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mypoisonedvine · 2 years

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𝙼𝙴𝙴𝚃 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙼𝚄𝙽𝚂𝙾𝙽𝚂 - chapter 10: all the love in the world. FINALE.

𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢 - the end is just the beginning.

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 - over 10k

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 - SMUT (18+ only, I warned y'all from the beginning), emotions, angst, fluff, more stepcesty stuff, brief pregnancy mention/discussion, reader's mom gets a first name sorry if that breaks the illusion for anyone

(thank you to everyone who read this series, it's been such an adventure and I'm glad I could take you with me <3)

Eddie cleared his throat as he stood in front of the crowd gathered in the backyard— small, but still a crowd. "Well, um, hi," he waved at the seated guests, most of whom waved back. "Bet you never thought you'd see me in a suit, right?"

Scattered, polite laughs rippled through the group.

"Um, neither did I. And I never thought I'd see the day that my uncle got married, either, but here we are. Wayne's never had much luck with the ladies— I guess it's proof we're related, right?" he chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck briefly. "Anyways— I knew something was different when he came home from dinner with a 'friend' —" Eddie gestured with dramatic air quotes— "and couldn't stop smiling. I've got some pretty great friends but, they don't make me smile like that."

He glanced at you, and you offered your best reassuring smile-and-thumbs-up combo.

"He told me a couple days later that he'd met this woman,” Eddie continued, glancing down at the cards again. “Apparently he helped her find something at the hardware store. I was so happy for him that I resisted the urge to make an insensitive joke about if he was going to 'nail' her."

You snorted out an embarrassed laugh, and you caught your mom’s expression: clearly a little shocked, but thankfully, amused.

"And, uh, I met her a couple weeks later, and she said she liked my hair,” Eddie recalled. “So I knew she was cool. But most of all, I knew she was right for my uncle. He's a pretty stoic guy— and I don't think I've ever seen him laugh in my entire life the way he can laugh in one night with Donna. They're so right for each other it's nuts. It hasn't been an easy road to today for either of them. I think some people think you can only love one person in your life, but they're wrong: you can have an amazing life, and an amazing family, and an amazing daughter with someone…"

Your heart was in your throat already.

"...and you can still find happiness with someone else down the line. And I can’t think of anyone more deserving of that than you, Donna."

Shit. You were worried about crying during your own speech. You hadn’t even considered that you might cry over Eddie’s.

"Donna, you're too nice for your own good. You took me in just because you love my uncle so much— and that says everything about the kind of person you are. You've given me a roof over my head, you've given me way more credit than I deserve, and you've given me a really cool sister. She's actually cooler than me, which is annoying."

You laughed a little, but bit your lip when a sob almost came out.

"Wayne— I won't say too much because I'm not about to cry in front of all these people. I think everything I really need to say, you already know. But in case you don't… you're more of a dad to me than my father’s even been. I’d be in the clink or in a ditch somewhere if you hadn’t been there to straighten me out. I know I didn’t always make it easy on you… actually, I almost never made it easy on you. You taught me almost everything I know, except the guitar— and I’m gonna need you to teach me how to find such an amazing lady, and how to make it last. Deal?”

Wayne nodded at him, and the guests clapped politely as Eddie left his place standing in front of them to give his uncle a hug and his new aunt-slash-mother-figure a kiss on the cheek. On shaky legs, you stood up and hoped you could find some way to follow that.

Your heart raced as you found yourself facing all those guests; last time you’d been standing in front of them all, you’d been behind your mother at the altar, so they were all looking at her. Now you were alone and had all their attention to yourself; Eddie took his seat and shot you a thumbs up before you started.

You glanced down at your notes, holding onto them for dear life. Thank everyone for coming & joke about beer, the first line of the first index card read.

“Well,” you began, feeling your heart rate pick up, “I’d like to begin by thanking you all for coming. It means so much to us that you’re here, and I know you all wouldn’t miss an opportunity for free beer.”

It was a safe joke, and it got a safe laugh, and you looked at the next line for guidance: When Mom first met Wayne…

“When Mom first met Wayne,” you repeated, “she… actually didn’t tell me.”

That seemed to surprise a few people.

“I guess she was afraid that I wouldn’t approve, either of him or of her dating again at all. Sadly, her fears weren’t… totally misplaced,” you admitted, cringing slightly. “But only because, when it comes to any man who wants to be in my mom’s life, I have incredibly high standards. And anyone who knew my father knows why.”

You flipped to the next card. DAD it said at the top, with more notes of the points you wanted to cover beneath. You froze, wondering if you had the strength to go on with what you’d written.

“Um… after my dad passed away…” you started, voice getting a bit weaker— they were all staring at you, that was something you hadn’t properly appreciated when you were preparing this speech, that they’d all be staring like this. “It was hard, obviously. It’s not easy for anyone to lose a partner, or a parent. I know it was harder on my mom than she let on— she was trying to be strong for me. And I was just trying to pretend like everything was fine. But it wasn’t, and we were both hurting a lot. Our family was… broken, it was missing something. And, of course, no one could fill the space my dad left behind— but I didn’t know someone could make my mom that happy again.”

Shakily, you put the card at the back of the stack and stared at the next heading: WAYNE. Hard working, compassionate and passionate, nicer than he looks.

“Wayne, though, is truly a special man. He’s hard-working, compassionate and passionate, and I’ve learned that he’s not as intimidating as he looks,” you smiled. “I wouldn’t have blamed him at all for basically ignoring me completely— he knows I’m not a kid anymore, and he knows he doesn’t exactly need my approval to be with my mom. But, he also knows how important we are to each other, and he’s been nothing but supportive of me. Congrats, Mom, you might’ve gotten one of the last good ones.”

Again, polite laughter for an easy joke— if perhaps a bit more feminist than your average piece of wedding-speech-humor— but when you glanced up, you caught a smirk on Eddie’s face.

You looked down at your cards again, turning to the next one. EDDIE it said at the top… but the rest was blank. Fuck, you’d been putting off this part to the very last second— and the last second passed about ten minutes ago. You let out a nervous “um” as you stalled, trying to imagine what the fuck you could possibly say about Eddie. “A-and, well,” you choked, “what could I say about Eddie… that hasn't already been said over police radios all across the county."

