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Jerseygirllll - Munsons Girl - Tumblr Blog
I'm a hopeless romantic who is also a little bit of a pervert
Pedro’s reaction to his 3 nominations, as reported by theplaylist.net:
Source
This whole little series is amaaaazing 🤭🤭
cinephile
6k (got carried away...again) / dbf!joel x f!reader
warnings: 18+, minors dni. smut smut smut. this is filthy. age gap (reader is 23, joel is in his late 40s), semi-public fingering, jealousy, unprotected p in v, dbf!joel, dom!joel, dirty talk, praise kink, pet names (angel, baby, sweetheart, etc), no use of y/n.
follow-up to fourth of july (pt 1), put it into words (pt 2), and poolside (pt 3), but this can be read separately. masterlist here. kofi here. reblogs & comments always appreciated, love y'all. 🖤
“’S a seat right here.” He releases his grip on your ankle and pats the spot beside him. Then he leans back on his elbows, sprawled out on the grass. “‘F you want.”
Your heart nudges at your throat. You cast a wary glance behind you — up the makeshift aisle in the yard, where your neighbors are spread picnic-style — and try to spot your dad. Or Sarah. Neither notices you.
“Okay,” you say, softly. You step over his legs and sit beside him.
He smiles. Small; Joel, but genuine. He grabs a blanket and tosses it across both of your laps.
It’s dark by the time the movie starts. You’re pretty sure it’s E.T., but you can’t really be sure, because the second the opening credits play Joel’s hand is on your thigh.
And then you can’t think about anything else.
You barely sleep after your late-night swim with Joel. You spend most of the night — what’s left of it, anyway — thinking about him. His lips. His hands. His head between your thighs.
You make yourself cum twice with his name on your mouth. Your vibrator remains untouched, tucked away in the top shelf of your nightstand. You doubt you’ll need it anytime soon.
So it’s understandable you’re tired — exhausted, even — when movie night rolls around the next evening. You’re half-asleep on the couch when your dad comes bouncing down the steps with a beer in his hand.
He walks up to the couch. Jabs your leg with his shoe.
“What are you, eighty?” he teases. “Can’t even make it to seven o’clock?”
You make a noncommittal sound. Your eyes flicker open and you yawn.
“Late night?” he asks, eyeing you. He’d been asleep by the time you’d come home last night. He hadn’t seen you unlatch the door with trembling hands and scale the stairs in Joel’s shirt. “You and Sarah have fun?”
“Uh—” You shake your head, clearing the cobwebs. It’s an innocent question, but your heart still pounds. “Yeah. We went swimming.”
He nods. “Was Joel there?”
Now you’re awake. Your head whips to him. You straighten on the couch, nails biting at the cushions.
“I don’t — um. What — why?”
Your dad shrugs. He looks at you, a little perplexed, and lifts his hands in mock surrender.
“Just a question. Jeez. Been tryin’ to get ahold of him since the Fourth of July. I think he’s avoidin’ me.”
“Oh.” You pick at a nail. “Yeah. I don’t know. Maybe he has work, or something. You said he had that big client.”
“Maybe.” He shrugs again. “But you didn’t see him. While you were with Sarah.”
“Um.” You hesitate. “No. I mean, he might’ve come in later. I dont know. We were watching a movie.”
You’re not sure why you lie. It would be just as easy to admit that you’d seen him. But then there’d be the follow-up: How’d he seem? You talk to him? — and the thought of discussing Joel Miller right here, now, on the couch with your dad — is enough to make you squirm.
For what it’s worth, your dad seems unfazed.
“Ah, well. Guess I’ll see him tonight, anyway. I’ll find out what’s up.”
Your breath stumbles. You nod, avoiding his gaze when a blush creeps in. You mumble something about getting ready and shove off of the couch, slipping past him before he can notice the marks on your skin. The blurred almost-bruises where Joel’s teeth scraped your neck.
You do your best to cover them up before you come back downstairs. But the concealer you’re using is mediocre, at best, and the angry red seeps through. You settle for wearing your hair down, around your neck, and hope to god it gets the job done.
Your dad is waiting by the door when you return. He gives you a cursory glance —
“New dress?”
—and your skin flushes.
“Um, yeah.”
“Looks nice, kid.”
“Thanks.” You manage a smile. You sure as hell don’t tell him who it’s for.
You follow him out the door and down the street. It’s warm out again — Texas summers — and there’s the gentle, persistent buzz of a thousand cicadas. A lone black cloud drips over the road.
Your dad points it out while you walk. “Better hope it doesn’t rain,” he says. “Alicia’s been plannin’ to host for a month now. She’ll be pissed.”
You’re only half-listening. But your ears perk up at the name.
Alicia Simmons. Ms. Simmons to you. The same Ms. Simmons who’d had her manicured claws in Joel just last week at his barbecue.
“You didn’t tell me she was hosting,” you say, carefully. A scowl tugs at your mouth.
“Didn’t think you’d care,” your dad says.
“I don’t,” you say, quickly. Too quickly. “I just…didn’t know.”
He looks at you. But for all his qualities he’s not exactly perceptive, and he doesn’t clock the look on your face, or the bloom of red on your collar when the breeze lifts your hair. So he lets it go, the way dads do. Leads the way to Ms. Simmons while you drag your feet behind him.
—
She knows how to host. You’ll give her that much.
Her house is at the end of the block, at the top of a cul-de-sac. Long and low and suburban, like the rest, but with a distinct touch of divorcee. A tiny white dog greets you at the door — badly groomed and trained even worse, with a blinged-out tag that reads PRINCE.
She’s gone all out in the yard for movie night. Blankets piled on the grass. Round, colorful cushions scattered like candy. A giant outdoor screen propped up by metal spokes. It’s still being set up when you wander out there — by none other than Joel Miller, you realize, when he steps around the front to admire his handiwork.
He does a double-take when he sees you standing there, flanked by your dad. He recovers nicely, though — always smooth, in control — and wipes his forearm across his brow.
Your stomach swirls. It would be embarrassing, the effect he has on you, if it wasn’t so strong. You look down at the ground, and you can feel his gaze sweep you. Your legs, your thighs, the hem of the dress you’ve worn just for him.
And then the heat lifts off your skin, and you hear him say something to your dad. You figure it’s safe to look, so you do — and, fuck.
He looks good.
He always looks good. But the way he’s standing right now: sleeves shoved to his elbows, hammer hanging from his hand as he straightens from the spokes — it makes your breath hitch.
If he feels you staring he doesn’t let on. It drives you crazy how poised he is. How casual. Drawling out some easy, Joel-excuse when your dad asks him why he’s been ditching his calls.
Just been busy, you hear him say. Lotta smart-ass clients these days.
You don’t miss the smirk he gives you, in the split-second when your dad looks away.
You’re interrupted — maybe mercifully so — by Ms. Simmons herself, waltzing into the yard to examine Joel’s work. The movie hasn’t started and she’s already plastered.
“I knew you’d figure it out,” she slurs, placing a hand on Joel’s bicep. His brows lift, but he doesn’t say anything. She leans in, theatrically close. “You’re amazing. So good with that hammer.”
Oh, Jesus. You have to look away to keep from gagging. Even your dad stifles a smile. He might be oblivious, but she’s about as subtle as a plane crash.
Joel takes it in stride. Ever the gentleman. He mutters something about getting the movie started, finding a seat, talking to Sarah — three excuses for the price of one — and wanders off into the sea of neighbors.
You excuse yourself, too, before she can corner you. She goes to turn the movie on, finally, and you scan the yard in search of a seat. Your dad is unavailable — scooped up by a group of golfing buddies. Sarah is similarly out of commission, wrapped up in a posse of old high school friends. You don’t want to crash her party.
You spot an empty patch of grass by the front of the screen. You almost make it there before a hand snakes fast around your ankle.
You start, catching yourself before you can trip. Your foot drags on the grass.
You glance down. Joel looks up at you, head tilted halfway to the side, hand wrapped loose around your ankle.
Your pulse drums.
“Where you goin’?” he drawls.
“To my seat?”
“’S a seat right here.” He releases his grip on your ankle and pats the spot beside him. Then he leans back on his elbows, sprawled out on the grass. “‘F you want.”
Your heart nudges at your throat. You cast a wary glance behind you — up the makeshift aisle in the yard, where your neighbors are spread picnic-style — and try to spot your dad. Or Sarah. Neither notices you.
“Okay,” you say, softly. You step over his legs and sit beside him.
He smiles. Small; Joel, but genuine. He grabs a blanket and tosses it across both of your laps.
It’s dark by the time the movie starts. You’re pretty sure it’s E.T., but you can’t really be sure, because the second the opening credits play Joel’s hand is on your thigh.
And then you can’t think about anything else.
He shifts closer to you, drawing circles on your knee with the tip of his finger. His hand moves higher, dragging goosebumps up your thigh, and his knuckles bump the hem of your dress. You get it, now. Why he asked you to wear this. The thought makes you shiver.
He’s moving so. fucking. slowly. Two hour movie, and at this rate he’s planning on taking the whole runtime to work his way up your leg. You squirm, a little impatient, and start to hike your dress up yourself when Alicia Simmons — fucking Alicia — materializes in front of you like a washed-out ghost.
You freeze. You’re covered up by the blanket, but you still drop your hand.
Joel doesn’t. His palm stays glued to your thigh, big and broad and warm, squeezing gently even as Alicia clambers awkwardly over the blankets to sit on the other side of him.
“Thought I’d squeeze in,” she whispers, loudly. “Nowhere else to sit.”
You bristle. You can spot about a thousand other places to sit in your peripheral alone.
Joel grunts. You’re not sure why it annoys you — it’s not like you expect him to tell her no, and kick her out of her own backyard — but, if you’re honest, you’d kind of like him to.
He scoots over to allow her room. She spreads out beside him, too close to be comfortable, and leans into his side with a sigh.
He ignores her. His gaze stays fixed on the screen. His fingers flex at the seam of your thigh.
You try your best to watch the movie too. But you’re not as stoic as Joel — not as unreadable — and you pluck angry fistfuls of grass from your side. You’re pissed. You hate the way she’s leaning on him, hate the wine you can smell on her breath, hate the lipstick that smears with her satisfied smile.
His free hand — the one not currently squeezing your thigh — isn’t covered by the blanket. It’s splayed at his side, palm flat against the grass. You can see Alicia’s gears turning, out of the corner of your eye — and then, sure enough, her long, painted nails as they skate across his knuckles.
