Ethan didn't like that, he did step away.
Their plan was insane, though it was working out well for them so far. They ruined Sam's reputation, courtesy of Quinn's efforts, and as Ethan explained it further Quinn made a mock attempt to stab Tara.
You once again moved in time, regardless of her intentions, and pulled Tara behind you.
"Truly a guard dog," Quinn mocked and that's when it all clicked for all three of you.
They weren't Amber's family, but... "You're Richie's family," Sam realized.
"Yeah," Bailey said slowly.
"Ding, ding, ding!" not liking the enthusiasm Ethan had when he said it you stopped between him and Sam, he seemed ready to lunge at you, but the warning he got before kept him at bay, at least for now.
"Now! It wasn't until I saw those photographs of what you did to him that I knew! I knew you had to die for what you did to him! You had to be punished!" Bailey yelled, angry at Sam for what she did to his son. You could say you blamed him, but you still weren’t about to let him or his children hurt Tara and Sam.
"Real great parenting, by the way," Tara commented.
"Shut your whore mouth!" Quinn screamed at her. Ah, so she was the one that called you.
"And you? What's your deal?" you gestured toward the still masked Ghostface, interrupting whatever Bailey was about to say.
"You really should have figured it out by now. I get that you probably didn't want to consider it since I did help you out so much," he removed the mask.
Your jaw dropped slightly as you recognized Thomas. Honestly, you should have seen it coming just from how well the bastard fought. "What the fuck?" you couldn't help but ask. "Are you kidding me right now? Do you have any idea how bad it'll look when I end up putting 'Killed my employer' down as the reason for unemployment?" why was he even after you. Richie's family you could understand on some level, they were the bastard's family, but Thomas? Really?
Thomas laughed. "Trust me, that's the least of your worries, Y/N," he said and held up a paper bag for you to see. "You wondered where Amber's mask ended up?" the smirk on his face, the tone of his voice, it all made you feel unexplainable dread. "Take a good look," he opened the bag and turned it over, letting a very familiar pair of MMA gloves fall to the dirty floor.
Despite Tara's attempt to grab your hand you took steps forward, stopping right between Tara and Sam and the gloves at Thomas' feet. "Susan," your throat was dry when you said her name.
"Exactly, it's been four days now, just so you know why she hasn't been responding all this time," he was taunting you. He was amused by your failure to figure out what happened to Susan.
"Why?! What did she ever do to any of you?!" you weren't the one asking that, it was Tara.
You just stared at the gloves, barely even registering your surroundings. If anyone wanted to kill you, well, there wasn't a better opportunity than this very moment.
"It's simple really. Susan was the only one who'd always, no matter what, no matter what the other choice is, choose Y/N. Your friends won't, Samantha won't, not even you would Tara. It would hurt you, you'd never forgive yourself, but you'd choose Samantha in the end," he turned to you as Tara remained silent. "Parents? Oh, they really don't care. Zack and Susan? Dead. You can try to deny it all you want, but the only reason you are still alive is because you were strong enough to survive on your own. Twice now you were stuck with me, no one came to help. Your girlfriend put up a better fight to protect a friend than she did to protect you. You are alone, Y/N, and you threw everything you could have been for nothing. Quite frankly, what I'm about to do is a mercy kill."
You heard everything he said and you relaxed. There was nothing. No rage. No despair. No remorse. No sorrow. Nothing. Just an empty state of mindlessness.
"That's it," Thomas grinned, tossing aside his robes. Then his eyes abruptly widened. "Wait, Quinn!"
"Y/N!" you heard Tara and Sam's scream.
You glanced to your left and focused on nothing but the blade that was approaching you.
A/N: Two chapters to go, people, almost there! Here's a fun question, how much would Tara suffer if she had to choose between Sam and Reader? Thank you for reading, see you next time! Updated: 30.03.2024.
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thethirdromana · 5 months
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You have done cheeses. How about dessert.
Ooh, good idea.
See, the thing about Victorian food is that a lot of it sounds pretty unappealing from the vantage point of the 21st century. There were a lot of overboiled vegetables and stodgy meals designed to get you through winters with no central heating.
But Victorian desserts? Much more reliably delicious. So I can restrict myself to the desserts that these characters might actually have eaten. No tiramisu (1960s) or banoffee pie (1971).
Starting off with an easy one, RM Renfield is the traditional Scottish fruit slice (which I already highlighted in my food guide to Dracula) known as flies graveyard. I'm going to trust that one doesn't need any additional exploration.
Lucy Westenra is light (literally: "Lucy" means light), pretty, and appealing to small children. OK, admittedly the eater-eaten relationship goes the other way around with the small children vs Lucy-as-dessert, but I think it still works. She's a bombe glacée, a spherical ice-cream dessert that first appeared on restaurant menus in the 1880s.
I had a fun browse through Dutch desserts before I found the perfect one for Abraham van Helsing. He's the old man of the story, but he's still a little bit spicy and a little bit divisive - much like anise, which flavours Dutch oudewijvenkoek, or old wives' cake.
For Quincey Morris, there could only be one option. He's from Texas, y'all, he is obviously peach cobbler.
Continuing with the suitors, the obvious answer for Arthur Holmwood would be a dessert associated with wealth and privilege - perhaps Eton Mess, traditionally served at the annual cricket match between Eton and Harrow Schools, and first mentioned in print in 1893. But Eton Mess is a light, sweet, inconsequential sort of dessert and that just doesn't seem right for Arthur. Instead, I'd associate him with a rich, indulgent, traditional, solid plum pudding.
Jack Seward is in some ways the most modern of the suitors. Also the most highly strung. He's cherries jubilee, a brand-new dessert in 1897 as it was (probably) created that year for Queen Victoria's Diamond Jubilee. It's full of liqueur (suitably for Jack, who's full of chloral) and it gets flambéed at the table.
I have to admit that I struggled with Jonathan Harker. Maybe I just love him too much to caricature him, you know? But what I came down is that he needed to be a beloved treat, available on menus across the UK, not wildly expensive, not wildly luxurious. And also, Jonathan goes through a lot of trials and drinks a lot of tea in this novel. Jonathan is a toasted teacake.
As for Mina Harker née Murray, it seemed appropriate that she should be a similar sort of dessert to her husband. So he's a bun with dried fruit and she's a bread with dried fruit. Specifically, she's an Irish soda bread (since Murray is an Irish surname) that is known either as Spotted Dog or - more suitably for Mina - railway cake.
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silent-stories · 11 months
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𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐑 - 𝟏𝟎 (𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞)
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Pairing: Eddie x F!Reader
Summary: Aaron moved out and you and Eddie are together and finally, truly happy.
Part 9
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"How long do you think this campaign is going to last?" You asked Wayne sitting next to you on one of the benches in front of the trailer as you waited for Eddie to come back.
"Sometimes it takes two hours, sometimes three, sometimes four... I really can't give you an answer, kid. That boy is unpredictable when it comes to that game." He brought a cigarette to his lips.
It had been a week since Aaron had left Hawkings, you saw Eddie every day at school and almost every afternoon at your house or in his trailer and you often spent the night in his arms.
Things were going well, Eddie was pretty sure he was going to finally graduate and you were about to get a job at a new shop that just opened in town.
"He loves you, ya know?" Said the man sitting next to you blowing a cloud of smoke out of his mouth. "He doesn't talk much about his feelings but I think you're the first person he's loved so much."
"Oh trust me, I know. He shows it to me every day." A slight smile formed on your lips just as a van came into your sight and parked in front of the trailer.
Wayne made a gesture with his hand towards Eddie getting off the van "Speaking of the Devil..."
"Hey sweetheart, sorry I'm late." He placed a quick kiss on your lips as he reached you, basically ignoring his uncle sitting next to you.
You giggled.
Too sweet for the Devil. You always knew that.
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The sky was lit up with what seemed like hundreds of stars and the moon was shining almost full.
You and Eddie were lying on the roof of his trailer, your eyes were up at the night sky and you were cuddled up next to him, your head was on his chest and his leather jacket was wrapped around your shoulders because you had left yours in the trailer and neither of us wanted to go down and get it.
"Are you sure you're not cold?" You asked raising your head slightly towards Eddie.
"I'm sure." He muttered. "And you look too good in my jacket to take it back."
You rolled your eyes before your gaze fell on Bones as she walked with one paw after another on the edge of the roof of the trailer, staring intently ahead.
When you'd left your house to go to Eddie's she'd followed you and jumped into the passenger seat as if she knew you were going to see, now clearly, her favorite person.
You'd been trying to get her out for at least ten minutes but after she dug her nails into the seat and hissed at you, you gave up and decided Eddie would have an extra guest that night.
"What if she falls?" Eddie asked suddenly, you understood he was referring to the cat that was walking next to you.
"She has nine lives and always falls on her paws." You knew Bones wouldn't fall, she often climbed trees in your garden and sometimes even on the roof of your house via the balcony and she was always able to get down and stay alive.
"But it's cute that you worry about her." You added with a slight smile on your lips.
"She's my girl, of course I worry about her." He commented, a slight playful note in his voice because he knew what you would answer.
"Your girl? I'm your girl!" You exclaimed dramatically, exaggerating on purpose.
Eddie chuckled, his fingers found your hand and, and after grabbing it, he brought it to his lips to leave a kiss on the back of it. "You are."
"Mh, that's better." You said bringing his hand to your chest to play with his fingers and draw imaginary circles on the back of it.
You usually did that to calm him down when something was wrong, he was upset about something or someone made some redu comments about him or your relationship, or before a test he absolutely needed to pass so he didn't have to repeat the year again but eventually it became a habit.
"Shooting star, make a wish." You pointed up where something glowed making a trajectory across the sky.
"I'm pretty sure it was an airplane or something." He chuckled.