They laughed, but you only cared if Eddie laughed at that one, so you'd know if you'd gone too far. You heard his laugh first and loudest, and you smiled to yourself.

"But, in all seriousness: Eddie, you're…" you trailed off again. You looked at him, which was a huge mistake; the way he was looking at you was just overwhelming. You glanced down at your cards again quickly. "You're definitely one of a kind," you decided, "and I'm… really, really lucky to have you in my life."

The crowd was filled with awwws, but you refused to look up from that blank index card. It was your only protection now— you felt terribly vulnerable in front of everyone, admitting things you hadn't even admitted to yourself. You took a deep, but shaky, breath in and out.

"They say you can't choose your family," you continued. "And even in this case, when we're not actually related, it's true. But— but I'd choose you anyways."

For a second, you almost thought Eddie was tearing up, but he was looking down and it was dark out already, so you couldn’t quite tell. You flipped to your last index card. Close out.

“It’s so special to be with you all here tonight,” you nodded, “celebrating Mom and Wayne— the hottest couple in Hawkins. Cheers!”

Glasses raised and clinked, and you gave your mom and your new stepfather a hug on your way back to your own seat.

As the night progressed, dinner turned to dancing and slightly heavier drinking— although it turns out older crowds don’t go quite as bananas for free alcohol as high school and college students do, shockingly.

“Can I get you a drink?” Eddie asked you after finding you keeping mostly to yourself in the corner.

“I’m, uh, not much of a drinker,” you informed him.

“Will you come dance with me?” he asked next.

“I’m not much of a dancer, either,” you laughed.

“Neither am I,” he assured with a laugh, extending a hand out to you. “Just come with me.”

You gave him a look. “What’s with the insistence?”

“I want you to have fun, is that so terrible?” he pressed.

“Since when is dancing with you ‘fun’?” you noticed.

He gave you a wide grin as one song faded out, and the next one began: Into The Groove by Madonna, the one Eddie had heard you singing along to loudly in your room however long ago. “I know you dance to this one,” he smirked.

Groaning in defeat, but smiling a bit as the guilty pleasure song played, you took his hand and let him drag you to the middle of the yard. Of course, for a song like this, dancing together is more just dancing near each other, but he was right— it was fun.

“I’m tired of dancing here all by myself, tonight I wanna dance with someone else!” the lyrics announced as you and Eddie bounced around uncoordinatedly; maybe you looked sort of stupid, but hey, you already had the uncomfortable fluff of a Pepto Bismol pink dress on so it wasn’t like you were ever at risk of looking elegant or anything…

Thankfully the weather was nice and the dark evening was getting even cooler, so working up some heat dancing this way actually served as a protection from the chilly breeze— Eddie had a flush on his face by the time the song was almost over, a rosy tint over his nose and cheeks and the slightest shine on his forehead from the exertion.

In a few minutes, the music changed, from fast and upbeat to something slow and gentle— you recognized it as soon as that familiar voice began to croon: “I can hear so much in your sighs, and I can see so much in your eyes…”

You smiled a little, remembering singing along to The Beach Boys when Eddie was practicing his guitar. You thought instantly that this song would sound so much better if he were singing it instead, even if you loved the original.

Some people left the dance floor, some couples got up to dance, but everyone had stopped the energetic dancing and had begun to move much more slowly, holding each other… it was all very romantic, except that you were just standing there staring at Eddie as he awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck.

“There are words we both could say…”

He cleared his throat, and when he opened his mouth, you were so afraid he was about to make an excuse to leave. I’m gonna get a beer, you want one? or I should check in on the happy couple or something— and, hoping to stop him, you suddenly put your hands on his shoulders.

Looking at you again, he blinked those brown eyes quickly but stepped closer to you anyways. Your hands were still on his shoulders, but you never actually found the strength to push him away, so he put his hands on your waist and suddenly you were slow dancing. “But don’t talk, put your head on my shoulder…”

Your breathing was shaky and you hoped he wouldn’t notice; his thumb moved slightly where it held your waist through your dress, and you felt every touch amplified by your anxiety-awakened skin.

“Come close, close your eyes and be still,” the gentle singing played from the speakers, “take my hand and let me hear your heartbeat.”

Hesitating at first, you leaned your head forward and let it rest on his chest; he tilted his head down to look at you, but you didn’t look back at him, you just couldn’t take that right now. You really could hear his heartbeat, even without pressing your ear right up to him, even through the white button-up dress shirt; it was strong and fast, and your eyes fell shut.

“Being here with you feels so right, we could live forever tonight,” the song continued, “let's not think about tomorrow and don't talk, put your head on my shoulder—”

Swaying together, you felt Eddie hold you a little tighter, but he could never hold you tight enough. He could never hold you long enough.

“Thank you,” he whispered, and you blinked your eyes quickly so you could lean back and look up at him.

“For what?” you wondered.

“Being nice to me,” he replied. “Just for tonight— you can be mean again tomorrow.”

You laughed a little, looking down at where his shiny black shoes stepped in time with your pink kitten heels. But then you felt his hand on your waist squeeze gently again and you sighed. Silence returned, but it wasn’t awkward, just… quiet. Except for, you know, the music, which went on as you danced together.

“Don’t talk, put your head on my shoulder…”

When the song ended all too soon, you stepped back slightly and looked up at Eddie, wondering if he could see everything in your eyes— it felt like he could, it looked like he could with the way he was looking back at you.

There was only a second of silence before the next song came on, and the melody played on plunky synths gave it away instantly as Take My Breath Away by Berlin. You exhaled a quick laugh and Eddie took his hands off your back. “I hate this song,” you announced.

“Me too,” he agreed, “so cheesy.”

You nodded and crossed one arm over your chest to hold the other nervously, starting to awkwardly glance around the reception.

“Wanna get out of here?” he offered, and you looked up at him.

“Eddie, we can’t leave,” you said when you realized what he was suggesting.