“Fuck’s sake,” you hiss. It’s barely audible. But it’s loud enough for Joel to hear — loud enough to draw his gaze from the screen, momentarily, and catch the fire in your eyes.
He adjusts himself, subtly moving his hand from hers. It’s smooth; inconspicuous. She probably doesn’t even realize he’s done it on purpose.
His other hand — the one burning a brand on your thigh — moves half an inch higher.
Your breath catches. You squirm and his grip doubles down.
He leans forward, slightly, and puts his hand to his mouth like he’s biting back a cough. Then he growls at you, muffled, only loud enough for you to hear.
“Keep fuckin’ still.”
Your body responds to him immediately. You settle.
He leans back. His hand slips beneath your hem and his knuckles ghost fabric. You lift your hips — almost instinctively — and his hand clamps around your leg. You watch his jaw flicker. He doesn’t tear his gaze from the movie, but the message is clear. What did I just say?
You swallow. You try your best to stay still; completely still, as his fingers stroke up your thigh. When he grazes the edge of your underwear you part your knees, making room for his broad hand between your legs.
You wait for him to scold you. But he doesn’t, this time. Either he doesn’t notice you move — you doubt it — or this is affecting him more than his stony expression lets on. Judging by the way his fingers tense against you, stinging into your skin — you guess it’s the latter.
You’re soaking wet for him already. Half an hour of aimless touching; of him dragging tiny, hopeless circles on your thigh — has driven you ten kinds of crazy. He feels it, too, when he brushes damp cotton.
His finger catches the edge of your underwear. He pulls the fabric to the side and you swallow a sigh.
You try to keep your eyes on the screen, even as Joel’s middle finger dips halfway inside you. The angle is awkward — you’re side-by-side on the grass, your legs parted under the blanket for him — but he’s surprisingly dexterous. He pretends to readjust again, moving imperceptibly nearer, and the added closeness lets him sink inside you to the knuckle.
You barely stifle your moan. It’s a good thing the movie is so fucking loud, you think, absently. It drowns the tiny noise you let slip.
But Joel hears it. He’s close enough; turned toward the screen but so finely tuned to you that he doesn’t miss a beat. He pauses with his finger hooked inside you. You’re so desperate for him to move that you abandon all shame and lift your hips off the grass, rutting against the heel of his palm. The blanket hikes half an inch and exposes a sliver of skin.
He’ll tell you off, now. You’re sure of it. Some twisted part of you almost hopes that he does.
But — as it turns out — he doesn’t have to. Alicia Simmons does that for him. She gives a dramatic sigh and yawns, fading into Joel’s shoulder. Oldest trick in the book. If you were any less preoccupied you might think to roll your eyes. Instead you just hiss; a low, annoyed sound, mingled heavy with arousal as Joel crooks his finger just right.
He sits up a little straighter. This time it’s not so subtle, the way he rolls Alicia off his shoulder. The way his palm bumps your swollen, aching clit.
He tilts his head toward you. Whispers in your ear, soft and rough and fleeting as his fingers find that spongy spot inside you and drag out a gasp.
“Don’t tell me you’re jealous,” he growls.
It takes everything in you not to turn and look at him. To not tear the blanket off of your lap and rip his hand away. Teach him a lesson for being so cocky. Or — who are you kidding — to not just grab his wrist and fuck yourself on his fingers til you scream.
“Don’t,” he warns, like he can read your mind. His breath rasps along your ear. “You’ll make a fuckin’ scene.”
You’re so stubborn, usually. It’s hard to believe that it’s Joel, of all people, who finally gets you to behave. The Joel who used to pay you to babysit his daughter. The Joel who taught you to drive stick. The Joel who’s got his hand up your dress, right now, fucking into you with two soaked, lazy fingers.
It’s filthy. It’s wrong. He’s got another woman hanging by his shoulder while his wrist pumps between your legs. Your dad is four rows back on the grass, probably watching the back of your head as it tips in muted pleasure. And Joel — fucking Joel — is still watching the screen with that perfect, immovable stare.
Your muscles clench around his knuckles. Heat pools white-hot in the pit of your stomach. You start to rock into his palm again, more desperately this time, seeking any sort of added friction.
You look at him, quickly. You catch a glimpse of his profile, cast in the glow of the screen. The flinch in his jaw when you squirm on his hand is the only indication he’s remotely affected.
He leans into your space again. Puts his lips to your ear. To anyone watching you’re sure the movement looks innocent — a quiet question, maybe.
And his voice is quiet, when it scrapes your neck. But it’s not a question.
“You’re gonna cum for me," he mutters. He flexes his wrist, and you bite your lip to keep from screaming. “And you ain’t gonna make a fuckin’ sound.”
He crooks his finger. A whimper catches in your throat.
“Nod if you understand.”
You nod. Your breath pulls.
He leans back. Re-settles in his spot. His gaze returns to the screen, and you’d swear E.T. had his full attention, if it wasn’t for the heel of his palm grinding into your clit.
You’ve never been very good at keeping your mouth shut. It’s not a trait that’s serving your particularly well, right now. The heat in your core threatens to spill over with each hollow thrust of his fingers.
You drag the edge of the blanket up to your mouth and bite down on fuzzy fabric. He catches you in the corner of his eye and his hand moves faster, working you up and over the edge.
It takes everything in you not to rip the blanket out of your mouth and whine his name until your voice breaks. But there are people — so many people — your dad, and Sarah, and Alicia at his shoulder. So you keep quiet.
He only pulls his hand away when your muscles go slack. The scrap of blanket falls from your teeth. He adjusts himself — conspicuously, you think — and your cheeks blaze.
You don’t hear a single word of the movie after that. You don’t even pretend to watch it. You watch him, instead — staring shamelessly at his jaw, at the denim that peeks from the blanket, at the still-slick hand that splays beside you in the grass.
Fuck.
You scoot closer to him. Make sure no one’s looking before sliding your hand under the blanket and into his lap.
He stiffens immediately at the contact. But he still — still — doesn’t look away from the screen. Alicia leans in to tell him something — nothing related to the movie, you’re sure — and cups her hand around his ear.
It spurs you on. It shouldn’t, but it does. You move your hand up his thigh and lay your palm on the bulge in his jeans.
He flinches. It’s maybe the first thing all night that he hasn’t controlled. You hear him start to respond to her, and then his voice catches and he clears his throat.
That makes you bolder. You drag your hand over the outline of his cock and feel him strain into your touch. He lets you go until it’s too much, apparently — and then his hand slips under the blanket to stop yours.
His grip bites. He holds your hand in place, palm pressed to the swell of his cock. There’s some big scene onscreen — shouting, strobing lights — and he takes the opportunity to hiss in your ear.
“What are you doin’, darlin’?”
His gaze flicks from the screen, just long enough to look at you. Long enough for you to read his lips when he drops his voice and adds, almost inaudible —
“Don’t start somethin’ you can’t finish.”
You wouldn’t dream of it. But the universe has other plans, it seems, because as soon as he speaks it starts to rain.
Pour is probably a better word. That cloud your dad had pointed out earlier seems to have finally made its way over. With a vengeance. Thunder rolls across the yard, drowning the surround-sound. Water lashes at the screen.
There’s confused chaos as twenty-something neighbors rush to stand. Alicia leaps up, abandoning her post at Joel’s shoulder, and starts to usher people inside.
It takes longer for Joel to stand than anyone else. He sits there in the grass, getting soaked to the bone, and you can guess the reason for the holdup when you see him trying to adjust his jeans under the blanket.
You hide your grin. You wait for him in the dry confines of the doorway as he stands, scowling, and crosses the yard. He’s drenched by the time he makes it to you.
He takes two steps inside and shakes his head like a dog. Water sloughs off his collar and sprinkles the hardwood. Your dad clocks the two of you by the door and wanders over, laughing a little at Joel’s bad luck.
“Christ,” he says. “You take the scenic route gettin’ inside?”
Joel’s scowl deepens.
“Alicia’s settin’ us back up in the den,” your dad continues. “Gonna keep the party goin’. Nothin’ stops that woman.”
“Got that right,” you mutter.
Joel’s gaze snaps to you. You feel the warning on your neck. But your dad is oblivious, as always. You’re not even sure he hears you.
“Go dry off and meet us in the livin’ room, he says, still chuckling. He shakes his head. “Jesus.”
And then, mercifully — he leaves you both. You watch him walk down the hall, into the living room, and the rest of your neighbors trickle in after him.
No one seems to notice that you and Joel haven’t joined them. That the two of you are still standing by the doorway, even as the last neighbor disappears into the den.
The second you’re alone — the second no one’s eyes are on you — Joel grabs your wrist. Hard. You yelp, stumbling over your feet as he drags you toward a set of stairs. The opposite direction of the living room. And decidedly off-limits, you’d think.
“Joel—” you wriggle in his grip. He’s stronger. “St — what — where are we going?”
He hauls you up the stairs, two at a time. Water drags off the hem of his flannel.
“Dryin’ off,” he says, simply. “Gotta get a towel.”
“Is that a—” he yanks you up, onto the landing, and tugs you down a muted hallway, “—a two person job?”
He stops dead in his tracks at the end of the hall, in front of a door. And then he looks at you, eyes blazing, and your stomach seizes. He looks hungry. Starved. His stare roves over you, black as coal, searing your skin.
“Get inside.”
“Um.” You look at him. Then the door. You’ve overshot the bathroom by at least a few paces — that door is half-open, a ways back down the hall. “Don’t think this is where the towels are.”
“Pit stop.” He leans his shoulder into the door and it gives, sneaking open. He pulls you inside and now you go willingly, practically stumbling over his feet. His hands are all over you the minute you’re inside — your hips, your hair, the hem of your dress. He nips at your neck and his voice soothes the mark, low and rough and breathless. “Gonna fuck you first.”
You don’t bother hiding the noise you make. You’re too far gone. He hasn’t even fucked you yet, not properly, and you’re already wrecked. He knows it, too. It’s why he looks so fucking smug, when his smile curves up the column of your throat.
Your hands go to his shoulders. To the damp flannel on his skin. You tug him closer and your back thumps the door.
“Joel,” you whimper. “Kiss me.”
He ignores you. His mouth drops, to the curve between your neck and shoulder, and his teeth sink into your skin.