"Don't ruin the moment!" You exclaimed again. "Make a wish."
Silence fell between you and you lifted your head towards him, his gaze was already on you. "I have everything I need right here."
"Well, that was cheesy. Not metal at all if you ask me." You rolled your eyes knowing he was watching you, just to annoy him.
"Well, sorry if I'm trying to be a good boyfriend!" Eddie tried to sound angry but the huge grin on his face couldn't go away. He loved to bicker with you like that sometimes.
Your look softened. "You already are."
He didn't hesitate to imitate your tone.
"Well, that was cheesy. Not metal at all if you ask me."
"Oh, come on!" You exclaimed in exasperation and Eddie couldn't help but burst out laughing before wrapping a hand around your waist and if possible pushing you even closer to him. "I love you, you know that right?"
"Will you tell me I'm cheesy if I tell you I love you too?"
Eddie looked at you for a few seconds, as if the fact that there was a possibility that you loved him too had caught him off guard. "No, I won't."
You placed a hand on his cheek, pushing him towards you to make your lips meet. "I love you too."
He smiled with his mouth so close to yours that you could feel his breath on your lips, his eyes were glittering thanks to the moonlight that was bringing out the golden hues in them.
"Has anyone ever told you that you have really pretty eyes?"
Eddie hesitated for a moment. "My mom always did."
"She was right." A soft smile appeared on your lips.
When he finally kissed you, you realized you hadn't made a wish either. You didn't need it.
Your lips had to part as something jumped on Eddie's chest and he burst out laughing, resting his head on the roof.
"Bones! Get off my boyfriend!"
"Aww... someone is jealous."
"Are you talking about me or the cat?"
"Both of you."
"Eddie!"
"Don't worry, I love you more."
Eddie ran his two ringed fingers through Bones' fur as she purred, sniffing his hair curiously.
"Maybe."
"I heard you!"
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The trailer was silent and almost completely dark when you rolled out of bed as Eddie was in a state of doze, his head resting on the only pillow on his bed and his curls scattered around his face.
His arm wrapped around your waist, ready to push you back against his bare chest before you could stand.
"Where are you going?" He whispered.
"I gotta go to the bathroom for a second, I'll be right back."
He didn't answer but his arm dropped onto the mattress after he softly caressed your side.
Your feet walked silently through the different rooms of the trailer and when you returned to Eddie's bedroom, you didn't see the desk that you hit with your arm, knocking over a notebook.
You glanced over at Eddie who seemed to be sound asleep and reached down to grab what had fallen.
When you pulled it up, a sheet fell out of it.
Before placing it back in the notebook, your eyebrows furrowed as you looked at the page.
Two stikman were on the left, one with curly hair and both smiling, the others on the other side of the paper had angry faces and smoke was coming out of their ears.
You smiled at the memory of the day you produced that awful drawing during a boring class while trying to get Eddie to come to Aaron's party.
Your smile only widened at the thought that although months had passed Eddie hadn't thrown away that drawing and he kept it in the middle of a notebook, safe.
You folded it up and put it where you got it before crawling back into bed next to Eddie and wrapping your arms around him, resting your head on his chest.
"Goodnight Eds." You murmured, thinking he was already sleeping.
Bones jumped onto the bed, looking for a space between you two to settle down.
"Goodnight Bones."
"Eddie!"
He giggled before placing a kiss on your forehead.
"Goodnight sweetheart."
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It's been a lot fun writing this series, thanks to everyone who has read up to here! <3
Tags: @jacklesdeanvessel @morning-sky7 @pipsqueakkitten @navs-bhat @michaelfuckinglangdon
Love you from afar tags: @capitanostella @enam3l @saramelaniemoon @ang3lb44by @einkitty @themorriganisamonster @esme-viridian @daisyridleyyyy @whenshelanded @eggo-segual @comfortcharactercraze @callmeyn @expiredcum21 @unholyyylita @squidscottjeans @twilight-love-nochu-main @idkatee @bakugouswh0r3 @amira0303 @greatpizzascissorstaco @ebonybloom @emxxblog @lunaryasha @cherryobx @jasminelafleur @magicalchocolatecheesecake @tracymbcm @harrypotter-imaginees @eli-flower @mrsjellymunson @tttttttttttts-things @miabiar @wayfaring----stranger @princess-eddie @omgshesinsane @littlestarfighter03 @zoeymunson @tanyaherondale @bl4ckt00thgr1n @thebook-hobbit @eris-rose-86 @ly17 @jenuhlyn @ximi1315 @avocadotoastwithegg @lomljigg @urdad-hot @1paire2vans @praline357
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wolfjackle-creates · 2 months
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Bring Me Home Arc 3 Part 3
Again the winner of last week's poll! There won't be a poll this week because I'm planning something a bit different. I hit 1000 followers this past week and have been wracking my brain about how to celebrate! Wasn't up for doing prompts or adding more projects to my list, though, so I didn't want to go that route.
But I did come up with something that I think everyone will really enjoy. Especially those of you who have been voting for Carry Your Heart (I see you in the tags!). So look out for that post.
In addition, I've just posted the first chapter of Arc 2 on AO3! Link below.
Story Summary: Jack and Maddie install a new ghost shield on the house which activates the moment Danny tries to step into his home. His secret is out and his parents are determined to excise the ghost from their son.
Luckily Danny isn't alone. The Young Justice, Sam, Tucker, and Jazz aren't going to leave him to suffer.
Arc 1: AO3
Arc 2: AO3 (incomplete); Tumblr - First, Final
Arc 3: First, Previous
Word Count: 1.4k
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Fire rushing through him jolted Danny awake. His back arched as he cried out. He screwed his eyes tight, not wanting to see what torture his parents were going to come at him with next when he realized what the sound of his cry meant: the muzzle was gone.
As were the restraints. And he was lying on something soft. Trying hard not to hope, he opened his eyes.
Sam and Jazz were leaning over him, concern clear on their faces. They were in some sort of ambulance or van.
“How are you feeling,” demanded Sam.
Danny took a moment to answer, his chest was pure agony. He didn’t even want to think what it would feel like to sit up. And even past that, everything was sore. Though the fire that had woken him up had dissipated, the tell-tale feel of ecto-dejecto. “Pretty much the worst I’ve ever felt,” he answered honestly.
Sam and Jazz both winced and his sister grabbed his hand. He squeezed her fingers weakly.
At the foot of his bed stood Tim in full Red Robin getup and Kon as Superboy.
He couldn’t hold back the smile as he met Tim’s gaze. “You came,” he said.
Tim didn’t smile back, but some tension eased out of his shoulders. “I always will,” he said. “Been telling you that since we were ten years old.”
“I know. I’ve always known. Thank you.”
Jazz squeezed his hand again and he looked at her. “Red Robin and Superboy are going to take you away from here. Robin will help you recover.”
Sam nodded. “Yep. And the rest of us are gonna focus on making sure Amity is safe for ghosts once and for all.”
Danny shook his head. “I should be there with you guys, fighting.”
“Nope!” interrupted Jazz. “Not even a little. You’re going to focus on getting better, got it, Danny? That’s all we want from you.”
“But the ghosts—”
Sam covered his mouth with her hand. “Stop it right there. Tucker is working with Impulse and Wonder Girl to get the portal locked up. No one will be coming through. No one—ghost or human—will be in any danger while you’re gone. I promise.”
Danny slumped into the bed. Even the slight change in position caused waves of pain to radiate from his chest even through the healing ice he could feel implanted in his body. He whimpered and closed his eyes until the throbbing receded just a bit. “I trust you. I do, it’s just…”
“You’re used to taking care of everyone,” finished Jazz for him. “We know. So let us take care of you for a change. We love you, Danny.”
“Love you, too, Jazz. Sam.”
“Be good for bird-brain there, got it?” ordered Sam.
Danny gave her a half-smile. “Are Tim and I ever good together?”
She laughed. “Well, don’t burn down Gotham, capiche?”
“Capiche.”
“We have to go now,” said Jazz.
Danny gripped her hand tighter. “Don’t leave me.”
Jazz winced, but leaned down to kiss his forehead. “We need to make sure the Guys in White aren’t going to get involved further. And you need to get someplace safe.”
Danny huffed a half laugh. “Gotham is safe?”
Jazz rolled her eyes at his poor attempt at a joke. “For you it is. Now, I’m leaving Red and Superboy with a case full of ectoplasm for you and our entire supply of ecto-dejecto. I just gave you your first injection. Please try and eat something and drink your ectoplasm regularly.”
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, Jazz.”
Jazz sniffed and it was only then that Danny realized it was wetter than usual and her eyes were watery. He tried not to feel bad for his jokes when she replied, “Yes, it is whatever I say. Glad you agree.”
Sam cackled, and now that he was paying attention, Danny could hear the hysterical edge to it. “You’d better text us multiple times a day, ghost boy. Don’t try and lie to us, either. Kon’ll tell me the truth about your condition. And as soon as we can arrange it, we’re coming out your way for a visit.”
“Course I will, Sam. Give Tuck my best?”
“Duh. He wishes he could’ve come with us, you know.”
Danny nodded. “But he’s better with the tech stuff and that is just as time sensitive.”
“Yeah. Now, get some sleep,” Sam ordered. “You’ve got a long drive ahead of you.”
Danny gave the rote answer after too many all-nighters taking care of ghost attacks before school, “I’m dead, I don’t need sleep.”
His sister squeezed his hand. “Ghosts who just went through what you did need their sleep. Love you, Danny. Get well and I’ll see you soon.”
“Love you, Jazz.”
She kissed his forehead one more time, followed by Sam. And with another two rounds of farewells and love yous, he was alone with Tim and Kon.
“Thanks for coming,” he said again.