“Yeah we can,” he dismissed with a wave of his hand, “just for a few minutes— they won’t even notice.”

You hesitated before nodding; “Y-yeah, sure…”

He grabbed your wrist and guided you across the yard to the fence, specifically the darkest corner of the fence where he took a cursory glance to make sure no one was looking before lacing his fingers together and holding them down for you. “Here,” he offered, tilting his head towards the fence.

You started to lift your foot before you put it on the ground again. “Wait. You’re not gonna look up my skirt, are you?”

He sighed. “Do you really think so little of me, sweetheart?”

Sufficiently guilted, you stepped on his hands and let him give you a lift up so you could grab the top of the fence, just barely getting the leverage you needed to pull one leg over.

“Ooh, cute lace,” he praised lasciviously.

“God damn it,” you hissed, flinging yourself over and managing to land upright on both feet on the other side— it was easier to get down this way because a hill was just starting and the ground was a bit higher. Eddie hauled himself up a moment later, jumping down onto the other side and dusting himself off afterwards.

You walked up the hill together as he promised to take you to some place he knew about— you just hoped it wasn’t too far, because these silken flats weren’t exactly built for distance.

It wasn’t far at all, actually; it was just past the treeline, over the highest point of the hill, and when Eddie guided you out to where he’d stopped, you gasped at the view. From here, you could see nearly all of Hawkins— twinkling lights in rows and columns, cars driving down streets, the old church, the town hall—

“Oh my god,” you breathed. “From here, it almost doesn’t look like the shittiest little town ever.”

He laughed. “I know, right?”

“When did you find this place?” you asked.

He sat down on the grass and patted beside him for you to sit, too. “Well,” he began as you tried to find a comfortable way to sit in the dress, “it must’ve been about a week after I moved in. I went on a walk and sorta just stumbled on it.”

You laughed and sighed simultaneously, shaking your head. “I’ve lived here for years, and never knew I was one hill away from the best view of the town; you’re here a week and you find this.”

“I think your problem is you have all these amazing things right in front of you,” he decided, “but you don’t know how to look for them.”

“Is that supposed to be a metaphor?” you pressed.

He shrugged. “It’s just something I noticed.”

A long lull fell in the conversation while the two of you looked out over the lights of Hawkins. The music from the reception seemed to follow the wind, and with a gust of breeze, you heard guitars and melodic singing: Josie’s on a vacation far away, come around and talk it over…

You laughed, just to yourself, but then started to laugh harder until you were holding your stomach and falling back into the grass.

“What?” Eddie laughed with you. “What’s so funny?”

You tried to tell him, but you were laughing too hard to make sense.

“Come on,” he whined, and you composed yourself enough to string a sentence together.

“I hated you,” you laughed, “god, I hated you in high school! You were so… loud! And you didn’t care what anyone thought of you— and back then, I thought that was a bad thing, I thought it was impossible. And now— now that nothing can ever happen with us, of course that’s when I start falling for you.”

You didn’t even care that you’d said it, you didn’t even care that he was looking at you that way or that it felt like getting stabbed in the chest. Your laughter stopped, and you bit your lip to keep it from turning into tears.

“And I just think that’s funny,” you concluded.

“Yeah,” he smiled, looking down at the ground, “yeah, it is funny.”

You were looking out at the horizon, the lights all over Hawkins going out as stores closed and families went to bed and your sleepy little town really slept, when Eddie scooted a little closer to you.

“One question,” he requested. “Uh… remind me why nothing can ever happen with us?”

“‘Cause my mom, and your uncle,” you sighed. Your eyes glanced down at your legs, seeing his stretched out beside them, one ringed hand resting on his bent knee as the other kept him propped up in the grass. “They’re married, in case you didn’t notice.”

“Yeah,” he sighed, “they really love each other, huh?”

You nodded.

“Wayne told me when he was gonna propose to your mom,” Eddie said suddenly. “I asked him what he was gonna say, and he said, ‘I’m just gonna tell her the truth.’”

You smiled. “That’s why they work. The truth is exactly what she needs.”

“What do you need?”

You looked down at the grass. “I… I don’t know.”

"Maybe," he whispered, "I could finally tell you the truth, too."

You gave him an expectant stare, and he coughed a bit, but continued.

“Okay, well, the truth is,” Eddie began, “I like who I am when I’m with you. I know you don’t, really, but… I do. And when I’m not with you, I’m usually thinking about you. ‘Usually’ as in, ‘always’.”

As he looked at you, searching your expression for some reaction, he leaned in a little closer.

“And I had a bit of a thing for you in high school— I mean, as much as I could, without ever talking to you,” he added. “Except that one time.”

You remembered it well, normally, but suddenly you forgot everything you ever knew as he moved even closer, his face right in front of yours, his eyes giving you a look that made you shiver.

“And I love you,” he leaned in to kiss your cheek, “I love you,” he kissed the other, “I love you.”

He kissed just beside your nose, and you whimpered: “Eddie—”

He held your face in both his hands, pulling back to look at you closely. “No, don’t break my heart just yet. Let me tell you one more time. I love you.”

You took a shaky breath. “I thought you hated me,” you whispered.

He looked hurt, and as a tear fell from your eye, he wiped it away with his thumb. “No, no baby— how could you think that?”

“Because…” you trailed off. “Because the way I love you makes me hate myself.”

With him giving you that devastated look, you figured you had to continue before you made it too much worse.

“You’re everything I wish I could be,” you explained, “you’re crazy and you’re confident and you’re free. You don’t care what people think. And I’m—”

“Uptight, self-conscious, and perfectionistic?” he finished, and you frowned.

“Hey…” you mumbled defensively, looking down, but he lifted your face again.

“Those are all the things I love about you,” he explained. “I love everything about you. I knew how you felt about me back then— it didn’t stop me from having a massive crush on you.”

“First it’s a ‘bit of a thing’, now it’s a ‘massive crush’?” you noticed with a raised eyebrow, and he laughed as his cheeks tinted.