You whine. Your nails dig into his shirt.
“Turn around,” he growls.
He’s not gonna kiss you. Not if you beg him, not if you ask nicely. The thought runs laps around your brain; makes your mind short-circuit as his hands find your waist and twist you around so you’re facing the door.
He’s punishing you. For teasing him on the grass. For getting him drenched.
The realization makes you weak. You feel him behind you: the ragged rise-fall of his chest at your back, and you bring both palms up to brace against the door.
There’s the rustle of leather behind you. A soft tink as he works his buckle undone. The sharp bite of metal when he drags his zipper down. He crowds the space at your back, hips pressed to your ass, and shoves your dress up and out of his way.
He doesn’t bother dragging your underwear down. He nudges them to the side — for the second time tonight — and his finger catches on your clit.
You gasp. Your hips roll into his.
He moves his hand back. The blunt head of his cock replaces his finger, nudging at your entrance.
“Fuck,” you breathe.
Your fingers flex on the door. You try to push your hips back, into him — try to push him inside you — but he stays stubbornly still. Holds you in place with that teasing, iron grip.
“Joel,” you moan. “P-fuck. Please.”
“You’re cute when you’re jealous,” he murmurs. He rocks forward. Drags his cock up your slit, gathering slick.
“Not — ngh — jealous.”
“No?” His voice is low. Teasing. His accent rolls heavy off his tongue and drips to your skin. “Not even a little bit? Didn’t piss you off, seein’ some other woman on me?”
“No,” you grit. He rolls his hips, cock hitting your clit, and you whine.
He leans forward. His chest folds against your back, big and firm and broad. He gathers your hair in his fist and tugs.
“Think you’re lyin’,” he says, softly. “Think it drove you crazy, pretty girl.”
Your stomach flutters. Your muscles clench around nothing.
“Think that’s why you let me touch you, front’a all those people,” he continues, and you want to smack him, kiss him, whatever it takes for him to shut up and fuck you. You squirm against his cock and he leans even closer. His stubble kisses your neck.
It’s then — only then, in a split-second of marked clarity — that you realize where you are. Where he’s taken you. Your tunnel-vision expands long enough for you to clock the bed in your peripheral. The silver-framed photo of Alicia Simmons and her sad ex-husband, sitting on a lacquered nightstand. He could have pulled you into any bathroom. Or an empty guest room off the hall. But he’s dragged you through the last door — into the master bedroom — into her bedroom.
“Wanted some fuckin’ attention,” he growls. “’S why you’re gonna let me fuck you in here—
The head of his cock pushes into you; just barely, and you stifle a scream. He’s stretching you already, just the tip, and you squeeze the hell out of him as he notches inside you.
“—next to her fuckin’ bed.”
He thrusts into you. All of him; all at once. His hips slam into your ass and you cry out, slumping into the door as he splits you in two.
Your eyes sting. He’s so big it’s almost — almost — painful.
“Fuck,” you yelp. “Joel—”
His name comes out broken.
He doesn’t move. He’s desperately patient; gauging your breaths and the sound of your pleas. He lets you get used to him, adjusting to his size until the burn mellows out and the stretch starts to sweeten.
“You’re okay, baby.” That voice, honeyed whiskey and sex. Dark and silk-smooth. “Relax.”
“Please,” you whimper. “I c—ah—I can take it.”
“I know you can, angel.” Still waiting, patient, as you settle around him. “You’re doin’ good, pretty girl. Takin’ it so well.”
Your head spins at his praise. Your muscles clamp around his cock as he pulls out halfway, soaked in your slick, and thrusts into you again.
“F-uck,” you groan. “Oh my — god.”
You lose track of yourself after that. He finds a regular rhythm once he knows you can take it; not rough, not yet, but a far cry from gentle. He couldn’t be bothered to take his pants off — just shoved his jeans and his boxers past his hips — and denim scrapes the backs of your thighs.
You don’t mind. You can barely feel it. You’re too focused on him; the way he feels splitting you open, thick and hot and buried in your cunt.
You must be making a lot of noise. Too much, maybe, considering he’s pounding you right now in your hostess’ bedroom, while the whole fucking neighborhood gathers downstairs. But it’s impossible to stay quiet, when he’s fucking you like this. When he sets a new, punishing pace and hits a spot that makes you scream.
He takes care of it. Of you. He doesn’t cover your mouth with his hand — too busy grabbing you by the waist, keeping you steady as he fucks into you.
No. He reaches for his belt, instead, looped unbuckled through his jeans. He tugs it free and holds it out, between you and the door, until the leather hangs level with your mouth.
You don’t understand what he wants, at first. But then his hips roll into yours, and you cry out, and he shoves the belt between your teeth.
You bite down instinctively. The sound muffles in the leather. He drops his hand — satisfied — and returns it to your waist.
“’S right,” he mutters. “Good girl.”
He loops an arm around your front, forearm braced against your tummy. His fingers dip to rub your clit while he fucks you from behind.
You jerk at the touch, but there’s nowhere to go. You’re wrapped up in him. Wedged between his chest and his arm, speared on his cock as you palm the door.
He’s right. You were jealous. You were jealous of that woman on his arm, touching him, laughing into his ear. Of her fingers on his hand and her head on his shoulder.
And he’s right, too, that you wanted his attention. That you practically begged him — in soft, unspoken terms — to slip his fingers in between your legs. The same silent way you’re begging him now, with words smothered into his belt.
This shouldn’t turn you on. You’re in some other woman’s room, your palms pressed to her door so hard you’ll leave prints. Her clothes are on the bed, her lipstick on the nightstand — that same garish shade she’d worn tonight, when she’d put her lips to Joel’s ear.
It’s twisted. It’s — beyond fucked. But, then — so are you.
Joel gives a rough thrust and you moan into his belt. Your teeth sink in the leather. Heat builds in your core, white-hot and electric, and threatens to snap when he works on your clit.
You try to tell him you’re going to cum. You can’t get the words out, between his belt, and the fact he’s fucking you so hard it punches your breath.
You manage a moan, or something close to it, muffled and desperate as your head starts to fog.
He gets it. He keeps his pace while you fall apart, fucking you through it, praising you with that velvet drawl.
“’S’good, baby,” he breathes. “Such a good girl. Knew you’d take this cock.”
Your mind goes blissfully blank when you cum. Your teeth clamp around the belt and your tongue tastes leather.
He groans, hips flexing when you squeeze around his cock.
“Fuck,” he mumbles. His thrusts are frantic. Less controlled. He pulls out, panting, and stumbles back in. “Fuck, baby. S—ngh—so goddamn tight for me.”
You’re too fucked to respond. You moan weakly, trying to meet his hips as he pushes into you. Your whole head is heavy. You’re not sure you’d still be standing if Joel wasn’t currently nailing you into the door.
He reaches up and tears the belt from your mouth. It falls to your feet with a clink.
You can’t stay quiet without it. But he’s past caring, or he’s so caught up chasing his high he doesn’t give a shit about the neighbors anymore. He wants to hear you.
His movements are rough. Erratic. His hand moves between your legs, stroking your clit, and you’re so sensitive — too sensitive, almost — but he’s so fucking good at this you don’t think to ask him to stop. Heat pools in your core again, tugging at your stomach.
He’s gonna make you cum again. A second time, in almost as many minutes.
“J-Joel,” you whimper, “gonna—ah—I c-can’t—”
“Yes you can,” he grunts. His hand fists in your hair and he moves it to the side ,exposing your neck. His mouth bends to rake your skin. “One more, baby.”
“Fuck, fuck—”
“You’re alright,” he coos. “Easy, angel. Slow. Let go.”
He drags it out of you. You moan into the door, pushing back against him as your muscles choke his cock. You hear him swear into your skin when you cum.
He drags his hand from your clit and puts it back on your waist, holding you steady as your body sags. And then he rocks his hips up, into you — starts to fuck you harder, faster, as his own release nears.
“Joel,” you whine.
He’s gone noticeably silent behind you. The only sounds he can manage are heavy breaths and tight, muffled grunts.
He’s close.
“Cum inside,” you mumble, breathless. “I’m—fuck—‘m on the pill, it’s fine, I’m—”
His cock nudges at your g-spot. You lose your focus and your eyes roll back.
“Y’know I can’t do that, sweetheart.” He sounds pained. “Too risky.”
If you were any more cogent you’d say something snarky — and fucking me in the neighbor’s room isn’t? — but you’re done for. He’s ruined you. So you just make a sound — a disappointed mewl — and cry out softly when he pulls out of you.
He doesn’t let you turn around. One hand stays on your hip, holding you still while the other wraps around his cock. You can hear the slick slide of his fist as he jacks off behind you. He gives a low, broken moan and your stomach clenches, gasping when he yanks up your dress and spills across the small of your back.
“Fuck,” he mutters. His hand slips from your hip. You use the newfound freedom to turn and face him, straightening up and letting his cum leak to your thighs. “You—fuck.”
He pulls you close on an impulse. His hand comes up to grab your jaw and he kisses you, catching your sigh with his mouth.
He leans back with a quiet groan. His forehead brushes yours.
“Gonna ruin me,” he says, quietly. It’s almost…affectionate.
Your heart flickers.
He looks at you a second longer — dark eyes searching yours, searching for something , and then he reaches around you, for the door handle, and slips out before you can protest.
He’s back a minute later, two towels in hand. One for him, to soak up whatever rain remains in his flannel — and a smaller, softer cloth for you.
You reach your hand out for it — I’ll take that — but he doesn’t give it up. He bends slowly, sinking to his knees, and drags the cloth between your legs.
You put a hand in his hair to steady yourself. Spread your legs a little as he moves the cloth up your thigh. Something about this — about Joel Miller on his knees, hair tousled, staring up at you while he cleans his own mess —
You could probably cum again, if he’d touch you.
But he doesn’t. He’s excruciatingly gentle, cleaning every drop of himself from your legs. When he’s done he just stands, and kisses your forehead, and leads you out of the room with his hand on your back. Down the hall, and back down the stairs, and into the den to re-join the party.
You slip in just in time for closing credits. You find individual spots on separate ends of the room, perched on the edge of two couches. By the time Alicia hits the lights, there’s nothing to suggest you’d even left.