“Obviously we weren’t going to leave you there,” said Kon. “Being a lab subject isn’t fun. Especially not that kinda lab experiment.”
Danny couldn’t quite hold back the flinch at that description. It was accurate, but blunt.
Tim walked over until he was sitting by Danny’s bed. “Just listen to Jazz and get some rest. We’re going to be taking the long route to Gotham by going south to start. If we stop for food in a few hours, think you could handle a smoothie?”
Danny shrugged and bit back a yawn. “Could try.”
“That’s all I ask.”
Kon moved towards the front of the vehicle as well. “Looks like it’s time for us to skedaddle. I’ll keep the road from jostling you, ghost-boy.”
Danny gave a small smile and let his eyes close. As he did, he tried to mumble his thanks and he hoped it came across.
---
The next time he woke was more gentle. Someone was tapping on his shoulder and calling his name. But even so, as he was pulled closer to awareness, the pain made itself more and more known. He tried to cling to the darkness, but the tapping wasn’t stopping, nor was the person calling him.
He blinked open his eyes to see Tim’s concerned face. He wasn’t wearing the domino anymore, or his costume. Just a sweatshirt and jeans.
“Hey, Danny,” said Tim. “I’m going to need you to try and eat a bit right now. Kon got us those smoothies I mentioned. I’ve also got yogurt if that’ll be easier for you. But the smoothie will have more nutrients.”
Danny closed his eyes. He wasn’t hungry and didn’t want to eat. Why did Tim have to bring him back to consciousness for this? He hurt and just wanted to sink back into oblivion.
The tapping on his shoulder began again. “I know, Danny. But you have to eat something. And you should take some ectoplasm, too. So just stay awake for a few minutes.”
“Mm ‘wake,” said Danny without opening his eyes. He shifted his weight, hoping to push himself up to eat, only to scream in pain as his chest protested any movement.
“Shit! Don’t move,” said Tim too late. “I’ve got a spoon here. I’ll feed it to you, okay? So just stay exactly where you are.”
Danny gripped his sheets, unable to do anything else as wave after wave of pain over took him. Tim kept up a litany of reassurances and stroked his hair. Eventually, Danny was able to think past it again.
“Don’t think I can sit up,” said Danny.
“Of course not,” agreed Tim. He held a styrofoam cup between his knees and carefully took off the lid and straw. “Just let me. Take at least a few bites. Swallow as is, don’t try and chew. Just do what you can, okay?”
“Okay,” agreed Danny and Tim fed him the first bite.
Danny hated this. Hated it so much. Here he was being spoon fed like a baby all because his parents… He shut his eyes and took the next bite. He wasn’t going to finish that thought. Tim was here and that’s what mattered.
Danny wasn’t sure how much he ate, but it couldn’t have been much. His eyelids were getting heavier and heavier and the pull of oblivion stronger.
“Wait, Danny. Stay awake just a little longer, okay?”
Danny groaned but forced his eyes open again.
Tim showed him a bottle of ectoplasm. “Just a few swallows of this, too. Okay?”
He didn’t want to. He’d rather just go to sleep again, but he opened his mouth obediently. By the time he finished his third spoonful, he couldn’t fight it anymore and slumped into the bed. The pain receded back into blackness for a time.
-----
Next
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Danny is going to be getting all the comfort throughout this. All of them will, tbh. Because no one is happy and they all need a hug or five.
Let me know what you think!
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ashwhowrites · 1 year
Text
Part 1
Here is part 2!!! I hope you guys like it and it was worth waiting for. Thank you for all the love and support on part 1 🥹 it means the world. Enjoy :) never proofread
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~~
Steve and Eddie raced to the school, anxiety in their veins as Eddie parked the van. Both boys ran into the building, following the sounds of screaming and cheering.
Steve pushed through the huge crowd, arms immediately wrapping around Y/N's body. Yanking her frame off of Jason, who is on the floor groaning in pain.
"STOP. STOP" Steve screamed, trying to keep his grip tight as she wiggled and squirmed to get out of his touch.
Eddie raced behind, going for Jason instead. Y/N doesn't fight unless she's provoked and he had a good idea Jason started it.
But Eddie's attention on Jason got caught short, hearing Steve Y/N's name as she marched down the hall.
~~
Steve didn't waste a second running after her. He let her walk away once, and he didn't want to do it again.
"Please, just stop" Steve pleaded, hand reaching out to grasp her elbow.
She hated that she melted once he touched her. She was mad at Eddie, but Steve hurt her too.
"what Steve? Now you want to talk?" She spat out, turning around to face him. Cradling her own elbow out of his touch.
"I'm sorry, I never should have let you walk away without listening to you first. You deserve to have the opportunity to explain." Steve confessed. He watched her closely. Her eyes were blocked off from any emotion. And her lips were turned down into a frown.
"no, I don't deserve to explain myself, I deserve to have my boyfriends trust me enough to not even think twice about a rumor like that. I also deserve to be treated as my person. Not a shell of the people who hurt both of you in past moments. I'm not Nancy, and I'm not whoever the fuck Eddie thought I was. I'm me, and you both didn't trust her. Fuck both of you. You followed behind Eddie's lead like a fucking dog. Don't you think for yourself, Steve? It's pretty clear where I stand compared to Eddie. " She said harshly, turning back around and marching out of the school.
Steve took the hit, he deserved it. He was a grown man and he should have thought for himself. He knew he was going to hurt her and he did it for Eddie's sake. He was supposed to treat both his partners fairly, and he just put one higher than the other.
~~
Eddie didn't waste much time with Jason. Spat out to leave them alone and followed the direction where Steve went.
Eddie found him alone in the hallway. Shoulders dropped, and Eddie assumed the conversation didn't go well.
"she still pissed?" Eddie asked, arm wrapping around Steve from behind. Steve shrugged him off and created space between the two.
"just don't touch me." Steve sighed, turning to face Eddie. Watching Eddie's face drop.
"what? What did I do?" Eddie scoffed
"We should have been better. And I should have thought for myself. With everything in me, I don't believe she cheated, and I should have told her that. I followed you and I lost her. And seeing this heartless monster you've been, I think I lost you too. If you believe she did it, that's for you to deal with. But I'm not following you anymore." Steve confessed, giving Eddie a small smile and turning to walk out of the school.
~~
Eddie's insecurities cost him both partners. And now it's on him to fix everything.
He always wanted to protect both of his partners, and he's the bad guy who tore it all up.
Eddie wasn't sure how Steve got home, but once Eddie made it in his trailer, he felt alone. He spent night after night in Steve's apartment, never returning home. He went into his bedroom, throwing himself face-first on his mattress.
He wanted to fix things altogether, he didn't want to talk to Y/N and Steve separately. If he was going, to be honest, and break down into pieces, he only wanted to do it once.
~~
Many phone calls later, Eddie got Y/N to answer. Most of his calls were answered with a scoff and the slamming of the phone hitting the wall. He barely could get a word each time. But this wasn't the time to give up. Once he finally got her to stay on the line longer than two seconds, he asked her to come over to talk.
And it wasn't easy. She was stubborn and still pissed off. Calling him every name in the book, dragging his name up and down the block, before finally sighing and saying "Be there in ten."
Eddie knew convincing Steve to come over would be easy, all he had to do was mention he has Y/N on the way over.
~~
The room was silent, and all three of them were uncomfortable. Y/N couldn't look at either of them, keeping her hands in her lap. Steve kept his eyes on Y/N, silently pleading she'll look up. And Eddie kept his eyes on the floor, stomach twisting in knots.
They were in this position all because of Eddie, and he knew that. All the blame rested on his shoulders and his shoulders alone.
"I want to start by thanking both of you for coming and hearing me out." Eddie sighed in one breath. The anxiety filled his stomach.
"yeah, I think it's a nice option to have a chance to explain yourself, but that's not for everyone." Y/N threw out the side remark. Rolling her eyes as she finally looked up at Eddie.
"I'm sorry for everything. Y/N, I'm sorry for attacking you right away, not letting you explain yourself, and turning Steve against you.....I know what I did was so wrong. Deep down I knew I was fucking everything up but I couldn't stop myself. " Eddie voiced out. His eyes connected with Y/N's.
"Eddie, I just don't understand why it was so easy to believe I cheated on you guys. I've been loyal, supportive, and understanding of both of you! I would have believed you guys over anyone. But knowing you chose to believe random high schoolers over your girlfriend is fucked up. And I deserve a real explanation for that. I don't care if you knew you were wrong, it's the fact you continued to be an ass to me. I'm also disgusted by the fact you saw me as someone seeking to hurt Steve and that you felt the need to protect him. Protect him from his girlfriend? That's low." Y/N didn't plan to hold anything back. She spent night after night having her thoughts brewing over and over.
"you deserve an explanation. I need to be honest with both of you and myself. I acted out of insecurity and fear. I....heard the rumor and my first thought was I cannot let anyone know this would hurt me. It's fucked up, and I picked my pride over being vulnerable. I wanted to show I could be unaffected. That the relationship between you and I isn't what I depend on to be happy. But it is, and it's fucked up of me to find that embarrassing to admit. Because it's not. You and Steve make me so fucking happy and show me what love is about. I took all that for granted and tossed it aside like it wouldn't mean anything to me. Neither of you deserved that, and Y/N you didn't deserve to be treated like that. " Eddie took a deep breath before continuing.
"I also want to apologize to Steve, I wanted to protect you but all I did was hurt, everyone. I should have been mature and brought the topic up in a controlled way. I shouldn't have thrown it out in a fit of anger and I shouldn't have turned you against her before she even got home. I was wrong and I was wrong to both of you. I know I don't deserve another chance, I know I didn't give Y/N a fair chance, but I'd like to ask for another chance at being your boyfriend again." Eddie nervously looked between the both of them.