“Can’t get anything past you, huh?” he sighed. “Yeah, I was really into you. I told myself that you were really this creative, passionate, wild-and-crazy sort of girl beneath the goody-two-shoes shell— that you were just waiting for someone to break you out of that prison you built for yourself. And I imagined that it was me, that one day you’d ask me for something and we would start talking and you would end up begging me to take you away from it all. To steal you from that asshole Gary and sweep you off your feet— and we would get in the van and leave it all behind. Fuck Hawkins, fuck high school, fuck everybody.”

You sniffled, clutching at his tuxedo jacket’s lapel. “Eddie…” you whispered, not sure how to say anything more than that.

“We’d find shitty jobs and a shitty apartment somewhere in the middle of a town that actually matters,” he continued, “and we’d sleep on the floor the first night because there wasn’t time to pick out a bed. I could play guitar on a street corner and buy you flowers with whatever coins people toss in the case, and you could take enough pictures to cover the walls so we don’t need wallpaper. And we’d find a stray cat in the rain and bring it inside and name it something metal like Sabbath or Zeppelin. And it would all be so stupid, so massively irresponsible, but it would be our stupid irresponsible little life together. And it would be fucking beautiful.”

Biting your lip, you still couldn’t stop yourself from crying as tears fell down your heated cheeks. “Eddie, that’s what I wanted,” you sighed. “I didn’t know it then, but that’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

“Then let’s do it,” he whispered, and it was you that closed the gap— it was you that kissed him, finally, holding on tighter to his jacket as you inhaled sharply and pressed your lips onto his.

They really were soft, just like you thought they’d be; but he tasted different than you expected, maybe because he hadn’t smoked recently. But he tasted like the way the air smells after it rains, and beer, and the leftover sweetness of wedding cake frosting. You breathed against his skin and tasted it more as he deepened the kiss, letting yourself really melt into it, letting him hold you tighter and move his lips with yours however he wanted.

His hand gently reached up to hold the back of your head; the other stroked your cheek one more time before drifting down to your waist.

It was surreal— it was hyperreal— it was Eddie, you were kissing Eddie. Eddie Munson, the freak, the loser, the delinquent; Eddie Munson, your technical-relative; Eddie Munson, that guy who wouldn’t sit still for the damn yearbook photo.

Somehow, thinking about it like that just made you smile a bit and kiss him harder.

What was originally gentle and comforting and sweet started to shift after a few moments, as he opened his mouth wider and gripped your waist harder and let you feel some of that hunger— god, you knew the feeling too well, and you scooted forward in the grass to press yourself to him a bit. He hummed, low and soft, and you whimpered in return as your noises were nearly lost in the kiss.

You held on tighter to his lapel, then reached up to squeeze his shoulders, and he groaned— fuck, it was the sexiest thing you’d heard since… no, actually, it was just the sexiest thing you’d ever heard.

Gasping against his lips, you pushed him down roughly by those shoulders, pinning him to the grass as you swung your leg and straddled his lap. “Fuck,” he muttered, pulling you down to kiss him again.

It was shameless now, all lips and tongue and teeth— when he gently bit on your lower lip you thought you might really go actually crazy— as your hands gripped at his shirt to feel his chest while his touch ran down your back, up your legs, basically anywhere he could reach.

Just when you thought this was it, you were really going to get it over with right here and now after all these years, he broke away. “Baby, wait,” he choked out, shrinking back, and you froze as you pulled away by sitting up slightly.

“What?” you asked, terrified you were about to get your heart kicked back into its cage when you freed it for the first time in years.

“Th-this is a rental,” he blurted out, motioning slightly at the tux he had on.

After a moment’s pause, you started to laugh. And he laughed, too. You relaxed slightly and sat back on his thighs; he sat up and pulled you into a hug, kissing the side of your head while it was nearby. The laughter died down, and the moment passed, and you let each other out of the embrace.

“We should probably get back now,” he decided, and you nodded in agreement.

He took your hand and you ran together through the grass, back towards the sound of the backyard reception, back to the real world.

The whole crowd of guests stood out front and waved as Wayne and your mom drove away — for all the effort you put into getting a nice vintage Cadillac for the send-off, it looked pretty tacky with the streamers and cans tied to it, clanking as it drove down the cul-de-sac.

When they were out of sight, you and Eddie took one more deep breath before turning to the guests behind you. “Thank you all so much for coming!” you announced.

And that was basically what you did for the next fifteen minutes: shake a bunch of hands, wave goodbye, thank everyone for their attendance and gifts. When they left, the rest of your work was only beginning, and it was nearly midnight! Eddie offered to wash dishes and take out the trash while you took down decorations and paid the guys coming to take back the rented stereo equipment.

Thankfully, with the two of you, it went pretty quickly. There was more to do, but it could wait until the morning; it’s not like having tables and chairs set up in your backyard overnight is a crime or something.

When you were done with your tasks, you leaned up against the entryway to the kitchen, finding Eddie drying the last plate. He looked over his shoulder at you for a second, smiling, before drying his hands and setting it all down to face you: his jacket was long gone and his bowtie hung untied loosely around an unbuttoned collar that exposed a hint of clavicle and chest hair.

“So, house to ourselves,” he noticed, glancing around. “We throwin’ a rager or what?”

You smiled softly, glancing down.

He approached you slowly and carefully, reaching up to hold your shoulders when he was close enough. Even now you felt a little shaky, a little nervous to be this close to him even when you’d already kissed, but his gentle smile soothed you; so you did it, you stood up a bit taller and kissed him.

It wasn’t as sudden as the last one, so it wasn’t as rushed, and yet there was a creeping sense of urgency to it because you both realized it could go somewhere— maybe it didn’t have to, but with an empty house and no time limit or deadline coming up, anything could happen tonight.

As you clutched his shirt and pulled him closer with an inhale through your nose, feeling his hands take your waist and press you to him, you realized that you wanted it to go somewhere. Not just anywhere— you knew exactly where you wanted this to go.

“Bed,” you blurted out, pulling back to look up at him. “We— we should go to bed.”

“Okay,” he agreed, sounding a little breathless, “top or bottom?”

You laughed as he started guiding you with him already. “Mine, for sure,” you decided.