Except for the picture-perfect imprint of your teeth on his belt, when he stands to shake your dad’s hand goodbye.
bittersweet cherries I e.m CHAPTER 8
previous chapter
couple: eddie munson x aurora henderson (OC)
word count: 1.3k
summary: cute memory of dustin, eddie, and aurora. hellfire meeting and more people seeing her since returning
a/n: a short chapter again lol, sorry! i am thinking of doing a couple bigger scenes I want to try and stretch into multiple (at least two) chapters.
_________
“But mom, I promised Eddie I would come over after school.” You whined into the phone. Toying with the coiled cord trying to ignore what your mom was telling you.
“Aurora, I am not telling you again. I need you to watch your brother after school today. No exceptions” Her voice stern enough to realize she wasn’t going to let up.
“Mom.”
“Aurora.”
“Not funny, mom. Please, I wanna go to Eddie’s today.” Begging seemed like the only way you could possibly get out of this. “Dustin can ride back home by himself. He does it all the time and he is always fine.”
“Aurora, watch your brother after school today or you won’t be allowed to go to Eddie’s for the unforeseen future.”
“What the fu- fine. I will watch him.” You slammed the phone into the receiver of the pay phone, almost snapping it in half with anger. Letting out an exasperated sigh you slung your heavy backpack on and trudged over to the elementary school to go pick up your very annoying brother.
______
“Hey, Rory! Oh, hello?” Eddie’s face through the screen door distorted once he saw your younger brother's figure pop out from behind you.
“Sorry, Ed’s. I got stuck watching him today. Is it okay?” Your face probably flushed with embarrassment for springing this on the guy. You were a little worried he would say no since he’s never met Dustin before and you have been the only person to come over before. But that gave you some trust.
“Yeah, com’on in little dude.” He greeted your brother warmly, pushing the screen out so you two could walk in. Dustin came around your side and walked into the trailer. Key chains rattling on the side of his backpack as he entered.
“Welcome to Castel Munson.”
Eddie showed Dustin where he could drop his stuff off as you did it out of a force of habit. Shoes cluttered the base of a coat rack where miscellaneous coats and jackets hung, currently out of use with the spring weather. Eddie’s (then) brand new denim vest hung on the post closest to the door right next to your denim jacket that you left here last time.
“Can we play a game? Or watch a movie, please?” Dustin asked while swinging his arms around as he explores the small trailer.
“Dustin, don’t be a pain- it’s alright, Ror.” Eddie walked past you and softly squeezed your arm. You just sighed again and went to grab your notebook so you could get your homework done.
“Do you know what Dungeon and Dragons is?” Eddie asked curiously. You could see Darin trying to figure out if he did by his facial expression being all scrunched up.
“I do not as a matter of fact.”
“Then I’m gonna teach you because it is the best game in the whole damn world. Com’on you got a lot of learn’ to do.” Eddie and Dustin went straight back into his room gathering Eddie’s containers of dnd characters, piles of notebooks with rules and explanations.
The pair crashed down on the floor of the living room and covered the floor in materials. All afternoon, as you did your homework and later made some snacks for the crazy boys, Eddie taught Dustin everything he needed to know about D&D, helped him create his first character and show him some special tricks.
Even though you complain the whole walk over to Eddie’s on having to bring Dustin with you, you were so excited that they were getting along.
Dustin begged you for a while after that to tag along with you whenever you went over to Eddie’s.
——————-
The second you pushed the double doors open Eddie felt like he was back in high school with you. Your hair is pulled up into a very messy bun, your own curls springing out in some places and framing your face. A cherry coke bottle was held in your hand along with a plastic bag most likely filled with some snack you bought for everyone.
It is just like how it was throughout high school. Eddie would stay afterschool to hold Hellfire meetings and you’d be heading to your shift at the bookstore. Eddie would beg you to blow off work and come watch the game even if he knew you’d stop by after work because you always did.
Every Monday and Thursday when Eddie and his gang held meetings at school you'd walk all the way back to the old building after your shift. Stopping at the gas station between the two locations to pick up snacks, a carton of smokes if you knew Eddie was getting low, and always, a cherry coke.
Cherry coke was apart of your signature on top of your vanilla and cherry perfume, red chuck taylors and red chipped nail polish you always had on your nails.
“I am glad to see you are all alive and well.” Letting out a chuckle as you see everyone’s face react to your presence.
“Aurora!! Oh my gosh.” Erica almost fell out of her seat trying to get to you. Lucas and Jeff followed suit walking over with Gareth, Mike and Will trailing behind.
One giant bear hug commenced as they all tried to hug you at once.
“Guys, it’s getting hard to breathe.” Short apologies all spilled from their mouths as they back away slightly.
“I cannot believe you are here right now. What the hell, man!” Jeff and Gareth stunned more than you’d ever seen them.
“Dude, it’s only been a couple of days. I still cannot believe it.” Your face naturally turned to a smile as you looked over your friends. As you spotted Eddie frizz behind Mike's head you quickly swerved around everyone and headed towards him.
“Hey, princess.” He opened his arms for you to gladly accept a hug.
“Hey, yourself, dungeon master.”
Which started some comments on how Eddie knew you were back and didn’t tell. Leading Lucas and Erica to get very offended that Mike had seen you before too. And it just kept going from there, constant chatting and sharing the snack you bought.
Eventually everyone started to settle down again and finished up the last bit of today's campaign. You joined in to observe next to Eddie on the old directors chair you were shocked to see still in one whole piece.
“Had to keep your seat available for ya,” Eddie whispered as you pulled it next to his throne. “knew you’d always come back.” Shooting you a wink before turning his attention back to the game.
“Thank you, handsome.” You comfy in your chair knowing it might take a while for when to wrap up.
Being back in Hawkins is still unreal for you. It took you a lot longer than your originally thought to get yourself back together and come back home. Which of course, made you even more worried about Eddie.
You left with no notice. A small note tacked on the cork board in the kitchen was how you told your mom and Dustin you had left. The cab had already dropped you off at the bus station by the time they realized you were gone. Leaving with a reason is ten times better than leaving without a reason. Which technically you did have one but you just didn’t share it with anyone. But soon, you’d have to confess to Eddie what happened and why you left.
Being back for the few days you were, having seen a few of your friends and seeing Eddie for the first time in a year made you realize that this is where you meant to be.
Here in Hawkins.
Here with Eddie.
Here surrounded by all your friends.
Hawkins was your home.
You leaned onto Eddie’s shoulder. Letting yourself relax into his warmth radiating from his body. He was a wonderful thing during the winter but very unfortunate in the summer. For him at least. You always got to see all his tattoos on display from him not wearing a shirt.
“I missed this.”
bittersweet cherries I e.m CHAPTER 7
previous chapter
couple: eddie munson x aurora henderson (OC)
word count: 1k
summary: eddie and rory are caught sorta by dustin, hellfire meeting and a sweet phone call
a/n: a short chapter, sorry!
_________
Bright and early on Saturday morning, Dustin was eating cereal in the kitchen, waiting for Eddie to pick him up. All the members of Hellfire agreed to meet up early in the morning to allow as much time as needed for the campaign's ending. It had been going on for two months, and everyone was on the edge of life in the game.
“Dusty-bun, you sure you don’t want something else to eat?”
“I’m all good, mom.” He reassured her once again. He left the now-empty bowl in the sink and returned to his room to ensure everything he needed was packed in his backpack. His own set of dice, just in case, a variety of snacks, and some drinks. Tossing in a few quarters in one of the pockets.
“Where is he?!” Checking his watch and seeing that it was almost nine o’clock worried him because that was when everyone was supposed to meet at the school.
“Hey, Rory, have you heard from- Oh!” Dustin opened the door, cutting himself off when he found the two of you. Eddie and your bodies tangled on your bed, both fast asleep. “Well, that explains it.”
“Explains what, Dustin?” Your mother questioned.
“Eddie’s not late picking me up. In fact he was hours early.” Your mom rounded the corner of the hallway to try and see into your room which Dustin had the foot half open too.
“Oh, well then. I guess I didn’t have to invite him over later. Is this why you guys took so long last at Family Video, you saw Eddie?”
“Sorry. It was a heat of the moment and she decided she couldn’t wait any longer to see him.” She accepted that answer and walked back into the kitchen. Smiling to herself because she knew you’d be happier with Eddie back in your life.
Dustin looked around your room to try to find something. His eyes locked on one of your old teddy bears sitting on the floor next to your dresser. He picked it up and threw it at you.
“What the fuck was that?!” Eddies groggy voice broke through the silence in the room. His body shifted a bit and woke you from sleep.
Another bear bonked your head after you heard Dustin speak up. “It’s almost nine, Eddie. We are late.” He sounded kinda pissed.
“Oh, shit.” You said in unison.
Eddie untangles his legs from yours and shuffles off the bed, grabbing his jacket from the floor and rushing out the door with Dustin leading the way. “Meet us when we’re done?”
“Call me when you guys go for break, and I’ll head over.” Making a deal with him. Eddie shot you a wink and left. You fell back on your bed, still feeling the warmth on the sheets from Eddie's body and warmth rising on your cheeks.
________
“Sorry, we’re late children. Nice of you to set up for us.” Eddie thanks them as he walked over to his throne, dusting it off a bit before sitting.
“Why were you late? You never are.” Gareth questioned. And he was right. Eddie was never late to a Hellfire meeting ever. Always setting up for everyone, making sure all the pieces were place in the right spot.
“I over slept, that’s all.” Lying through his teeth. But Eddie wasn’t sure what to say honestly. You barely gathered enough courage in your self to go see him and it would be reasonable thst Eddie might wanna keep you to himself for a bit. Having time alone with you after a whole year apart from each other.
“I believe that but I don’t believe you being late to Hellfire for that reason, dude” Mike chimed.
“Can we just start playin’? I need to kick Dustin’s ass today.” Dustin rolled his eyes at Eddie’s comment while everyone took their respective seats and got the game started.
“Lady Applejack, would you be willing to join me in battle?” Dustin asked hopefully.
“No, sir. I fight battles all by myself, without help. You should try to as well.” Erica claimed shooting Dustin with some attitude.
The game carried on for a couple of hours before they decided to take a much needed break. Gareths now dead, Eddie’s severely wounded from a very surprising double-point attack on him from Dustin who hadn’t stopped gloating since.
“I’ll be right back, guys.” Eddie excused himself and walked into the hallway towards the exit.
Rummaging through his pockets for a quarter until he finds one and pops it into the slot. His fingers move with muscle memory, his whole body does honestly. Calling you during breaks to check in on you or see what you were up to. He really just wanted to hear your voice for a little bit, but would never admit that.