"Before we answer that, I'd like to apologize to Y/N also," Steve sighed out, facing her fully. " You are right, I should have thought for myself. We both know Eddie doesn't communicate well, and I was the only one in that situation that could have controlled the conversation and helped us out. I should have let you explain yourself. You're not Nancy and you've proved that. I also am guilty of letting my insecurities take over and ruining everything we built. I think I speak for Eddie and I when I say, if you give us this chance, we will prove our loyalty to you. And we will always communicate when our insecurities are taking control again. "
Y/N was happy to hear both boys being honest with themselves, admitting that their insecurities got too much and they panicked. It doesn't take away the hurt and damage, but it's a start to fixing everything.
"I appreciate both of you apologizing. Eddie, I'm hurt that you felt that your pride was more important than being vulnerable with me. But I like to hear that you know what's wrong and you are aware that was the wrong thing to do. I know you are trying Eds, and I don't expect you to know what to do all the time. You know you hurt me, and you knew it was on you to fix it. Thank you for taking responsibility for that. I will give you another chance, but I want you to work on your communication. We shouldn't count on Steve for all the communication between us. If you can prove to me that you are working on that, I'm happy for you to be my boyfriend again." She smiled at Eddie, his face breaking out into his smile.
She turned to Steve, a soft look in her eyes. " Thank you for apologizing as well. Thank you for knowing I am not Nancy and thinking over my words. I understand that your insecurities took over and I would also like for you to communicate that to me. I have faith that you can do that. I am also happy for you to be my boyfriend again." She smiled.
All three smiling at each other. Both boys understood they needed to back up their apologies, and show that they meant it.
Eddie knew that no one was ever going to make him as happy as his two partners do. He's lucky enough to have two people fall in love with him. He's safe with them. He can fall apart with them and know neither will judge him. He's flawed and that's okay.
Steve knew Y/N was her person and she was beautiful. She wasn't out to hurt him or Eddie. She just wanted to love them for who they are. Steve knew he needed to think for himself, and speak his thoughts if they happened to disagree with hers or Eddie's.
"Can I kiss you now?" Steve and Eddie asked at the same time, both boys chuckling to themselves as they stare at their girl across from them.
She giggled behind her hands, nodding her head.
"who's going first?" She joked. Knowing a fight was ahead of them.
"ME!" Eddie screamed, shoving Steve as he raced across the room.
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Jonathan's behavior while... enraging and also heartbreaking (he's gonna hate himself for it real soon and that makes me sad) is also interesting to me. He admits today that he originally thought Mina could handle the Horrors but now after the doctors suggested otherwise he's been convinced that she is more at risk of madness and trauma bc of female frailty
Jonathan mostly associates with women. This is as many male friends as he's ever had. Mr. Hawkins is mentioned but he's a father figure. I think Mina mentions a newspaper correspondent friend of Jonathan's once, but that's it and who knows if that was a good friend or just someone he liked well enough.
He spends his intimate time with women. The past months of his life he has been taken care of by women (the nuns and Mina) and talked about everything with them. He doesn't see them as women he sees them as people. It did not naturally occur to him that Mina would have less nerve because of her gender- he has avoided picking up The Sexism so far, and you can see it by his behavior towards her the whole novel. He doesn't treat Mina like a child, the way that the suitors treat Lucy like a child.
Then he got his polycule ID card, and suddenly is with all these men. And Jonathan is not a stubborn or prideful person. It's never been difficult for him to admit a mistake or when he doesn't know something. He has excellent instincts but he doesn't trust them. His lack of confidence in himself is imo his fatal flaw. And these men, two doctors among them are like yes we need to cut Mina out. It would be irresponsible to keep her in. She could never handle it. And this is not a natural conclusion for Jonathan to make. He writes that he finds it hard to keep things from her. It's not his instinct. But he feels inexperienced, and he desperately wants to be a good husband. The idea that he has not done his duty, that he's been careless in letting Mina do so much, that he's been unchivalrous and selfish, it's a new feeling but it's a horrible one and he bows immediately to what he perceives as the expertise and knowledge of Van Helsing.
That doesn't excuse him. It was wrong of him to do and he should have spoken for her. But I think it's interesting to look at how societal pressure and sexism worked on the character of Jonathan Harker in this instance to twist the love he has for her into something that hurts them both.
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whateverisbeautiful · 3 months
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♥️ Ranking Richonne
#17: You Led Me Here (S7E12)
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Of course Say Yes has found it’s way back to the list. 😊 This is such a powerful and important conversation between these two. And the scene is stunningly acted from them both. It’s moving every time I see it and while it’s heartbreaking that this van scene ended up having some foreshadowing with the fact that Rick and Michonne will in fact “lose” each other 2 seasons later, it also is such a beautiful declaration of how much they love, respect, trust, need, and believe in each other. Rick and Michonne have had such a valuable impact on each other and this scene depicts how aware they are of that...
First, I love how Rick wanting to extend this trip with Michonne came up consistently in so many Say Yes scenes. And it’s super sweet that he wants her to know how much he loved this time with her when he pulls the van over and says he could've gone a few more days and would have liked that.
He knows Michonne's feeling a lot rn, and he wants her to know that while that was a scary moment with the whole Walker/deer thing, the overall honeymoon trip has still been everything they could’ve wanted.
If they could’ve stayed on this run for a month, homeboy would have been down for it, I'm telling you lol. He so openly loves her and wants to be around her. He has for seasons, and I love that post-canon he now gets to more directly express that.
Then Rick just breaks my heart and boosts my respect even more when he admits to her that he hasn’t been sleeping thinking about what they lost and thinking about his friends.
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I love that Rick is always so willing to be vulnerable with her and let her see his most human side.
Side note: Another thing I think about is how in the TWD pilot, Rick talks with Shane and shares that while in front of Carl, Lori asked Rick if he even cares about her and Carl at all. It’s a line that intentionally has some real irony to it, as throughout this series we see Rick go on to demonstrate just how much he unquestionably cares about and will do anything for his family. But clearly, because Rick and Lori weren’t actually each other’s person there’s this inability to truly understand each other. It’s really one of TV’s most compelling depictions of a fail-marriage if you ask me. And I noticed that Lori always felt like Rick didn’t open up and show his care enough for her liking, which just makes me think about how much Rick grew over the seasons and how much Michonne brought out a side of him that was so different than with Lori. You know Rick found his true person in Michonne because he is always so willing to express himself with her. He shares his fears, his pain, his secrets, his hopes, and especially his adoration for Michonne always. And I just love seeing that Rick knows he can let Michonne into every part of his heart. 😊
And Michonne is always so willing to be there for Rick in these vulnerable moments like the one in this van because, upon hearing this, she immediately reacts and puts her focus on him, allowing what he’s sharing to resonate even above the personal state she’s in.
You can just see how much she feels for Rick and doesn’t take it lightly that he’s confiding in her right now.
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Ok so then this is when these two don’t take their foot off the gas when it comes to getting me emotional as heck. Cuz Rick opens up about Glenn which is already just heartbreaking to hear them talk about him, but then he says how Glenn saved him but he couldn’t save Glenn. And it’s just tragic. 😢
Like you really feel the weight of this loss when Rick says this, and it’s painful knowing he feels almost like he let Glenn down by having to just sit there and not save him in the lineup.
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Then when Rick says “it’s normal I know that” cue my tears because seeing him get teary trying to grapple with these heavy emotions and remind himself it’s normal to be stuck on it is just so heartrending. Like the way Michonne is looking at him at this moment is how I’m looking too. You just feel for the guy. 😢
(Another side note: I’ve seen people dismiss Say Yes as filler, but I actually think there’s important things that happen in this ep. I mean, even if the episode was just a time of levity for Rick and Michonne to enjoy their love and have some well-deserved alone time on their honeymoon before the war, I’d personally still have been sat and satisfied. But regarding the series, this is where we get valuable insight into two very important characters' mindsets about the looming war, their recent losses like our baby Glenn, and about life, which is necessary to see imo. And this particular Say Yes scene plants a seed for the show's future as we see Rick essentially choose a successor for who he thinks is most fit to lead the people if something were to happen to him. Which is notable. And, of course, Rick's choice of who should lead the others forward is his own leader - his exceptional wife. 🤗)
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When Rick says they went through something that’s not cured, Michonne does just the most heartfelt thing as she softly places her hand on his face and whispers, "Rick, I’m sorry."
I adore the way she comforts him. The way they always hear each other and are present with each other. The way she sees him feeling so much and just instinctually reaches for him and expresses empathy. It’s beyond beautiful. 
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And then it’s Rick’s turn to do the sweetest thing ever when he looks at her with so much love in his eyes and takes her hand and kisses it. It’s similar to when she did the same and kissed his hand in a very special scene earlier in the episode (oh we’re gonna talk about it 😋).
The way Rick cherishes Michonne is so evident as he kisses her hand and continues to hold it close to his chest. I’ve always adored how Rick and Michonne are these fearless warriors to everyone else but with each other that’s their baby who they would do anything to care for and protect. And that profound love for the human in front of them was on display in these two gestures from them. 
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Rick tells her how they’re going to fight the saviors. He says that’s what happens next, and they’re gonna lose people, maybe a lot of them. I’ve always felt like there’s this layered sadness in Rick finally having to talk to Michonne about the real possibility of this war not ending how they hope it will.
Because throughout this ep, Rick so enjoyed seeing Michonne happy and he wanted to stay present in this positive bubble with her. But as the trip concludes, and as Michonne has now learned that losing Rick could potentially make her empty out to the point of dropping her katana in the face of walkers, Rick now knows he has to let talk of unfortunate possibilities in this war enter into their bubble.