“Aw,” he pouted as you walked through the bedroom door, “I’ve been thinking about getting you in my bed for ages— not gonna let me have my fantasy, huh?”

As you fell back onto your bottom bunk, pulling him down with you, he got the angle wrong and smacked his forehead on the wood between the mattresses; you laughed, covering your mouth when you felt guilty for it, and he scrunched up his nose as he held his head for a second. “That was my fantasy,” you joked, and he laughed in return as he ducked a little too dramatically now to join you in the bed.

The lower bunk could feel a bit like a cave sometimes, in a cozy sort of way— but with Eddie on top of you, it was like it was all closing in on you as his weight dipped you both deeper into the mattress than ever. That probably sounds horribly claustrophobic, but it was actually nice. You felt safe and shockingly not-vulnerable considering the circumstances, even as he started to unzip the back of your dress while he kissed you again.

For your part, you were absolutely flying through his shirt’s buttons, sighing when it was opened and you could run your hands over his warm skin beneath. His tattoos looked better than ever peeking out from under a tuxedo shirt, though you only got a brief glimpse of him before his lips on your neck all but forced your head to tilt back.

“Sensitive,” he noticed with a whisper, but just one word said like that made you mewl and work harder to get his shirt off. But before you could get it all the way over his shoulders, he managed to get your dress down enough to expose your chest— and he hungrily sucked on your breasts as soon as he could.

“Oh god,” you whined, hips rocking up into nothing.

“Here too,” he laughed as he kissed from one to the other, looking up at you for a second. “Are you always this… responsive?”

You almost laughed imagining that Eddie really thought Gary had ever gotten this kind of reaction out of you. You bit your lip and shook your head, and a little snarl curled his lips as he growled at you.

“Just for me, then?” he assumed, and you nodded. “That’s so sexy— you’re so sexy…”

“You too,” you admitted as he suckled at your chest again. “I-I thought about this.”

“Yeah?” he breathed. “I thought about this, too— a lot.”

You smiled proudly, before he broke away and sat up slightly to tug your dress off down your legs. He purred again as he admired you laying there beneath him, naked spare for your panties, but he surprised you by coming back down to kiss your stomach— not exactly where you expected him to start, but okay— and beginning to move lower and lower…

Oh, fuck. He looked up at you as he kept making his way down, fingers tucking into your panties so he could slide them down your thighs.

Even obviously knowing what was coming, you gasped loudly when his lips latched onto your pussy. “F-fuck!” you choked as his tongue lapped at you eagerly, suction tugging on your clit until your insides throbbed helplessly.

He held onto your legs and pushed his face harder against you, sliding his tongue deeper inside you, shutting his eyes tight while he seemed to feed on your need until you had to grab on to the support beams on either side of your head. You felt him smile down there— cocky little shit— and go even harder.

The pleasure was heavy on your gut, like a weight keeping you pinned down, even though you longed so much to rock up into it for more. “I— oh my god…”

He moaned against you, the most perfect sound muffled by your body, his fingers digging a little harder into your soft skin. He was ruthless, and when you were nearly screaming, he just took it as a sign to go harder on you— he chased your pleasure fast enough that he had it captured in just a few minutes.

“I— I’m— oh god, Eddie,” you whined. “I’m… I’m so close…”

He nodded and hummed against you but refused to slow down for even a second, just shutting his eyes tighter as he focused all his strength into keeping your hips still so he had total control over the way his mouth took you apart piece by piece.

One of your hands shot down and took a tight hold on his hair, but his groan of pain actually sounded rather pleased. “Don’t stop, don’t stop,” you begged, “oh my god—”

Your neck craned back and your spine arched so hard you lifted off the bed for a second, and he just opened his mouth wide and left his tongue stuck out so you could ride it shamelessly, the fireworks going off behind your eyelids as your orgasm shook your body.

You said his name a few more times, not really meaning to but needing to, and his heavy breaths fanned over your flushed skin.

Only when you shakily sank back down into the bed, loosening your grip on his mane, did he break away and sit up to look down at you with a swallow and satisfied sigh.

“What’d you do that for?” you panted, unable to fight your own smile at the sight of his: wide and sparkling with slick that dripped down to his chin.

“‘Cause somebody oughta,” he explained, finally taking his shirt off all the way since you never actually got around to it.

“But I didn’t mean to come so fast…”

“It’s better this way— I already know I won’t be able to last long with you,” he admitted, leaning forward and capturing you in a messy kiss that tasted like— well, I bet you can guess what it tasted like. Wedding cake, of course!

His breathing was heavy, too, as he tried to divide his mental energy between kissing you and unbuttoning his tuxedo pants; once that was done he pushed them down his thighs just enough that he could guide your hand to his aching cock, and you let out a long whimper of a breath as you wrapped your fingers around it. God, it was literally hot, he must be burning up, and the drip of arousal running down made everything all smooth as you ran your fingers over the delicate skin.

“Put it in for me,” he instructed you under his breath, so as he lowered his hips down, you lifted your own a bit and guided him to your opening. He gasped before he was even inside, just feeling your heat on the very tip of his cock; and as he delicately slid in, you groaned and dropped your head back.

A deep satisfaction filled you— literally— when his hips were flush with yours, full to the brim and gasping as he laid down on top of you.

“So perfect,” he breathed as he brushed loose hair away from your face. “I love you so much.”

You really didn’t wanna cry right now, it would be stupid, right? It would be too weird. You reached up and grabbed onto the back of his neck to make him kiss you again. “I love you too,” you replied only when you were ready to say it without your voice breaking.

He started to move, careful and slow, and for some reason you just needed to say it again, mumbled into the kiss.

“I love you,” you repeated, reaching up to hold onto his back. He nodded against you with a sigh of his own.

“I know,” he promised, “I know…”

And even if he knew, it just felt good to finally say it, and not even feel bad about it— not a drop of guilt or regret or self-consciousness. That could wait for the morning.

Holding each other tightly, you found a steady pace— and then it was Eddie’s turn to hold onto one of the beams by your head as he buried his face in your neck. “God,” he grunted, “so fuckin’ wet— you’re dripping for me, sweetheart…”

Whimpering, you let your nails dig into his back and your legs wrap around his hips.