“Hello?”
“Hi, princess.” His voice was a little shaky from adrenaline.
“Hey, Eds. How is the campaign goin’? You best my brothers ass yet?” A soft laugh was heard over the reciver.
“I swear that kid is up to no good today, Ror. He got a double-point attack and near killed me.”
“Lemme guess, still gloating?”
“Of course. Little shit is never gonna let me live after this.”
“What else is new? I’m pissed at him for still throwing a bear at us this morning.” Which is when Eddie remembers last night.
After climbing through the window of your room, being too desperate to wait to see you until the next day, you guys had fallen asleep.
Well, you had fallen asleep first. The familiar feeling of Eddie’s arms around your wait, the faint smell of cigarettes and the warmth of the embrace cradled you to sleep almost too fast. Your body reacting to the sleeping conditions you had gotten accustomed to over the years sleeping with Eddie.
“I’m adding it to the list. But I wanted to call and let you know we should be wrapping up soon after break. If you wanna come by, that is.” Nerves suddenly getting to him.
“I’ll be there in 15 so I can watch the ending.”
“See you soon, Ror.”
someone make more bella ramsey fics and tag me in them🫶
Please please please criminal minds writers!!! This would be so great!
i really need a 30+ chapter series on bau!reader realizing that her life is getting out of hand (trauma, whatever) and needing a dom to help her ease her worries. not realizing that hotch IS in that lifestyle and also looking for a sub. they agree (with a signed contract and everything) and he does things like:
helps her remember to eat when she's too overwhelmed
helps her remember to take her meds
tells her to text him when she goes to bed because she's always staying up too late
ect.
and at first it starts off as a non-sexual dom/sub relationship until it morphs into something more and they wind up falling for each other :')
SOMEONE PLEASE I BEG YOU WRITE THIS.
i loooove being delusional. catch me ignoring reality altogether. catch me never being reasonable ever. catch me straight up making up things in my head to cope. delusion is my best friend
tumblr is for the romantics, the artists, the sluts, and the weirdos. i’m all the above lol love it here
“I bought the book you were talking about” is a love language
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*under construction*
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eddie munson I masterlist
bittersweet cherries
- intro
- chapter one
- chapter two
- chapter three
- chapter four
- chapter five
- chapter six
- chapter seven
- chapter eight
- chapter nine
- chapter ten
- chapter 11
quickwrites
bittersweet cherries I e.m CHAPTER 6
previous chapter
couple: eddie munson x aurora henderson (oc)
word count: 1.2k
summary: more memories of eddie and rory lol I love writing them, Eddie visits Auroa at home, fall asleep together
a/n: sorry this chapter took me so long to upload. I had it done last night but I decided it was too short and made the flash back a bit longer. I hope yall enjoy!
_________
The rain beat down on the metal roof of Eddie’s trailer as you sat on his bed. Schools, books, and notebooks surrounded you all over, and your hair was just as scattered as your mind. Midterms were your biggest fear because you hated taking exams. The pressure, the time limit- it added to your anxiety.
Eddie asked you to come over to hang out with him, chill, and watch a movie. But when you showed up, he saw the scared look on your face and just let you be. He moved off the bed, giving you all the space he could to let you study. He didn’t care; he just wanted you there with him.
“Babe, you look like you are summoning a god.” He was on the floor with his metal lunch pail and his stash bin open, rolling joints and organizing his ounces for his sales. His hair was half up in a bun, showing off the spare cigarette behind his ear.
You didn’t respond to his comment.
“Babe, look at me.”
“Huh?” Your eyes scanned the physics textbook in your lap as you tried to write notes simultaneously.
Eddies hand came up, waving in front of your face. “Take a break, Ror. You’re driving yourself crazy.”
“I cannot take a break. Midterms this year are harder, and I will fail.” Your voice sounded strained from how much you studied your flash cards the night before.
“Com’ere. Come on!” He patted the spot next to him. You crawled off the bed carefully to make sure no books fell off. You quickly situated yourself against the foot of the bed, leaning into his body.
“You’re gonna do amazing on your exams, and you know so, silly. You don’t have to drive yourself crazy every time.” Consoling you was one of Eddie’s best talents. “You are beautiful, you’re smart and ready for the test. You’re gonna do amazing.”
You sighed on his shoulder, feelings some pressure lift off your own.
“Thanks, Eds.” He kissed the bit of forehead that wasn’t covered by your hair.
“Anytime, gorgeous. Now go back to your books. I can feel you worrying.” He joked. You let out a small laugh and returned back to your spot on his bed.
Eventually, he finished up and joined you on the bed. Moved some books around, so he could sit behind you against the headboard, you in between his legs. He read the severely beat-up copy of Lord of the Rings he had and lit a cigarette. Occasionally passing it between the two of you.
The rain continued to come down throughout the rest of the evening, and you never stopped studying. Slowly, Eddie felt your body fall back into him, curling up against his chest. He removed the pen from your hair and moved the books over the side of the bed, pulling up the blanket onto you. You and Eddie both soon fell into a deep sleep in his bed, the warmth from his body keeping the both of your cozy under the blanket.
________
You couldn't fall asleep that night because all you thought about was Eddie. You finally saw him, and it made you miss him more. Now that you had gotten a taste, you wanted to go back for more. Time away made you miss him more than your thought was possible. His scent, the taste of his lips, and the feeling of his hands on your shoulders were overwhelming.
You and Eddie were permanently attached to each other. The two of you were a pair and were always associated together, especially during middle school. When Eddie first asked you out, you thought he was joking and not being serious because you didn't believe he actually liked you. You guys had been friends forever. It seemed like that's all you would be, even though you forever harbored a giant crush on him. You took him up on the date; afterward, you were never seen without him during your free time.
The second you got a break from work, you’d bike over to Gareth's house, where band practice was taking place, or to his trailer just to hang out with him as he rolled for that week's sales. Eddie loved the company, and you were just happy to be around him. More often than Eddie would admit, he would end practice early so he could pick you up from work and occupy you for the rest of the day into the weekend. No one would see the two of you until school Monday morning.
*knock*
*knock knock*
*knock-knock knock knock*
And that was how you knew he was at your window. You turned and saw the shadow of his frizzy hair against the window and curtains in front.
“What are you doing here, Eds?” You said and lifted the edge of the window, sitting in the chair next to it. “I was going to call you tomorrow. What’s wrong?”
“Bold of you to assume something is wrong, isn’t it?” He climbed through the window, landing on the carpet with a soft thud. All you did was give him a look.
“Okay, so maybe I started missing you again the second you left the trailer. And I really wanted to give you another hug, shoot me!” He threw his hands up in surrender.
“Eddie…”
“Just com’ere and let me hug you, please.” His voice was soft and sweet, which made it easier for you to go over and hit on his lap, allowing his arms to tangle with yours. Eddie was always confident about what he wanted with you. If he wanted to give you a kiss or wanted just to cuddle in his bed. He didn’t care if it made him soft. He was deeply, madly in love with you. And even though he didn’t like to be seen as a soft person since he’s all metal, he’s okay with it when it's you.
“Forgive me for being greedy, princess. It’s just your finally back, and we have a lot of time to make up for.” You hugged him tighter and felt him sigh. Some hairs on your shoulder tickled your neck.
“Believe me, I know.” You slowly rubbed your hand up and down his back which was covered by his usual jean vest + leather jacket combo. The feeling of the shirt he sewed on the back panel and the patches on the edge brought back many memories.
“New patches?”
“Yeah, Dustin and Mike found some in a store a few months ago and gave them to me.” He pulled back slightly to show another one to you. “I taught them how to sew them on.”
“That’s sweet. I’m surprised Dustin hasn't started curating his own vest.” You joked and tighten up the hug again. Feeling wrapped up in his arms puts you at ease.
Slowly, the two of you shifted in your spots, cuddling on your bed and lying down. Both bodies still facing each other, but now his one arm lays across your waist, keeping you locked in, and the other hand is lost in your hair. Shallow breaths and the soft breeze from your window filled the space between you as slumber took over.
bittersweet cherries I e.m CHAPTER 5
previous chapter
couple: eddie munson x aurora henderson (oc)
word count: 1.5k
summary: eddie and aurora talk a little bit for the first time. lots of memories bit on how they met. rushing back home and seeing steve* kinda.
a/n: i rushed the end a bit I'm sorry, but i just really wanted to get this chapter out.
________
Eddie hadn’t reacted for a few minutes, making you worry.
“Eddie….”
“Hold on.” He put his hands up, trying to figure out what was happening. “I-I don’t know what’s happening. How the fuck?” He started mumbling a bunch of different things. “Are you real?”
“Yes, I’m real. I am here, right now.” His arms and shoulders dropped to his sides, losing the tapes in his hands, and ran up to you. Luckily, you were able to stand up in time for his embrace.
“You're sure you are real?” He questioned.
“Yes, Eds,” You laughed a bit at him, “I’m real.” You felt his body sigh and relax against you while also grasping onto you tighter.
The second he hugged you, you were met with every memory you had with him. Unlike Dustin and the rest of his friends, you knew Eddie a lot longer. Since middle school, where you met him in detention. He was in for vandalizing the music room with paint while you had skipped class to read in the library. You argued with the principal that you didn't need detention, but they gave it to you anyways. You made friends with Eddie while in detention, shocking people whenever you told them or when they saw you guys hanging out. From that moment on, you and Eddie became best friends. Sometimes you purposely got yourself in trouble on the days you knew Eddie had detention so that you could hang out with him. He always slipped notes into your locker, letting you know how his day was going, including a really bad joke and if he had detention or not.
Once the two of you had reached High school, people started caring more about who you were friends with. Your friend group was a weird mixture of band nerds where you met Robin and Vicky, but you also became closer with Nancy and Barb simultaneously. Eddie got lost in between because of the reputation he started earning while in school. “The Freak,” as he was dubbed. But he didn’t care. He was happy doing what he wanted and still knew he had you as his best friend, no matter what school people said about him. Halfway through the sophomore year, you gave up trying to uphold your ‘status’ at school, which seemed like the most important thing ever to some people.