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And while it’s not fun to talk about, I appreciate how he still holds her hand throughout this cuz he’s comforting her while knowing this topic is not something she or he really wants to consider. But as the leaders, it’s a discussion that has to be had.
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Then Rick says how they may even lose each other. Which again, how Michonne reacts is how I react because we are not trying to hear that.
She turns away and stays quiet because both her winning mentality and her love for Rick won’t even allow her to entertain the idea of losing the love of her life.
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But Rick isn’t wrong. It’s possible. And I just like that he puts them in their own category because there are the people they love - and they really do love their people - but the idea of losing each other specifically is a very unique type of devastating for them. 
Rick says, "Even then...it’ll be worth it" and, watching it back, maybe it’s just me but I really do hear something in his voice that says he’s not 100% convinced about that point. But he’s trying to believe it and help her believe it too because he knows how distraught she became thinking she lost him and wants to remind her the fight has to continue even if she’s without him.
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And if I wasn’t shedding big tears before...this next part happens.
After shaking her head at the notion of losing each other, Michonne starts to open up as she says, “When I thought that…” and just the trailing off alone is gonna break me every time. Because she can't even bring herself to say the words of thinking he was gone.
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And then Michonne pauses and turns to him and, in the most devastatingly beautiful and vulnerable way, says, “I can’t lose you.”
When I tell you I react to that moment like I’ve never seen it before every time. My heart breaks every time. 😭 The love she has for that man is just so deep, and that was so extremely clear in this moment. I’m shedding a tear every time I hear it idc. 
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Like wow. It’s such a big deal for Michonne to feel this and express this. She was the ultimate lone wolf when we were introduced to her. This was a woman who had lost so much so abruptly at the refugee camp and felt she had to then keep people at a bit of a distance to avoid being heartbroken yet again.
To see how far she’s come to have opened herself up so fully to team family, and to the Grimes family, and particularly to Rick to the point that now she loves him so much she feels she can’t lose him. It's so meaningful.
And this actually speaks to Michonne's strength because her strength isn't just derived from her katana or her ability to fight and survive - Michonne's strength is also radiantly reflected in her willingness to be vulnerable and open her heart up again even despite the risks.
When I tell you this well-rounded character is an inspiration. I stay looking at Michonne (& Danai) like...
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And then y’all, those magnets seem to be kicking in cuz Rick is getting as close as he can to her to remind her that he hasn’t forgotten what she said when she asked him what kind of life they had just surrendered. I love that one thing Rick will never do is forget Michonne or anything she's ever said or done. 😊
Rick expresses that he agrees it wasn’t a life, but what they did while out on this run (and I do think he means everything they did on this run 😋) and fighting for their kids and the communities is what living really is.
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It’s precious seeing Michonne nod through tears as she agrees with him about how making a future for their daughter, Judith, and Glenn and Maggie’s baby and fighting the fight is living. Rick repeats her words from earlier in the ep by bringing up 'fighting the fight' which is sweet.
Again, Richonne tones for the win as Rick tells Michonne that she is the one who showed him that’s living. I love that he always gives her so much credit and acknowledges the positive influence she has on him. Not only does he trust her to have this power in his life but also to straight up tell her she has this power in his life because Michonne would never use her influence for bad or to manipulate.
Rick says she can lose him, and Michonne and I really just be on the same wavelength lol, cuz when she turns and says "no," I felt that. Like even though she knows they have to fight for the future, she still loves Rick so much that she doesn’t want losing him to be on the table. 
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But Rick says she can and that he can lose her. As I’ve noted before, it’s def meant in a literal sense of a physical possibility of losing each other rather than an emotional ability to lose each other and be fine. 
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He softly places his hand on her as he shares they can lose friends, and people they love, and while we hadn’t heard 'I love You’s' by this point, you still just knew how aware they were of how in love they are on this trip.
Interestingly, Rick says, "it’s not about us anymore." The "anymore" makes me think it's said that way because at one point it was somewhat about them for Rick. Not losing Michonne, Carl, and Judith and having more time with them was a big reason why Rick didn't want to fight beforehand.
Then it is a very big deal when Rick tells Michonne that she’ll have to lead the others forward if he doesn’t make it because she’s the one who can. He says it with such conviction, and I adore how much he wholeheartedly believes in her. 
Michonne is truly so perfect in Rick's eyes and so capable. They are each other's biggest fans in the best way.😊
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After all this time spent as the head leader, Rick entrusts Michonne most to pass the baton to in his absence. They’re such equals, and he knows that she can carry the torch and continue doing what he has dedicated his life to doing - which is leading the others forward. 
It’s powerful and also heartbreaking foreshadowing that she’ll have to do just that when he’s taken away. But seeing Michonne protect their ungrateful community post-Rick’s departure was heartwarming to me because it felt like her honoring what Rick shared with her in this van in 7.12.
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Michonne asks how he knows she’s the one who can and then Andy just perfectly delivers the line, “Because you led me here” Powerful. I adore that the scene ends on this. It is so moving and so fitting for Rick to acknowledge the way Michonne has led him here.
Michonne has truly led him in so many ways, and I love that Rick is fully cognizant of that and seems so happy to look at her and let her know the immense impact she has. Rick is always going to give Michonne her flowers. Always. 😌💐
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It’s great seeing Rick get to lift Michonne up and instill some empowerment, honesty, and encouragement to her with this whole conversation. They're both so good at speaking right into the other's heart.
It was a beautifully acted scene, a powerful conversation, and also very telling to both how Rick and Michonne feel about each other and how they’ll proceed when they eventually do get unwillingly separated.
And thank goodness losing each other wasn’t permanent and these magnetic soulmates will finally get to be back in each other's arms once again. It’s where they’re most meant to be. 🥰 
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davidlcki · 1 year
Text
payment
pairing:low honor! arthur x reader
warnings: cursing, arthur is mean, being forced to drink, age gap, game typical violence. i think that’s it
summary: your parents take a loan from strauss, and when they can’t afford it, they send you off as payment instead. it’s a 3 day journey back to the van der linde camp. will you turn the notorious gunslinger soft?
an: please let me know how you guys feel about this one! i’ve been dealing with severe writers block so this took me MONTHS to write. it might not be my best, but i’m just happy to get something out. enjoy, i love you all! ❤️
words: 5,562 (my longest yet i think)
part 2
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shouting from downstairs violently ripped you from your deep sleep, and quickly, you hopped out of bed. your hands shook as you slowly opened your door and made your way to the top of the steps.
“the money. NOW.”
you flinched at the harshness of the man’s words. instantly you knew it was the debt collectors, and that your family had nowhere near the amount needed to pay it off. you listened to your mother and father plead with the man for another week, but he wasn’t having it. at the sound of a gun cocking, your legs began to move on their own. you were bolting down the stairs.
“STOP! please, please don’t hurt them!” you hold your hands out desperately, standing between the man and your parents, who were dead silent. the man paused, the anger in his features seemed to be replaced with amusement. this was the moment that you recognized who this man was. you had seen him in many bounty posters around strawberry, he was arthur morgan.
“well now, why didn’t ya tell me about this fine young lady?” arthur’s gaze drifted from you to your parents, who were looking at each other with a look you couldn’t read. nervously, you looked between your parents and arthur. why weren’t they saying anything?
“she’ll do as payment just fine” arthur shrugs, holstering his gun and giving an easy smile, as if this was no big deal, just another day. you turned to your parents quickly, shaking your head and backing away from arthur.
“please don’t…” you looked between your mother and father desperately. finally, your father speaks.
“take her. if it works as payment, take her.” time seemed to slow as you stared at your father who wouldn’t look you in the eyes. your mother was looking down, you could tell she was holding back tears, but she stayed silent.
“what? wait, wait just-” you glanced at the door quickly, thinking of ways to escape. arthur, was quick to place his hand on his holstered gun.
“i wouldn’t, if i were you.” arthur’s voice was suddenly much lower, and his easy smile was gone in an instant. you knew there was no other way. you turned to your parents, lips in a flat line as you stared at them. you were thinking of what you could possibly say to them, when arthur’s rough hand had a grip on your upper arm.
“your own daughter…for some fucking cash…” your voice was shaky as you were being pulled towards the door. barely having time to slip your boots on, you give your parents one last look before you were out of sight.
for a while, it was silent. you were too in shock to cry or do much of anything, but think.
“we’ll camp here for the night” arthur’s voice startled you out of your thoughts, most of them being how to escape this situation. for now, he had at least some form of trust in you, considering your hands were untied.
arthur morgan was more of a myth than a person, to you. you heard the stories of the hundreds he’s killed and you knew this was probably a bad idea, but you needed to try an escape. once he hopped off his horse, you grabbed onto the reigns and kicked your heels into its sides, but it didn’t budge. the damned horse stayed dead still. the air seemed to thicken as you continued to attempt to get the horse to take off with a series of ‘hyah’s’ and ‘go’s’, but his horse was loyal, seeming to listen to him and only him. when you looked over, you swore you saw flames in arthur’s eyes.
plan b.
from the horse, you deliver a kick into arthur’s chest with all the power you could muster. just as his horse, he dosent budge. arthur lunges forwards, pulling you off the horse roughly and ignoring the protests coming from you as he threw you over his shoulder. you pounded relentlessly on his back, but he didn’t so much as flinch. instead, he tightened his grip on you, nearly squandering your ability to breathe. once finding a clearing about 30 feet into the woods, he throws you onto the grass and pulls out his lasso. you take a few seconds to catch your breath, but you don’t have time to move or get any words out. effortlessly, arthur ties the rope around your wrists and ankles before you could flip over, rendering you immobile.
“bastard! you let me go!” you finally manage to turn yourself onto your back and struggle against the rope that dug into your skin. arthur, clearly unamused at your shouting, sinks down to your level on the ground. his hips were nearly straddling yours as he kneeled and grabbed your face with a rough hand.