“Fuck,” he moaned, kissing your neck hungrily. The stretch inside you was pleasurable enough, but then with his lips and tongue and teeth on your pulse, a tingling feeling danced up your back and you nearly sobbed from how good it felt. And then he let go of the beam to toy with your hard nipple, and you thought you might lose your cool again right away. “Fuck!” he said again, louder, as he picked up his pace. “Y-you squeezed me so tight, baby, did you feel that? Oh my god…”

You hadn’t felt it, until he made you do it again, and you noticed that time with a wavering cry of his name.

“Promise me something,” he panted as he lifted his head to look down at our face. “Never stop saying my name like that.”

He kissed you before you could properly agree to it, slipping his hands under your back the next time it arched so he could hug you tightly as he thrusted much, much faster.

“Fuck, m’gonna come,” he whimpered, “I’m sorry— I really wanted to last longer, but god, you’re so— you— fuck!”

“S’okay,” you insisted, “just come— oh my god, Eddie, I want you to come—”

“Baby, baby,” he whined pleadingly as his head fell onto your shoulder, “don’t say that, I don’t want it to end so soon…”

“It doesn’t matter,” you promised, “just come, please, inside me—”

“Christ,” he blurted out, taking a tight hold of your hips and tossing his head back as his movements became a blur against your numbing, sticky walls. “I— fuck, you’re sure I don’t have to pull out?”

You nodded as you gripped his arms. “I’m sure, please please Eddie—!”

He gasped loudly and gave you an extra sudden, sharp thrust— and you started to feel it, his cock flexing in you, his heat flooding you, both of you panting as you started to still.

A long sigh accompanied his collapsing onto you, catching his breath between kisses all along your neck and face.

“I really, really tried not to come that fast,” he laughed breathlessly, and you just hugged onto his torso tighter.

“So did I,” you promised. “I-it’s fine, really… I’m definitely satisfied, I mean, fuck— that was… fuck.”

“Yeah…” he agreed.

And you both fell asleep in seconds. Because it was nearly two in the morning and you’d been working on the wedding shit all day and it was actually kind of a miracle you stayed awake long enough to do that in the first place!

You woke up hours later, the only light in the room just slivers of moonlight leaking through the window; he was behind you, holding you close, breathing on the back of your neck. You held on tighter to the arm in front of your chest, leaning your head back into his chest, not expecting him to stir and sleepily plant a kiss on your head.

“Are you awake?” you whispered so softly there was any noise, but he nodded.

“Barely,” he admitted. “You’re so warm…”

He hugged you tighter, then kissed you again— then lifted his head to kiss under your ear, by your jaw, just over your pulse…

You didn’t even mean to grind your ass into him, it was just that what he was doing made your back arch. “Sweetheart,” he breathed, and that made you even hotter. “I need you again.”

It was so easy to slide right in, your body still leaking his come from before, but even without that he could get you wet in seconds; you moaned lowly and tried to arch your back deeper to angle his cock just how you thought you wanted— but he grunted and pulled your back into his chest, wanting to feel as much of you as he could. It made the angle of his thrusts a bit less natural and yet it forced him to rub right against your spot, and you shut your sleepy eyes tighter at the feeling. “Fuck— like that, Eddie, just like that…”

He nodded in agreement and turned his gentle pecks on your shoulder into a full-on assault of tongue on anything he could reach, getting more desperate for you by the second.

That one lasted much longer— maybe hours, you were totally unable to keep track of time, but at some point he rolled you onto your stomach and rutted on top of you slowly. He never had to pick up his pace to send you right into your first orgasm… or the second.

“Oh my god,” you sighed, “I’ll come again, oh fuck—”

“Good,” he praised roughly right into your ear, voice gravelly from sleep, “good— keep coming. Don’t ever stop coming for me, baby, I love feeling it… I love hearing you, sound so fuckin’ pretty, sweetheart.”

You whined and bit your lip, reaching up to grab a handful of your pillow— but his hand reached over yours and interlaced his thick fingers with your shaking ones, soothing kisses trailing the side of your face as you sobbed softly. He kept praising you and you, following instructions, kept coming until it wasn’t really a matter of counting them anymore— it was just this never-ending feeling that swallowed you whole, which would be scary if you were alone. But he was right there with you, promising he’d never let you again.

It ended as gradually and softly as it started, and he hugged you into him for you to fall asleep again much more easily than you’d think after a wake-up like that. When you awoke for good, the sun was high in the sky. You couldn’t see the clock, because you were too busy looking up at his sleeping face, but you guessed it was at least nine or ten. It was the latest you’d slept in years.

You didn’t want to wake him up, but staring at him and playing with his hair didn’t satisfy you forever, so you started to plant tiny kisses on his chest, and that stirred him from sleep with a happy groan.

“Hey,” he greeted, and you weren’t ready to see his eyes again, in the light of the day, knowing how easily you’d given in to him after trying to resist for so many reasons for so long. You weren’t ready to wonder if this was just getting out some pent-up energy before parting for as long as you needed to be regular step-siblings.

You just shut your eyes and laid your head on his bicep as he sat up on his side to look at you.

“Sleep okay?” he asked, and you snorted.

“I mean, I slept great,” you smiled, “when I was sleeping.”

“Me too,” he agreed as he kissed your cheek. “Open your eyes, baby, I wanna see you.”

“Mmm…” you groaned in protest, burying your face in the pillow when he tried to hold it.

“C’mon,” he whined, “I miss you.”

“I’m right here!” you promised, but you gave in and let him turn your face towards him as your eyes blinked open. You were right— you weren’t ready. The way he was looking at you was impossible to ever move on from, and you’d never be able to do it if he asked you to.

“So, are we—?” he started.

“Don’t,” you said quickly, reaching up to lay a hand on his chest. “Don’t ask me what we are, okay? ‘Cause I don’t even know.”

“I… was just gonna ask if we were gonna go out for breakfast or cook ourselves,” he explained, and you felt a heat on your face in embarrassment. “I kinda worked up an appetite there, believe it or not.”