Nancy was starting to get together with Steve, and Barb had started distancing herself from both of you. You returned to where you knew you’d be comfortable, with Eddie. You joined hellfire, balanced it with the band, hung out with Robin a lot more, and felt normal again. Like how you felt back in middle school. Eddie, Robin, and you became a little trio that would often hang out after band practice in the music room. Eddie and his bandmates fooled around with instruments as you and Robin gossiped over snacks you guys got from the vending machines.
All the memories you had with Eddie over the years made you emotional. You missed his touch, his smell, his hair. Hell, you missed the trailer as a whole, reminding you of some of your favorite memories. You missed sleeping over at the trailer on the weekend, staying up to study. Or crashing here after you helped the band play a gig at the Hideout. Eddie chasing you around the trailer, both of you in pajamas during Christmas time, trying to figure out what you got him, but you would never let up. While you love your home, Eddies’ had become another home for you.
“You have no idea how much I missed you. God, I miss you so much, Ror.” His own spin on your nickname pulled at your heart and made the tears you had been able to push back before threatening to fall. He let go of you slightly, standing up more, but his arms never left your body. “I cannot believe you're here.”
While you still felt nervous, how Eddie reacted was helping with your anxiety. He wasn’t angry, as far as you could tell. Honestly, it seemed like he was going to get emotional.
The two of you settled on the couch sitting far away from each other. Now the air was uneasy. The initial shock was over, and now you guys actually had to talk. You didn’t know what to say or if you should say something.
“Um, Ed- Can I ask you something?” He cut you off.
“Yes.” Your hands were gettings sweaty. Either from nerves or the fact that you were starting to get hot sitting there.
“I love that your back, and I’m glad that you came back, it's just….” He confessed, “How long have you been back for? When did you come back?”
“I came back two days ago.”
“So, if you got here two days ago… You dropped off Henderson and Wheeler today. That was you, wasn’t it?” You could see the realization take place in his mind.
“Yeah, it was. Dustin tricked me into driving them. I was trying to avoid school or anywhere you might be.” Honesty was the only thing that was going to work for you. You felt a little shy as you explained yourself.
“Avoid me? Why?”
“I was afraid to see you because of how I left. I left abruptly and didn't talk to anyone while I was away. I figured you hated my guts by now, burned a picture of me with the butt of your cigarette or some shit.”
“Rory, why? I’m not mad at you. I don’t hate your guts, Ror. I could never hate you.” He moved closer to you, closing the giant gap between the two of you. “You know that, right?”
“Yeah, I know, but still. I left.”
He reached over to put his arm around me and pulled me closer. “Would you tell me why you left?”
You hadn’t explained why you left to anyone. Not even to Dustin or Nancy, or even your mother. When you initially left, no one could change your mind if they tried. Being headstrong was a disadvantage sometimes. But after being with your aunt for a while, you felt better and got your thoughts in order. Your fear of returning was the only thing that got worse over time. Making you put off your return longer.
“Eds…”
“C’mon, princess, you gotta tell me at some point.”
“At some point, I will. For now, let me just relish in the fact that I am here talking with you before I have a breakdown.” You snuggled further into him, and he fully wrapped his inked arms around you. You felt bad not telling him but were afraid it would start an argument. Overall, you were still a coward.
“I promise I will tell you. Soon.” All Eddie did was hum in response against your head.
You and Eddie sat there, cuddling up for a while. Just talking about random things as you mindlessly traced his tattoos. Something you missed doing. When Eddie first started getting them, he would let you trace over them while in bed. He used to take a pen and draw some on your arm so you guys would have matching ones. You might have been a bit more rebellious as a teenager, but your mother would kill you if you ever got a tattoo.
Knocking on the door startled the both of you. “RORY! EDDIE! Please let me in it's freezing in the car!”
“You didn’t leave him the keys? It's freezing when it rains!”
“I was freaking out internally, okay?!”
________
Eddie let Dustin inside, and we came over to sit with us on the couches. The three of you guys just watched some tv and chatted for a while. Just like when you used to babysit him with Eddie when he was younger. Eddie started teaching Dustin D&D whenever he made you write campaigns with him after school. You knew you had to go home at some point because Dustin had to be home, but you wanted to stay with Eddie forever.
“Rory, we should leave, right? Mom’s probably calling everyone, trying to find us.” He joked, but we both knew she would call everyone.
“Yeah, I guess we should.” You turned towards Eddie,” I’ll call you later, okay? Talk some more.” You gave him a smile, and he squeezed your hand tighter.
“Alright, I’ll talk to you then.”
“And I’ll be beating your ass tomorrow!” Dustin teased.
“Henderson, you better watch out!” The boys erupted into an argument which was moments away from a physical fight, but you pulled Dustin out of the trailer just in time. The two of you packed into the car, rushed to the corner store, grabbed some snacks, and prayed that Family Video was still open.
The rain started letting up as you drove, but it was still pretty heavy. As you pulled into the spot in front of Family Video, the car splashed into the pothole-turned-puddle. Dustin ran in, grabbed a random tape, and left quickly as you heard Steve yelling at him.
“I’ll bring it back along with the others I still have, Steve.” You said, startling Steve.
“Rory?!”
“Yeah, it’s me. I’ll bring them tomorrow, you working?”
“Every damn day.”
“I’ll see you then.” You signed off and sped back home. Hoping to make it back before your mother started a search party.
bittersweet cherries I e.m CHAPTER 4
previous chapter
couple: eddie munson x aurora henderson (oc)
word count: 930
summary: dustin and aurora go to eddies with a small plan on how to talk to him. aurora remembers some memories she shared with eddie
a/n: this was going to be a longer chapter but I think instead the next one might be really long :) sorry lol I hope yall enjoyed this one!
________
The drive to the trailer park wasn’t long, but it started to rain in that short time. The windshield wipers were working hard to keep your field of vision clear enough to drive without concern. Dustin was content in the passenger seat, letting you freak out over the weather.
The two of you had come up with a plan. Was it an amazing one? Not at all. But it was better to have something than show up on Eddie's doorstep with nothing. The plan was for Dustin to knock on Eddie’s door, get himself invited in, chat for a bit and ask if Eddie could get him something from his room. At that point, he would signal for you to come inside, and, hopefully, when Eddie returns from his room, you would be sitting in the living room alone.
“I’m scared, Dustin.”
“I know. It’s okay to be scared, but I don’t think anything bad will happen.” He tried to comfort you. “He misses you like crazy. The man chain smokes for hours after he sees a cherry coke can and wants to cry because he misses you. The man is still infatuated with you. Rory, you have nothing to worry about.”
You pulled the car in front of his trailer. Mud covered the car's wheels as the rain continued to beat down. “Okay, I’m going in!” He signed off and ran quickly to the door. The small metal covering barely protected him from the rain.
“Eddie! Eddie, it’s me! Dustin!” He pounded on the screen door. “Eddie!”
“Jesus, calm down, Henderson.” You heard him scream back at your brother. You saw him open the door a crack and let Dustin in. The car was hidden enough on the side of the trailer that he didn't see you. Probably assuming the kid rode here on his bike. From what you can tell, it looked like he just woke up from sleeping due to his clothing choices. But that was all you could see before the door shut.
________
Sitting in the car waiting for Dustin to pop his head into the bay window was nerve-wracking. All of a sudden, every emotion hit you like a bus. You tried hard to hold the tears back, not wanting to cry even more. Along with the emotions, memories came back to you as well.
All the time, you and Eddie had gotten caught in the rain while smoking in the woods during school. You guys ended up skipping the rest of the day a few times or would show up back to class, both completely soaked. Or the times you guys ‘borrowed’ tapes from Family Video, annoying Keith because he knew it would take weeks for you guys to return them. Later, you’d trade him some weed for tapes when he refused to let you borrow them. Eddie didn’t want to waste his stash, but he had promised you that you guys could watch Mommie Dearest.
Eddie convinced you one time to dance in the rain when you guys were younger. That was the moment you thought you fell in love with him. His frizzy curls flattened and his bangs stuck to his forehead as he swayed with you in the rain. Your curls turned straight in the rain, and you can still remember his hand gently running through your hair and leaning in to kiss you.
Trying to push back all the emotions you were feeling, you turned your focus back on the bay window. The back of Dustin's head was visible from sitting on the couch underneath the window, but you needed to see his face to go in. A few minutes passed, and then you saw him. Dustin's head was turned to face you and gave you a silly look.
You exited the car and ran up the door, trying to beat out the rain. Dustin opened the door, gave you a quick thumbs up, and headed to the car. Walking over the couch, you observed the rest of the trailer. Not much had changed. Wayne had gotten a few more mugs and maybe a hat or two in his collection. Pictures of Eddie as a little kid were still taped to the fridge, much to his dislike. A small vase full of flowers sat on the table. They looked a few days old and were just starting to wilt.
Out of the whole house, you could see the flowers were the only thing out of place. Wayne and Eddie tried to limit the number of things you needed to take care of in the trailer since they weren’t there or asleep most of the time.
“Henderson, did you want both the tapes? I have Sabbaths Sabotage and also Vol. 4. Personally, I reco-” He froze.
He wasn't even fully in the living room. Standing before the threshold between the kitchen and the room. He looked pale and tired. His hair was messy from sleep, and his eyes were heavy with bags under them. His shirt was faded, but you could roughly make out the words ‘heaven’ and ‘hell’ on the front of it. His boxers peeked out from his sweatpants. Even though he was standing far away from you, the smell of cigarettes and the cologne he used were strong. The smell brought you back and made you feel at ease.
“Hi.” Your voice was quiet and small. Exactly how you felt. “Uh, Dustin, let me in. I hope that was okay?”
bittersweet cherries I e.m CHAPTER 3
previous chapter
couple: eddie munson x aurora henderson (oc)
word count: 1.5k
summary: small flashback between eddie and aurora, conversation with her mother about eddie, dustin tells aurora to go to eddie to talk to him
a/n: idk how to structure this chapter, but I think it worked out well anyways, I hope yall enjoy it :)
________
“Come, Eddie. You have to try it on once before graduation! We have to check if it needs to be hemmed!” Your argument had been going on for an hour, and Eddie wasn’t letting up.
“Did you just call me short?!” He scoffed, flipped his hair, and walked off.
“Babe, please. Just put it on so I can check the length.”
“Noooo!”
“I’ll give you a kiss if you’ll put it on.”
“Really?”
“No, Eddie. Just put the gown on, pleaseee.”
“No kiss, No gown, darling.” He teased me.
“Please, Eddie”
“Nooooo!”
“Why not?”