“watch it girl.” his voice was drawn out and easy, giving you the impression that he’s done this many times before. he releases his grip on your jaw, and brushes a strand of hair from your forehead. “don’t forget i know where you live. dont try nothin’, less you’re fixin’ to watch your parents die”.
“i don’t…. i don’t care about them anymore. they sold me. pawned me like trash.” your voice was shaky as you spoke up at him, and for a while the both of you sat and stared at each other, heavy breath fanning over your faces. arthur almost had a look of understanding for a moment. it was true. you were angry at them for so carelessly giving you away for their own benefit. in fact, you didn’t know who you were angrier at. arthur, or your own parents. finally, arthur hums and stands. you didn’t dare move from your spot on the ground, instead, you silently watched arthur set up camp. you really were afraid that he’d kill you if you so much as moved. you could see in his eyes that he was only going to let that trick you tried slide once.
you shivered and let out a ragged exhale, still catching your breath as the wind was knocked out of you not long ago. you were desperate for fire, for any kind of warmth. you were only in boots and a thin nightgown, that did much of nothing as the cold from the ground seeped into you.
“cold?” arthur stands next to your shivering frame on the ground. you say nothing, instead giving him an unamused glare. you refused to let him see you cry, so you threw on your best angry facade. you stiffened as he leaned down and lifted you, not letting out a breath of air until you were put down again. now, you were resting against a tree in front of the fire. you let out an inner sigh of relief at the warmth. arthur sits across from the fire, taking a bite of jerky from his satchel.
“so, that’s your parents farm huh? pretty nice, all considering.” arthur pauses, but you say nothing. “live there your whole life?” you didn’t even really hear his question as you asked your own.
“where are you takin’ me?” you watch arthur’s face carefully as he takes a drag from his cigarette.
“you’re joining the gang” arthur flicks the end of his cigarette, the ashes slowly float to the ground. “we need more hands. more people to help fight.”
“i’m no good at fighting” your voice was quiet, you were starting to realize you weren’t getting out of this.
“you will be. now,” arthur stands up and pulls more rope from his horses satchel “rest up, got a long day of riding tomorrow” you scoff as he begins to wrap the rope around you and the tree you were against.
“is this necessary?” arthur says nothing, instead pulling the rope tighter. after, he goes back to his spot, pulling his hat over his face and letting out a rather large sigh. for a long time, you didn’t sleep. instead, you relentlessly tugged and pulled at the rope restraining you. you knew it was pointless, but you couldn’t help trying. your face twisted in pain as your arms scratched against the rough tree bark. arthur must have been very confident in the knots he tied, because you very quickly heard soft snores drifting from across the fire. after what seemed like hours, and a few shed tears, you fell into a restless sleep.
•••
when you awoke the next morning, arthur was up, packing supplies into his horses satchel and humming to himself softly. you stayed silent, observing the man who was so mean to you do a task so mundane. when you looked down, you noticed arthur’s brown coat was thrown over your frame. it smelled like tobacco and gunpowder. when arthur noticed you were up, he quickly took his jacket back and went over to untie the rope holding you to the tree.
“morning sunshine” he throws you a smile as he pulls the rope from around the tree off, along with the rope on your ankles.
“i trust you won’t run”
“no” your voice was hoarse and you shivered violently as the wind attacked your bare skin that was previously covered. arthur stopped, thinking for a second as he took in your frame with a slow look from your head to your ankles and back up again. he pulls you to your feet, letting you catch your footing on wobbly legs as he rummaged around for his canteen. he flicks the cap off and grabs your jaw so roughly and suddenly that you let out an involuntary gasp of shock. he turns your face towards him and inspects you for a second before continuing. you could only wonder what he was thinking, his lip twitching ever so slightly into the ghost of a smile as he continued.
“drink” he puts the canteen to your mouth and watches as you desperately gulped down the water. after about 5 seconds, he pulled it away, taking a swig of the liquid himself before stowing it back on his horse.
“long ride ahead,” arthur lifts you onto his horse before hopping in front of you in the saddle, “gonna take a few days i reckon, so get comfortable”.
arthur wasn’t lying. you rode all day, so long that you couldn’t remember what direction you came from or how to get back home. although that outcome was unlikely now. desperate to escape the cold, you pressed yourself against arthur’s back. you felt him stiffen at the contact, but were too cold to care. you couldn’t count the hours it’d been, and for a while you were pretty sure you fell asleep. throughout the day, you only made a few stops. one for bathroom breaks, and one for his horse to rest. the rest of the day was a blur, not much was said, and the only noise you heard was the trotting of hoofs on the ground and the rustle of trees in the wind. when the sun began to set, arthur finally pulled to a stop.
“seems like a good spot” arthur observes the clearing, giving you a stern look before hopping off of his horse, remembering the stunt you pulled last time.
“gonna tie me to a tree again?” your voice was dripping in sarcasm as you allowed him to pull you off the horse.
“you gonna make me?” arthur’s tone matched yours as he pulled out his bedroll and some other supplies. you waited for the extra rope to come, but it never did. arthur instead unties your hands, then reties them in front of you. you audibly sigh at the discomfort that began to dissipate, and you rolled your shoulders a few times in satisfaction.
“y’ dont wanna run off in these parts,” arthur warns as the fire lights up the clearing. “the people will get to ya before the animals do.” you said nothing in response. for a few hours, you stayed dead silent. ignoring arthur’s snarky comments and nothing more than blinking when he’d toss the end of a cigarette or a twig off the ground at you. arthur began to heat a small can of stew, smiling teasingly as he watches you eye it. he pulls gin out of his pocket, downing a hefty swig.
“if you want some, you gotta speak, girl.” arthur eats a large scoop of stew, groaning dramatically in satisfaction in an attempt to tease you.
“fuck you. that enough?” arthur snorts a laugh at your response, deciding to give you a bite. you quickly chew and swallow it, savoring the taste.
“what’s your name anyway?” arthur pauses, scooping out some more stew and holding it up. “you answer me if you wanna eat.”
“Y/N. Y/N L/N” arthur feeds you the stew and downs more gin. halfway through the bottle now.
“Y/N” the way your name rolled off his tongue sent a chill down your spine. “you gotta pretty name, Y/N. how old are ya?”
you eye the man for a while, before looking back down to the tempting spoon of stew. “i’m 22. now can you feed me the god damn food?” you were getting testy now, watching arthur eat and down almost an entire bottle of gin while you’ve had nothing for over a day will do that to you.
“you got a mouth on ya!” arthur let’s out a laugh, feeding you another bite and finishing the rest of the stew himself. he stands up, stretching his legs and yawning, before walking over to you casually. nervously, you watch as arthur squats down to be eye level with you.
“sleep” a small smile crosses his face, confusing you. then, he places a hand on your shoulder and shoves you to the side so you’re in a laying position in the grass. a yelp escapes your lips as you hit the ground. “night”
you watch in disbelief as arthur goes to his spot on the bed roll, very quickly falling asleep with his hat on his face as usual. now was your turn. you thought about running, but had a feeling that arthur wasn’t lying about the people around these parts. slowly, you drifted to sleep in the damp grass.
•••
you woke up to the sound of footsteps crunching in the dead leaves. instantly you were alert. when you looked over, arthur was still passed out. you guessed the gin running through his veins was doing its work. you stayed silent, sitting up slowly and looking into the dark of the forrest around you. the fire was almost out at this point. you tugged anxiously at the ropes binding your hands. there were the footsteps again, from behind you this time. you knew those weren’t from an animal. before you could react, a man came running out of the woods. he was on you in seconds, knife in hand. you let out a scream of terror as you were slammed onto your back. you squeezed your eyes shut, preparing for the knife to be plunged into your chest, but it never came. instead, there was a gunshot that seemed to shake the forest. when you opened your eyes, there was a bullet hole between the eyes of the man as he crumpled on top of you. the weight of him smothered the cry that you tried to let out. arthur was over in seconds, shoving the body off of you and pulling you to a sitting position. there was genuine worry that you saw for a mere second in his face.
“y’ alright?” he was still blinking the sleep from his eyes as he looked you over for stab wounds. he was half awake, trying to make sense of what was going on. as you opened your mouth to speak, another man emerged from the dark of the woods. he shoved arthur over, effectively knocking the gun from his hands. you were in a trance, looking between arthur, the man, and the pistol laying right in front of you. arthur’s voice startled you out of it. his voice was strained as he called your name out, he was using all his strength to hold the knife mere inches away from his chest. with your tied hands, you picked up the pistol. it was heavier than you expected.
“do… it…” his eyes pleaded with you, meanwhile, the tip of the knife was beginning to sink into his chest. without anymore hesitation, you aimed at the attackers head and pulled the trigger. your ears rung more than the first gunshot that was fired earlier, and you noticed the almost painful vibrations that flowed through your hands. arthur let’s out a sigh of relief, pushing the body off of him and sitting up, before quickly freezing again. he stared at you blankly as you continued to point the pistol at him.
“Y/N…” he holds his hands up and shakes his head. “y’ don’t wanna do this”
you looked at him for a long while, tears were dripping down your cheeks and your hands were shaking violently. you were debating killing him right here and now. but how would you make it in there woods? how would you find your way back? then, you remembered why you were here in the first place, and how your parents threw you out without a thought. finally, slowly, you lowered the gun, arthur took this oppertunity to snatch it from your hands, before audibly exhaling. he watched carefully as you broke down in tears, hugging onto yourself the best you could with tied hands and trying to wipe blood off of your nightgown.