“Oh,” you sighed, “um, I can cook something.”

You made a move to get up and he pulled you back down. “N-no, wait,” he frowned.

“I thought you were hungry,” you noticed.

“Yeah… but I don’t want you to go,” he sighed, keeping you close. There was a brief pause as you laughed softly, his arm wrapping around you. “And also I wanna talk about that thing you don’t wanna talk about.”

“Ugh, Eddie,” you groaned, “can’t it wait a little longer?”

“Sure, but can I at least ask you to be my girlfriend first?” he requested.

“You know I can’t,” you sighed, “I’m already your stepsister.”

“See, here’s the thing— I was thinking about that earlier,” he explained, “and what I realized is that… I don’t actually… care, so—”

“What if I care?” you wondered.

“You can’t exactly make that argument when you’re naked in bed with me,” he noticed.

“Well, maybe it was—”

“Don’t tell me it was a mistake,” he interrupted firmly. “You’re not much of a liar— I was there, sweetheart, we both know that was the farthest thing from a mistake. All the time we spent not doing that was the mistake!”

You smiled, because you couldn’t deny that. Misguided? Sure. Poorly timed? Definitely. But nothing truly wrong could feel that right.

“We don’t have to call it, you know, that,” he offered, “boyfriend and girlfriend— if you don’t want to. As long as we’re together, it’ll be fine.”

“But people can’t know we’re together,” you insisted, “least of all Mom and Wayne.”

He nodded. “Okay.”

“What are we gonna do when they get back?” you wondered.

“Guess I’m gonna have to go—” he reached up and knocked his fist on the slats above you— “back upstairs.”

“I’ll miss you,” you whined, cuddling harder into him.

“Okay, I’ll come down after they go to sleep,” he decided, hugging you tighter as well.

You spent the rest of your week alone together for the honeymoon very… similarly to a honeymoon, actually. Damn near every room in the house was defiled and you were so exhausted you ended up calling in sick to work most days. It was well worth it, obviously; Eddie had so much energy and lost time to make up for, meanwhile you were just happy to let him shower you in affection and bring you in an hour more pleasure than you’d had in the rest of your life combined.

“God, I can’t, I really really can’t,” he insisted as your lips latched onto his neck and your hips grinded in his lap.

“You said that last time,” you remembered.

“I know, but now I mean it!” he sighed, dropping his head onto the back of the couch. “What are you doin’ to me, woman? Trying to kill me?”

“Maybe,” you giggled, licking his neck and purring as you felt the muscles in it shift under your tongue. “Isn’t this how you always wanted to die?”

“Yeah,” he admitted, “but I can’t croak so soon— you’d miss me too much.”

For all his insistence that he couldn’t go again, that ten times in four days was too much, he was guiding your movements in his lap hardly ten minutes later, watching with heavy eyes as you sank down onto his cock over and over.

“Fuck, so pretty,” he breathed, biting his lip while he drank in the sight. Thick hands ran up your thighs as you bounced on him, slipping around to grab palmfuls of your ass while you rode, and you moaned happily.

It’s easy to guess that you got a bit spoiled by that week. Eddie had you addicted to him in moments and kept you around his finger (sometimes literally) so easily. As such, it made you dread even more each day that you got closer and closer to the return of the newlyweds. You couldn’t even imagine going back to normal after this— and what even was ‘normal’ before? You never really had one.

Even if it was just a matter of keeping it a secret, you knew it wouldn’t be easy. Maybe if it had been easier, the plan would’ve lasted a bit longer.

They returned from their trip on a Wednesday afternoon, and you all sat at the table together to talk about how much fun they had and all the fishing and hiking and relaxing they did. It was good to see them again, but even just sitting across the table from Eddie felt odd. Even just being apart that night while you and your mom went out for dinner alone felt odd. Even just sleeping in separate bunks, after you chickened out on sharing from the fear that someone would burst in and see your cuddling, felt odd.

Eddie got up first, but he went to the bathroom to shower and shave before you got up so you couldn’t even try to sneak in a quick good morning kiss. Instead, you started preparing breakfast in the kitchen, taking a break to brush your teeth when the bathroom was free and he was watching TV. Other than offering to make him a piece of toast, you didn’t say much, mainly because you were still kind of waking up.

While you were finishing breakfast preparations you heard Eddie come into the kitchen and step up behind you, but you didn’t say anything, and neither did he for a second— not until he was standing just a bit too close.

“This is way too hard,” he whispered.

“Hm?” you wondered, shivering when his lips gently brushed against your neck in the next moment. “E-Eddie, we can’t—”

“I know,” he agreed under his breath, “that’s what’s so hard. Not being able to touch you, or kiss you, or…”

You were trying to resist, really, but his fingers were just barely tickling your sides through your shirt while his tongue teased your ear and it made your knees a little weak. Okay, a lot weak; you just had to let him spin you around so he could kiss you on the mouth, hard and needy.

You were so caught up by it that you didn’t hear the sound of movement on the other side of the wall. You just reached up to wrap your arms together on top of his shoulders and let him deepen it, tilting your head a bit as you fought back a moan.

He started to guide you back, and you barely questioned it, and the two of you all but fell into the dining room, nearly colliding the table; and it was a good thing you didn’t, since that would’ve put Wayne’s coffee at risk of falling off the table— he, by the way, was sitting at the table next to your mom, something neither of you had taken the time to notice, until the man gruffly cleared his throat to get your attention.

You pulled away from each other with a gasp; Eddie coughed lightly while you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, wide-eyed as you took in the way the two of them were staring at you from their seats at the table.

“Good morning,” Wayne finally offered, and Eddie nodded with a nervous laugh as you tried to decide where to start.

“S-sorry,” you decided to say first, “we were— it’s not— he was just—”

He was just what, helping me decide if I should get a new flavor of toothpaste? He was just saying ‘good morning’ the European way? He was just helping me butter my toast? Oh god, that sounds even worse…

“Oh, you don’t need to act so shy about it,” your mom promised with a tilt of her head, which made you switch from shock to bewilderment. “I actually always thought it was strange you never kissed in front of us before now!”