“Because… It's bad luck.” Eddie finally sat down on the couch. “It’s gonna jinx my chance.”
Over the last year, you worked with Eddie to ensure he didn’t have to army crawl to graduate. You ensured he understood the subjects well, helped him with some projects, and studied with him tirelessly every night. He was very proud of himself when he got his first B, and Wayne hung it up on the fridge. It later got replaced by his first A- which you, Wayne, and Eddie all celebrated that night with a little dance party.
Although it took him a long time to graduate and people always made fun, he is still very proud. He never thought he could do it, especially not without you. He owed this to you. But he was still his peculiar self, and it had to be done his way.
“Bad luck? Sweetie, who told you that?”
“No one did. I guess I’ve just convinced myself that if I put that gown on, my chances of graduating will go away.” You sat next to him on the couch, curled up with your legs providing an armrest for him. He hung his arm against you, lightly tracing circles on your leg.
“Eddie, I promise you that trying on the gown won't ruin your chances. Nothing can ruin your chances because you worked hard and earned this.” Your hand held his trying to comfort him. “If anyone tries to get in the way, I’ll kill them.”
He laughed, “Sure, sure you will, Rory.”
“Please. Just for me? Let me make this day perfect for you. I need to check the length, Eds.” Hoping he would let you if you pleaded some more.
“Fine,” You cheered, “But I don’t wanna see.”
“Deal.” Dragging his butt off the couch and into his room. You helped him with the sleeves and zipped up the long green gown, tracing your finger against the orange piping.
Eddie wasn’t looking; however, you were. He was standing in front of you in his high school graduation gown, something he never thought he’d be able to wear. A tear escaped you as you checked him out.
“Rory, please hurry up. This thing is hot as shit.”
“Hold on one second. I just need to pin it.” You took a pin and folded it over the fabric's edge that was too long. Readjusting it to make sure it was even on both sides. “There ya go! You can take it off now.”
________
After only seeing Eddie’s van when dropping Dustin off, you felt worse. You wanted to turn the car around and go back to him. Instead, you were too afraid. Nerves would’ve taken over your body and made you unable to move. So instead, you acted like a coward and drove back home.
“Mom? Where are you?” You kicked off your shoes and put your hoodie on the hook.
“My room, sweetie!”
She was in there folding laundry. You moved to sit on the bed next to her and started folding the towels. Doing things with her was always comforting because she would never make you talk. Dustin, oh, she should drill into him because he's her Dusty-Bun. But she never forced you to talk about anything. She knew if you wanted to, you would speak up, giving you the option to speak on it.
“Do you think you could do something for me, mom?” placing the folded towel on the pile, “Could you somehow get Eddie to come here tomorrow?”
“Aurora, are you ready to see him? You haven’t even seen the rest of your friends yet.”
“I know, but I think I have to make things right with him before anything else.” Your mind was a wreck trying to figure out the words you would say to him. “I need to, mom. I miss him too much.”
She scooted closed and pulled you into a hug. Immediately you started to cry on her shoulder. “I’ll call him, okay? I’ll ask him to pick up Dustin or something. Does that work?” All she felt was you nod against her.
“Aww, sugar, I know you will make things better with him. The two of you are meant for each other.”
________
When Dustin got home from Hellfire later that afternoon, he wasn’t as jacked up as you thought. You have vivid memories of him coming through the front door, cheering and rambling on about whatever troll or monster he slayed in the game.
Today he went straight to his room and didn’t come out until dinner.
You worried that because he saw Eddie, he might have been in an uncomfortable position. Last night, when you guys were recapping on what had happened while you were away, Dustin mentioned that Eddie often asked if he had heard anything from you. Dustin's conversation with you probably made him more nervous about speaking with Eddie. You felt awful because of this. Dustin and Eddie were close, and you didn’t want to come in between them.
“Hey, Dustin,” You leaned against, “how was Hellfire? Did the campaign end?”
No response.
“Dusty? Did you hear me?” You questioned him once more before moving closer, sitting next to him on his bed. The both of you faced his scattered desk, which had piles of work on it, sheets from D&D, or assignments from Physics. The occasional leftover snack bag was hidden under some of the piles.
He sniffled, which made your heart break. “Talk to him.” His voice cracked as he said it. Dustin wasn’t the most emotional person in the world. Sometimes they just got too overwhelming for him.
“What?”
“He needs you. You need him. Please, I’m begging you. Go talk to him.”
“Dustin…”
“No, Rory, you have to. I told him we hadn’t heard anything after he asked, and you could see the tears forming in his eyes.” The image of Eddie crying alone made your whole body limp. You felt sorry for making him feel like that. You felt terrible. “I don’t care if it ends up with the two of you grossly making out or in a huge verbal fight. You just need to go to him.”
You laughed at his comment of you making out, but he was too serious to even laugh at it. “Okay, look. I had asked mom earlier if she could somehow get Eddie over here tomorrow. I figured that if he came here, I wouldn’t be able to run away as easily. I know I need to talk to him, but I’m still scared to.”
“Rory, you’re my sister. I want what is best for you. And I honestly think that Eddie is what's best for you. I never saw you as happy as you were when you were with him. I might be an annoying younger brother, but I care about you.” Everything he said warmed your heart.
“If it makes you feel better, I’ll be there with you when you see him. Is that okay?” Dustin offered.
All you did was nod in response. You pulled your brother into a tight hug, not caring how hard you squeezed him.
After you released him from your grasp, you took a moment to think.
“Let’s go now.” You stated. In a way, shocking you and Dustin at the same time.
“What? Isn’t mom having him come tomorrow?”
“You’re right, Dustin. I need to go to him and I wanna go now. Grab your jacket, it got colder.”
You left the room, going into yours to freshen up your look. Did you really care that much? No. But you had been crying earlier, and your conversation with your mom made you tear up some more; as a result, eyeliner was smeared under your eyes, and the mascara you had on stained your cheek. You quickly put on your red converse and met Dustin at the front door.
“Mom, we're going to grab some snacks and a movie! We’ll be back in a bit!” She waved the two of you off with her monologue on being safe and not getting too much sugar. Her words were cut off by the door slamming.
The air at gotten colder, as you figured. The two of you piled into your car turning the heat on as soon as you got in.
“You ready?”
“I think so.” The car backed down the driveway, and you drove towards Forest Hills trail park. You didn’t have a plan as to what you would say to him. His reaction alone was still worrying you. It was a rough year for the both of you being separated from each other. For years, you were always together. Either at school, in the woods, in his trailer, or with your friends hanging out. You had never really experienced not having Eddie in your life until you left. With everything Dustin told you, it seems that Eddie wasn’t his best self without you here.
bittersweet cherries I e.m CHAPTER 2
previous chapter
couple: eddie munson x aurora henderson (oc)
word count: 830
summary: eddies pov*, hellfire meeting, driving the boys and erica home, reminiscing about aurora, asking about her, small convo with dustin
a/n: surprisingly got another chapter out today, little short, but that's okay. the weekend is close so I should be able to write a few more then. i hope yall enjoy it! :)
________
The doors busted wide open, revealing Eddie with both hands on the doors. His hair was in its usual disheveled state, but his typical leather jacket was replaced with his work coveralls. “Okay, dungeon children. We have one hour until I have to be back at the shop. Let’s do this.” He smirked as everyone in the room cheered.
He walked over to the dungeon master throne he crafted years ago when Hellfire started. “Lady Applejack, your late arrival is going to cost you.” Eddie teased in a sing-song voice.
“We’ll see about that,” Erica responded curtly.
The whole group began playing and continued until the hour was up. They left everything in the same place since they were coming back the next morning to complete the last leg of Eddie’s campaign.
Erica led the group down the high school hallway with her brother, Dustin, Mike, and Eddie, following shortly behind. Arms slung across each other as they recap the events of the meeting, still arguing over one of Mike's crit hits.
“Kiddos, come on. Pack it into the van. I’m taking all of you home or to Mikes?” Eddie would admit that he loves the boys and cares for them deeply. But never publicly announce it.
“All to our houses,” Lucas answered, sending him a thumbs up as he was the last to pile into the back of Eddies van. Both doors shut with bits of rust coming off the old handles.
________
“See you guys tomorrow!” Mike, Lucas, and Erica all jumped out of the back of the van and waved Eddie and Dustin off. Dustin also climbed up front to sit next to Eddie, taking a bag of trail mix from his backpack to snack on.
It was just becoming dark, so the sky still had bits of orange and pink mixed together. Street lamps turned on as they continued to drive down the road to Dustin’s house. The radio in the car played a crackly version of a random cassette tape Eddie popped in.
Over the past year, Eddie and Dustin had grown closer than anyone could imagine. After knowing each other for years, it seemed they were already as close as you could get. Since after you left, it made them grow closer because they both loved and missed you terribly. Eddie had become sort of a brother for Dustin.
“Hey, uh,” Dustin turned his head to face Eddie, “Kid, you look like a squirrel.”
“Shoure doh!” His response was barely audible.
“Anyways, I was gonna ask you… Have y-you heard anything?” Eddies voice had gone quiet and soft.
Dustin knew you had come home, but after your conversation earlier, he didn’t feel it was his place to tell Eddie you were back. “No. My mom called our aunt the other day but said she was out.”
Dustin felt like shit lying to Eddie. He wanted to make Eddie happy and tell him your back. He could go to your room and see you in person. He could hug you or kiss you. Just seeing you in front of him would make him so happy.
“Oh, okay.” Eddie sighed and brought his hand up to his mouth, chewing on the nail bed of his thumb. A habit he broke off years ago once Corroed Coffin started getting regular spots at the Hideout. It hurt more when he played, and you helped him break the bad habit. Nevertheless, bad habits creep up fast once there’s an opening.
“Here, ya go, kid. See ya tomorrow.” Dustin thanked him, grabbed his backpack, and left the van.
Eddie waited until he got into the house safely, but his hand stopped on the gear shift. He looked through the car's shield to look at your window. The house's siding still has scrapes underneath the window from when he snuck in. Every time he dropped Dustin off after Hellfire, school, or hanging out, he waited and looked at your window.
Hoping.
Wanting.
Praying.
That he would see your shadow through the shades dancing to whatever Pat Benatar or Madonna song you had playing on your record player. Or to see you sitting in your wicker chair reading some book he would never understand.
Nothing was there. No movements, no sounds. You clearly weren’t back, and Eddie had to accept that.