“hey… i uh…” arthur didnt know what to say as he placed a hand upon your shoulder in attempted reassurance. to his surprise, you threw yourself into his embrace. slowly, he wrapped his arms around your frame and listened to you cry. he noticed the red marks on your wrists under the rope, and was shocked at the pang of guilt he felt. without thinking, he takes out his hunting knife and cuts the rope off of you. you use this time to wrap your arms around his waist. arthur slowly runs a hand up and down your back as you continued to sob.
“i’m scared, arthur.” was all you could get out. you had never killed a man before, and the reality was setting in. all arthur could do was mutter an awkward series of ‘it’s alright’ and ‘i’m here’s’ until you calmed down enough to let go. arthur was almost sad at the loss of your presence, and he wished he could rip this part of him out. this part that yearned for love and affection and what he was just finding out, you. half of him screamed as he draped his coat around your shoulders, while the other half cheered.
you avoided eye contact with the gunslinger as you attempted to get your tears under control, pulling his coat around yourself gingerly.
“thank you… for not letting me be killed” you kept your eyes on the fire, too afraid to look at arthur or the bodies or the blood on your skin.
“and thank you, for not shootin’ me along with this feller” you let out a scoff, lips twitching up into a small smile you mustered up. arthur took the time to move the bodies away from camp and your sight, eventually returning and sitting down again. there was a new feeling in the air between you and the gunslinger. a bond forged in blood and death. arthur never tied your hands again, and he kept watch the rest of the night. though neither of you got another wink of sleep, you stayed close to each other, shoulders touching as you sat side by side. you asked arthur plenty of questions about his gang. you were genuinely curious what it was like. you could tell he was fond of them by the way his features softened at just the thought. you realized, they were family, and it didn’t sound so bad. after hours of trying to will the sun to come up faster, it finally rose, and you were more than glad to keep moving.
you couldn’t tell how long it’d been now. you slept for a while the way you have been, your face pressed against arthur’s back in a somewhat comfortable position, but when you opened your eyes again you were in a town. upon reading the sign, you realized it was valentine. you could hear the chatter in the distance, and your eyes lit up with surprise. it had been days since you’d seen another person besides arthur. arthur must have felt you sit up straighter, because he quickly stopped his horse and looked back at you.
“i trust you’re not gonna try no shit?” he asks, exhaling cigarette smoke from his lungs. you hold back the urge to cough as the smoke wafts over your face. he observes you for a second more before straightening your messy hair. you knew it was so you looked more presentable to the town, but it was oddly gentle, intimate.
“no, but people are going to ask questions, arthur.” you spit his name out, and reference down to your now dirty and tattered nightgown. you were upset at the shift between you both after what you went through the night before, and it was hard for you to contain your anger as you spoke. the lack of food and clean clothes was starting to get to you. arthur stares at you for a while, before sighing heavily. though he still gave you attitude, you were surprised with the patience he was beginning to keep with you.
“okay… here” after a second of thinking, he pulled his coat off and placed it around your shoulders once again. casually, the two of you trotted into town, slowing to a stop at the hotel. you ignored the stares the townsfolk gave you as you walked inside. being in a tattered gown and a jacket two big was definitely turning heads.
“one bath for the lady please” arthur tosses the owner a coin and nudges you towards the bath house. once in front of the door, he grabs your wrist and turns you towards him.
“you clean up, i’ll be right back. dont get no ideas of runnin’ off now, because i will find you.” his voice was low as he looked down at you, though you were starting to notice the facade he was putting up. the way he gently held your wrist told you all you needed to know, and unbeknownst to him, you weren’t really planning on leaving. the last place you wanted to go, was back home.
“wouldnt dream of it” your voice was dripping with sarcasm as you pulled your wrist from his grip and pushed your way into the bath house.
once you finished cleaning up, you pulled the towel around yourself and waited awkwardly, leaning from foot to foot as you waited for arthur to come back. the last thing you wanted was to put your old clothes on, so you stood by the fire and slowly dried off. finally, arthur pushed his way into the bath house holding a bag. he froze for a second as he took in your frame, only covered by the small towel. once you started walking towards him, he looked anywhere but at you as he handed you the bag. you say nothing, pulling the clothes out and dropping your towel as you began to pull them on. it was a simple brown dress with yellow detailing on the sleeves, collar, and bottom. you could tell arthur had picked it out, considering how it matched to his own clothes. there was also a new night gown in the bag, and you smiled to yourself.
“could you?” you turn away from the man who was doing most anything but look at you. when he shifted his gaze to you again, your back was turned to him, revealing an unlaced corset.
“yeah… yeah sure” arthur’s hands gingerly fiddled with the string, trying his best to will away the reddening of his cheeks as he observed your exposed back. it had been forever since he had been with another woman, and he cursed the feelings arising in him for you. you turned towards him afterwards, unable to help the smile of relief from being in clean clothes.
“you… you look nice” arthur looks down at your dress, then quickly he turns and pulls you out of the bathhouse with him before you can utter a ‘thank you’.
“you hungry?” arthur wasn’t really asking as the two of you headed towards the saloon, though you almost cried tears of joy at the thought of food. with a glance to the clock on the wall, you realized it was already 6PM. the scent of food that floated through the saloon nearly made you drool. eagerly, you sat at the bar and waited for your steak and potatoes that arthur ordered to arrive.
“2 whiskeys please” arthur tosses a few coins at the bartender who nods in compliance.
“oh i… i don’t drink” arthur looks at you straight faced, sliding the shot glass to you.
“drink” his eyes stayed trained on you all the way until the shots were taken, the burning liquid slides down your throat roughly. arthur let out a hardy laugh as you coughed, instantly digging into your food as it arrived to get rid of the taste.
“another” arthur tosses more coins, not batting an eye when you protest.
“i’m not drinking anymore, arthur!” you glare in his direction angrily. arthur pauses for a while, before leaning in close and bringing the shot to your lips.
“drink the damn whiskey girl.” his voice was low and gravelly as he parted your lips with his thumb, before tilting the shot glass forward. nervously, you swallowed it. this moment reminded you that you were still technically being kidnapped by him, and that he wasn’t messing around. arthur smiles a little, taking his own shot.
“good girl.” you silently turn back to your food, eating slowly and trying to keep track of the amount of shots he was taking. eventually it became too many to count. luckily, he didn’t make you take anymore, too preoccupied with himself.
“arthur that’s enough, let’s go” it had been an hour now, and arthur was shitfaced. the wooziness you had began to feel went away quickly as you scarfed down your food. “you’re drunk”
“am not” arthur smiled lazily, attempting to order another drink, but you snatch the coins from his hand and tell the bartender we’re done. arthur gets up angrily, towering over your frame that was still sat on the stool. he opens his mouth to speak, but instead bumps shoulders with another man who was walking past.
“you bastard! watch it” arthur shoves the man back, sending him tumbling into another man behind him. shit.
in a flash, it was an all out fight between, well, you couldn’t count how many men. you stumbled back, trying to look for arthur in the crowd of men. finally, you spotted him falling to the ground and out of sight again. you debated for a while. do you wanna keep saving this fool? you bounced from foot to foot anxiously, cursing under your breath before bracing yourself and shoving your way through the fighting men. you dodged punches left and right, some of them had to have hit you, but your adrenaline blocked out the pain. finally, you spotted arthur on the ground unconscious.
“son of a bitch!” your voice was drowned out by the shouting, but you finally managed to hook your arms under arthur’s and drag him from the fighting, all the way outside, to the hotel across the street.
“one room please” you spoke to the clerk between heavy breaths, fishing into arthur’s pockets and pulling out the last coins he had for the room. you realized how bad this looked, so you tried to explain yourself. “i- i know him, i swear.” the clerk just nods wearily, recognizing the two of you from earlier and handing you the key. with help of the clerk, you got arthur into the bed.
the next hour or so you spent wiping arthur’s face down with any cloth and water you could find. he looked bad, face bruised and bloody, clothes ripped, you couldn’t help but think he looked beautiful even in this state. finally, you turned to the mirror to tend to your own wounds, which happened to only be a few bruises on your arms and ribs. you sigh in frustration at the new rip on the side of your dress. you almost didn’t notice as arthur began to wake.
“oh… what… happened?” arthur’s voice was slurred as he sat up slowly, wincing in pain and blinking hard.
“you almost fucking died, that’s what!” your voice was nearly bubbling over with anger as you stormed from the mirror over to him. “and so did i, pulling you out from all those men. you’re lucky i haven’t ran off or killed ya! you’re a fool, arthur. a damned fool.” you were tired of holding back your anger, you were pushed to your limit with him. arthur was looking at the bruises on your arms and your waist through your ripped dress, then up at you with the most puppy dog eyed look you’d seen on him.
“m’ sorry.” arthur’s voice was quiet as he spoke and you watched as a drop of blood trickled out of the corner of his mouth. “really, you can go. after the hell i dragged you through…” arthur scoffs a laugh and looks to the side. when you don’t speak, or leave, he looks back at you with confusion.
“i’m not gonna leave.” you paused for a while, trying to decide if this was the right decision. “i wanna join the gang.” arthur’s eyes widen at your words, but he nods slowly in response.
“i knew you’d come around” he smiles what you assumed was a genuine one. he then begins to stand, nearly toppling over on you before you grab onto him, steadying him.
“jesus, take it easy!” you push him back down into a sitting position on the bed and lean closer to his face. “i hope you have some doctors in your gang. you’re going to need stitches” you wipe at the blood on corner of his mouth with your thumb and sigh as you observe his wounds once more. when you went to pull away, arthur grabbed your wrist gently. your breath caught in your throat as you looked into his eyes nervously. you didn’t know what he was thinking. his face was unreadable. was he angry? you couldn’t tell. you opened your mouth to speak. you were going to utter your best form of apology for your assumed anger on his part, but arthur silenced you by leaning forwards and pressing his lips against yours. you let out a smothered gasp against his lips, taking a stumbling step back and tilting your head up as arthur stands again. a quiet moan of pain escapes his lips as he leans some of his weight against you. after a few moments of silence, that felt to you like minutes, you pull away, turning your head from him in uncertainty. you didn’t know what you wanted. if this was right. he was dangerous, you knew that, but something about him drew you in dangerously.
“i… i just” you tried to find the words, anything to say to him, but your feelings were like a big tangled ball of string and you couldn’t figure it out.
“i’m sorry.” arthur cuts you off, letting out a cough of pain as he backs off, limping his way to the other side of the room.
“let’s rest. we can talk about things tomorrow.” you watched in disbelief as he laid himself down on the floor by the entrance of the room, pulling his hat over his eyes and breathing deep. you could taste his blood on your lips. you took this time to change into your new night gown and toss your dress to the side. you assumed it would be trash, being unable to sew or afford a tailor.
upon crawling into bed, you fell asleep almost instantly. you missed the feeling of a bed after sleeping on the ground for days. you slept through the entire night, ignoring the throb of your bruises and the commotion of the streets of valentine. when you awoke in the morning, the first thing you noticed was that arthur was gone. the second thing you noticed, was your dress, folded neatly at the end of your bed. slowly, you crawled over and unfolded it, noticing the rip had been carefully sewn shut. with it, there was a piece of paper.
“i’m sorry for what i put you through. you deserve a choice. if you want to run with us, i won’t stop you. if you want to go back to your family, you have my word you won’t see me again.
-A”
upon flipping the note, there was the location of the gangs camp. you knew what you were going to do.
part 2
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dathen · 7 months
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I love how the very INSTANT Mina shows up, she brings with her an entirely new strategy that—unknown to her—is the exact opposite of the strategy that Van Helsing has insisted upon and worked so hard to teach Jack so far:
“You tell not your madmen what you do nor why you do it; you tell them not what you think. So you shall keep knowledge in its place, where it may rest—where it may gather its kind around it and breed. You and I shall keep as yet what we know here, and here." He touched me on the heart and on the forehead, and then touched himself the same way.
We had “keep all the knowledge in one place, so it can grow,” which was applied not just to supernatural knowledge but even to keeping Lucy’s condition and treatments secret from Arthur. Van Helsing very much operates on a “need to know” basis, and to him trust is based on authority rather than openness.
But this story is about the power of friendship and document review! And it’s MINA who brings us the heart of it, along with a passionate, logical, and compelling argument that succeeds in changing Jack’s mind:
“In the struggle which we have before us to rid the earth of this terrible monster we must have all the knowledge and all the help which we can get. . . . We need have no secrets amongst us; working together and with absolute trust, we can surely be stronger than if some of us were in the dark."
And the spicy part is that she knows it contradicts Van Helsing’s methods: she listened to the same recordings we did. And Van Helsing told Jack that in his absence he should the the one gathering and hoarding knowledge, with no mention of sharing any of his own with the others. Despite this, Jack is so impressed by Mina’s ‘courage and resolution’ that he concedes, and opens up the rest of his heart.
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beedreamscape · 1 year
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Evandrin laughs increases and so does Zerxus' worry.
His amber eyes follow as he paces their living room. "Is everything alright?"
Evandrin nods, unable to stop his laughing. "Perfect, this is... this is wonderful."
Zerxus takes a deep breath and leans back on the armchair, the invitation pinched between his fingers, allowing his husband the time to settle down. It was one piece of the most luxurious invitation box both had ever seen, parts now layed out over their dinner table.
The nervous laughter settles into a pained sound, deep dimple between his fair brows. "Oh my, I'm a terrible person."
"No, you're not." Zerxus leans forward, elbows to his knees, that look so close to the one he makes when Elias is misbehaving. "What is worrying you?"
"I'm not... worried, per se. I- I'm not ready to let go of Laerryn."
"She'll still be your best friend. She's just getting married, Van, she's not leaving for war. She's not even leaving the neighborhood!"
"That lucky bastard Loquatius. You know how long she and I had to hunt for even the crappiest apartment when we first got here? We almost slept on the streets cause everything was too expensive but we would've done it if it meant staying in Avalir..."
His smile slowly fades as the wave of nostalgia recedes, leaving just the memories on the sand.
Zerxus offers a kind smile. "You never told me that."
"Didn't I? I guess it just never came up before this." He casts his eyes upon the now empty velvet and gold invitation box.
"This is worrying me, you haven't had these doubts about them before."
"Because I didn't comprehend the depths of her feelings for him. I thought he was just a fun pastime, a spice to her life, a trinket of a friend. Yes, they've spent so much time together that even I started to get a little jealous, but I had imagined sooner or later she'd get sick of him. Laerryn is my twin soul but she doesn't talk to me about those big feelings. When she tried to explain it to me last week, when she told me they were getting married, I genuinely thought she was joking."
"Is Loquatius the cause of your worry?"
"No. Well, not exactly. I trust Laerryn's judgment. Even though he's quite the character... not to mention his newspaper thing is growing crazy fast and you know how these people in big media are! It was their own hubris that toppled the Zenith News before him."
"And you think it's a bad thing that he's successful?"
"Of course not. So long as he doesn't let it go to his head! Zerxus, I swear if he steps out of line and hurts Laerryn, I don't know what I'm capable of."
Zerxus gets up, towering over Evandrin by a few good inches, and places those heavy hands of his over his shoulders.
"I don't know Laerryn as much as you do, I never will, but if I know one thing about her is that she's a force to be reckoned with. She's also a really smart woman. It's takes a man of character and courage to claim her heart. Loquatius apparently has both."
"I wonder if he knows what he's getting into. She's a wonderful woman, but she's a challenge. I've told her as much many times before."
"They are quite different people but I don't think that's news to anybody."
Evandrin looks deep into his husband's eyes. "Love makes fools out of us."
Zerxus gives a hearty laugh. "Yes, you married me after all."
After a long laugh, he makes an exasperated sound, throwing his hands up. "Who would've thought!? Laerryn Coramar falling in love! Loving that person enough to get married! And so young..."
"Isn't she 130 something?"
"142. Which is quite young for a high-elf, not immature by any means but with centuries ahead of her. She's a sturdy one, I wouldn't be surprised if she lived well beyond a millennia. Which changelings certainly don't."
"Won't that mean she'll then be free to pursue other people in the future?"
"But she'll carry the grief of his loss with her. If he doesn't decide to whisk her away to the Fey realm, that is. Oh Zerxus, I don't even like thinking about it."
"I think it'd take more than an army to drag Laerryn away from the city she calls hers. I'm glad someone could find home here." Before Evandrin can comment on that, he continues. "I think the best way to put your soul at rest would be to talk to Laerryn herself. No one will be more straightforward about this."
"Maybe later, this is probably already enough pressure over her. Her first replenishment as Architect Arcane and now this, she doesn't need the added weight of me questioning the complex puzzle of her feelings."
Zerxus offers his hand which Evandrin takes readily.
"Do you trust her?"
Evandrin doesn't hesitate, not even for half a second.
"With my life."
"Then you can trust, whatever the either very simple or extremely convoluted explanation to this decision might be, that she knows what she's doing."
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thethirdromana · 7 months
Text
I'm going to preface this by saying that I don't know how much this actually holds up, but I've been thinking about how each of the Dracula characters perceives/judges other people.
Jack Seward judges people based on looks. I don't necessarily mean that he's shallow (though I think that can be part of his character!) but his judgment is all based on observation. He's the character who describes Mina's looks the most, he's preoccupied with Quincey and Arthur's manly appearance, and he's surprised when Jonathan's appearance doesn't match his character. As soon as Renfield looks less like Jack's idea of a madman, he immediately thinks he should be released from the asylum, even though Renfield tried to kill him less than two weeks earlier.
Van Helsing judges people based on role. We see that in his misjudged treatment of Mina: she has been assigned the role of Woman (wife/future mother) and the fact that she would be better off within the circle of men completely passes him by. Similarly Arthur gets assigned Son (to Van Helsing) and Husband (to Lucy). Quincey is Hero. Despite how their relationship has changed, Jack is still stuck in the role of Student.
Quincey judges people based on action. There's less to go on here, but his trust of Van Helsing is assured by Van Helsing's care of Lucy, and his friendship with Mina and Lucy is sealed, in both cases, with a kiss.
Arthur judges people based on emotion. Very slim pickings to demonstrate this given there's so little in this novel that's actually in Arthur's voice, but his connections with Mina, Van Helsing and Lucy all seem to take place at a more emotional level than those of the other suitors. Lucy presents Arthur's proposal as more emotional than those of the other suitors; he connects with Mina by sharing grief; and he is more emotionally reactive to Van Helsing's treatment of Lucy than the others.
Jonathan judges people based on... idk, I want to say kindness? I don't know how much of this is that he simply experiences more kindness (as well as more suffering!) than the other characters in the novel. But from the very beginning when the old woman gives him her crucifix, it feels like kindness is something that Jonathan responds to strongly, and unkindness too.
Lucy is trickier too because we don't see her judging people as much as the other characters, since she doesn't meet that many people for the first time on the page. She responds warmly to Van Helsing because he is good to her. I think there's an element of judging people based on social norms but I don't know how much that holds up.
And then there's Mina, who doesn't really fit into any of these patterns. She responds to looks (her physiognomic assessment of Van Helsing), to roles and social norms (accepting the men sidelining her, albeit unhappily), to emotion (the suitors' love of Lucy), to action (the men's protection of her).
I think this demonstrates once again that Mina is the very heart of the novel. She is the listener who hears both the bands; she compiles the text itself; she reflects the strengths of the group with (in Van Helsing's words) a man's brain and a woman's heart; and she spans many of the different ways that they judge, perceive and relate to people too.
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