Eddie switched the gear and backed out of the driveway of your house.
He was hopeful that you would return. Come back to Hawkins, work at Family Video again, get back together with him, and spend every day together. Just like you guys had planned to do after graduation. Create a life for the two of you like you promised each other. All Eddie could do was wait for you to come back. He was sure that you would; he never gave up on you. Others think he's reaching a bit for the stars, but you never know.
A cigarette soon met his lips as a tear fell from his cheek.
“S-shit.”
bittersweet cherries I e.m CHAPTER 1
previous chapter
couple: eddie munson x aurora henderson (oc)
word count: 1.2 k
summary: aurora remembers things about the past, making her nostalgic and a little sad. Dustin coaxed her into driving him and Mike to hellfire. She finally sees one of her old friends since she hasn't left the house yet. Avoids running into eddie
a/n: this ended up being longer than I expected. But its not too bad. I hope you all enjoy it! :)
________
Being back in Hawkins was surreal to you, considering how abruptly you left a year ago. Only two bags and a small backpack traveled with you to New York to live with an aunt of yours.
But now, you’re back in your old bedroom, which held all the memories you tried so hard to remember while you’d been away.
All the converse you collected over time was still in a large pile in the corner, looking like it was about to topple over. The top shelves of your bookcase are lined with cherry coke cans, and the middle shelves overflow with books. A single touch to one of them and the whole thing would fall. Posters and notes cluttered the wall, showing an array of movies, bands, and jokes Eddie left for you in your locker. Some of them had little doodles on them you had drawn on them. Plushies stuffed into the bottom of the closet and your old clothes your mother never let you get rid of.
You sat on the beaten-up wicker chair in the corner next to your shoes facing the window. You often sat here reading or doing schoolwork while in high school. The molding paint was chipped, showing the true wood color that matched the trim against the floorboards.
Eventually, at night, Eddie would crawl through the window and give you a rundown of his day. Everything he did within the five hours after you saw each other in school. He always came prepared with a bag of cherries you’d share with him or a cherry coke for you.
He was a constant presence in your house, whether he had snuck in or entered with the guidance of Dustin after a miscommunication between him and your mother. He was scared to be near her without a buffer after that incident. Eddie never liked to talk about it. It was very embarrassing for him. He always told you off when you teased him about it.
You didn’t realize how loud the sigh you let out was or that Dustin was standing in your doorframe. “How long have you been standing there?”
“Since the first tear fell down your face.” He explained. You hadn’t realized you started crying, quickly whipping away the wetness on your cheek. “Why are you crying?”
“No reason. I just am, I guess.”
“People cry for a reason, Rory.” He moved to sit across from you on the bed.
“People cry just to feel something sometimes, Dustin. Maybe that’s what I’m doing. I’m not sure.”
“Rory.” His voice was sincere and quiet. Using the nickname that almost everyone called you by made you want to cry more. You hadn’t been called that in a while.
“Coming back was a good thing, I know that. It’s just- there are a lot of emotions with returning. It’s slowly catching up with me. That's all.” Finally, giving in to him.
“Have you talked with anyone since you got back? You haven’t really left the house.”
“I’m afraid to, Dustin. I left without warning. I-I’m not sure if I’m ready to see certain people.” You sniffled and wiped a rouge tear that had escaped. Dustin knew exactly who you were talking about. Hell, Eddie is one of his best friends and sees him most days. You’re still unsure what you want to do, so you decided not to see anyone yet.
“I think if you saw someone else other than Mom or me, you would feel better. Even if it was just Mike or Nancy.” He offered with his gummy smile. “Come on, I need someone to drive me to Hellfire anyways. We gotta pick up Mike on the way.” Dustin swiftly left the room after throwing the keys he had in his hand at you.
“You little shit.” You let out another sigh, grabbed a hoodie from your floor, and made your way to the car in which Dustin was already sitting.
“Your plan was just to get me to drive you, not to be a nice, concerned brother?” You gave him a dirty look.
“I gotta say, you know me better than I do.” He started laughing, but it stopped once you flicked him on the forehead. “Ow! Rory, that hurt.”
“Oh, it did not.” The both of you bickered all the way to the Wheeler's house.
_______
The familiar shape of the Wheeler’s filled your vision as you turned around in the cul-de-sac. All the memories rushed to you of spending Halloween with Nancy as the boys trick-or-treated or sleepovers that included doing each other nails and watching whatever Tome Cruise movie had just released.
“I’m not going inside. Go get Mike.” Putting the car in park and sitting back.
“Uh, no way. You’re coming with me. Come on.” He opened the car door and walked around to open yours. “Let’s go, milady!” Showing off is smiling one more time before you exit the car.
“Fine,” you let out with a huff. “Let’s go.”
Dustin knocked on the door just for his favorite person to open the door, Mr. Wheeler. “Oh, hello. Here to take more of our food, I presume?” He mocked.
“No, sir. Here with my sister,” motioned towards you, “to pick up Mike for Hellfire.”
“MIKE! Your friend is here for your club of high school dropouts.” He left the door open for you and Dustin to walk in.
“Aurora, is that you?” Mrs. Wheeler walked into the foyer, wiping her hands with a dish towel. “You’re back, sweetie?”
“Oh, yes. I got back this week. It’s nice to see you.” The two of you exchanged a small hug when you noticed Nancy and Mike standing on the staircase's landing.
“Holy shit.” They both said in unison.
“Hey, what did I tell you about that language?” Mrs. Wheeler walked off back into the kitchen, shooting them both a glare.
Nancy ran up to you, immediately engulfing you into a hug, squeezing a bit too tight. “Oh, my gosh. I missed you so much. I cannot believe you’re back.” She finally stepped back.
“Yeah, I know. Neither can I, honestly. It’s a little freaky.” The two of you continued a bit more before Dustin and Mike started bickering about something in D&D.
“Okay, well, I have to drop them off to be someone else's problem or a while. I’ll see you soon, Nance.” You joked a bit while ushering the boys out the door towards the car.
“Bye, Rory!”
________
The one thing you tried to avoid thinking about while driving was where you were going. Which isn’t necessarily the safest thing. But you couldn’t help yourself. You start to panic the closer you get to the school.
You also pulled your hood up over your head as you pulled in. Attempting to cover up as much as possible. If anyone saw you, you might have a heart attack.
“Okay, here ya go, boys. What time do you need to be picked up?”
“We don’t, uh,” Dustin looked over to Mike, “ You don’t have to pick us up.” They both left too fast, almost tripping on the ground and slamming the doors behind them.
Ignoring what just happened, you also left very fast. The car skidded across the pavement for a moment before leveling out.
You can see Eddies van pull into the school's entrance in your rearview mirror. “That was close.”
bittersweet cherries I e.m INTRO
couple: eddie munson x aurora henderson
word count: 705
summary: brief mention of the past- Aurora returning home shocking her mother and brother, dustin henderson.
a/n: this is my first time writing or posting for tumblr. i hope this turned out as well as i want it to. i do have a good idea as to the whole outline of the story i wanna try to complete so hopefully i can. I've been thinking about this for a while so I'm excited to try :)
________ “Here you go, princess. One cherry cola and packa’ gum.” Eddie said as he handed you the items from the gas station. Throwing the plastic back in the back that probably held a bunch more snacks and a six-pack.
The two of you were driving to Corroded’s next gig, a couple of towns south of Hawkins. Gareth and the rest of the boys were driving over separately just you could drive with Eddie and all the equipment.
One last time.
One last drive with all the windows down, Mötley Crüe blasting through the beat-up speakers in the van, Eddie’s hands drumming along against the stirring wheel, and both of yours’ hair going crazy in the wind.
“I gotta say, princess. I’ll never get tired of this.” Eddie sweetly caresses your cheek as you look over towards him. You can feel the cool metal of his rings on your cheek.
A much better sensation than what you’re actually feeling. His words stabbed your heart because only you knew this was the last time. And he wasn’t prepared for you to leave.
________
The air was finally turning as fall approached Hawkins faster. Trees started to shed the leaves they had, and it covered the streets like confetti. Everyone in town has just started to curate their pumpkin collection outside their houses, and denim jackets have become a justified choice for the weather.
It was your favorite time of the year. But this wasn’t like previous years.
You were returning after a year of being away from Hawkins. Being away from your bratty little brother whom you loved, your caring mother who somehow puts up with you and your brother's antics, and all your friends who you missed greatly.
Do you regret leaving? Yes.
Do you wish you had listened to your mom and stayed home? Yes.
Do you wish you had told Eddie why you left? Yes.
Are you scared to come back? Yes.
You took a huge deep breath before opening the door to your house. Nerves fill your body and make you more clumsy than you usually were. The door opened swiftly, but you tripped on the trim, making your presence known throughout the house.
“Dusty, I told you to stop reading and walking at the same time!” Your mother bellowed from the kitchen.
“I’M NOT WALKING, MOM! I AM LYING DOWN!” Dustin screamed back from his room.
“I tripped on the trim of the door, mom. It was just me.” You said, entering the kitchen where your mother stood in front of the sink. “Sorry about that.” You sheepishly continued.
“Oh my gosh! Aurora, oh, my darling! You’re back!” She dropped the towel and came rushing towards you, pulling you into a tight hug.
“Oh, you’re back.” She repeated. Probably trying to convince herself that you’re actually standing here.
“I’m back, mom. I’m back for good.” Rubbing a soft hand against her back, trying to console her.
You broke apart the hug to set down your bags and backpack, which was straining your back. As you did so, you almost got pushed into the wall. When you turn to see why you see your little brother with a frown on his face.
“Dustin! Why are you shoving me against a wall?”
“Because! You decided to return without calling or giving any warning! That’s mean!” He argued.
“Okay, dude, that's fair, but come on. It’s me, your big sister,” You should him a gummy smile similar to his, “The same one who brought back books for you, but I guess I’ll give them to someone else since you seem ungrateful.” Teasing him back.
“Woah, Woah, let's not make any rash decisions.” Raising his arms up in defense
“They’re in the blue bag, dingus.” You laughed at his excitement as he shuffled through the stuff in the bag.
You feel the warmth that’s in the house. Your mom has some type of pie in the oven, causing the house to smell like cinnamon and sugar. Dustin has started to read one of the books you got him aloud, filling the house with noise. A house you’ve missed terribly and are glad you’ve returned to. Although, you know, the next couple of weeks will be tough.