Eddie raised one of his eyebrows as he looked at her in confusion. “Um… well, we never kissed at all before— before, you know, a couple days ago…”

“Wait, really?” she laughed. “That’s a little odd— being involved all this time and waiting so long to kiss?”

You blinked, choking as you tried to reply to that. “We— we weren’t involved! Until now!”

Wayne tried to cover his smile with his hand, but it couldn’t hide his laugh. Your mom looked at him and then back at you. “What?!” she yelped. “Wayne and I— we were so sure you two were—!”

“No!” you blurted out. “We weren’t… why would you think that?”

“Because it was obvious,” Wayne explained flatly. “We’re old, not stupid.”

“You were so clearly interested in each other!” she went on. “We figured you’d started dating and just didn’t tell us because— well, you didn’t need to! You really weren’t?”

“Of course not!” you insisted. “Mom, we’re— you know… related! Kind of. That doesn’t bother you?”

“It didn’t seem to bother either of you,” she noticed. “But, you’re both adults, you can do what you like. You were classmates long before Wayne and I ever met. People marry their high school sweethearts all the time.”

“O-okay, to be clear,” you stammered, “we went to high school together— but we were not sweethearts.”

Eddie gave you a look, crossing his arms as if he was amused by all this, and you shook your head.

“But— okay, well, thank you, I guess, for your… blessing,” you decided. “And we’ll… try not to kiss in the kitchen too often.”

That night, after saying goodnight to Mom and Wayne, Eddie followed you into your bedroom and shut the door behind you. He sat next to you on your bed, even though you kind of expected him to climb up to his own— but you didn’t have any complaints when he pulled you into a kiss that built quickly in intensity.

You brushed your fingers through his hair (as best you could with how tangled it was) and hummed as he gently held your waist, but when you were afraid you wouldn’t be able to control yourself if it went on much longer, you had to cut it short.

“Wait,” you gasped, pushing him back gently until he stopped and looked at you with big, wide eyes. “We can’t…”

“Why not?” he wondered.

“Because…” you trailed off, finishing your sentence by pointing in the other direction.

“Because…” he repeated, squinting his eyes as he looked where you were pointing. “Because, the wall? Aw, babe, I know I get a little carried away but I don’t think the walls are gonna collapse.”

“No, the other side of the wall,” you sighed.

“The bathroom?”

“The other side of that.”

“...the water heater?”

“Eddie!” you whined. “The other side of that!”

“The master bedroom, final answer,” he nodded. “What— Mr. and Mrs. Munson? What about ‘em?”

“Um, their… presence?” you clarified, not sure what he wasn’t getting.

“If they know we’re together then we don’t have to hide it,” he pointed out.

“That doesn’t mean I wanna fuck with them in the house,” you returned with a frown.

“I’m sure they’ll understand,” he smirked, “you know— if the bunk bed’s a-rockin’, don’t come a-knockin’ or something like that.”

“That’s… not a saying.”

“Okay, but, close enough,” he pouted.

“Still not having sex with you while our parents are home,” you insisted. He didn’t seem too disappointed, though— actually, a mischievous smile grew on his face as he looked at you.

“I noticed something,” he informed you. You raised your eyebrows and waited. “Your mom said people marry their high school sweethearts all the time. You said we weren’t sweethearts.”

“Yeah,” you agreed.

“But you didn’t tell her we weren’t getting married.”

Your eyes went wide and you bit your lip; he looked way too fucking proud of himself as he leaned in closer and poked you teasingly in the stomach with his fingers. You tried to lean away or cover yourself with crossed arms but it wasn’t working, and neither were your attempts to stifle your laughter.

“You’re soooo into me,” he noticed in a playfully mocking voice. “You wanna get maaarriiieeeddd—”

“N-no, I don’t,” you denied with an eye roll, “I— I just didn’t notice she said that.”

“You wanna have my baaaabbiiieeesss,” he continued anyways, and you nearly choked on your own throat.

“E-Ed, we’re too young for any of that right now,” you insisted.

“Okay,” he nodded, pausing for a second. “How about now?”

You snorted, shaking your head at your own amusement with such a stupid joke. “No, I mean, like, the future.”

“Future,” he affirmed, “as in, tomorrow?”

“No!” you groaned. “Like, someday!”

“Sunday?”

You whined and dropped your head on Eddie’s shoulder in defeat, making him laugh and reach up to rub your back. “You’re horrible,” you mumbled.

“Mhm,” he agreed as he softly kissed the top of your head. “Just promise me something?”

You lifted your head to rest your chin on his shoulder so he could see your face; he reached up and held it gently, caressing the height of your cheek with his thumb.

“You tell me when it’s ‘someday’, okay?” he asked softly. “I don’t care if it’s ten days from now or ten years. You just say the word, and we’ll do all that boring grown up stuff we’re not old enough for yet. Deal?”

You smiled and nodded. “Okay.”

He hummed and kissed the tip of your nose before gently capturing your lips again, holding your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Oh,” he said suddenly as he pulled back, “by the way— you can keep my ring you took.”

“I… thought you forgot about that,” you admitted sheepishly, and he grinned, shaking his head.

“Of course not,” he cooed, “but it’s better that you have it, since you wanna be the next Mrs. Munson so bad.”

“I don’t—!” you began to disagree, but he cut you off with another kiss.

Someday came January 19th, 1988. It was a quiet day, but otherwise typical for life in your little rental place up in North Hawkins by the lake, which was usually filled with Eddie's raucous practicing on the Warlock alongside the hand-me-down furniture and framed (award-winning) photos on the wall.

Nothing specific made you realize it— he was just laying back on the couch and fiddling around on his acoustic (specifically his new acoustic you'd gotten him for his most recent birthday) while you arranged and rearranged the magazine spread due in a few days— but you just… knew that it was time.

“Wanna get married?” you blurted out, and he looked at you with a tinge of shock on his face before he smiled.

“You know I do,” he grinned. “Hop in the van, we’ll go to the courthouse—”

You interrupted him with a laugh as he was sitting up and setting his guitar aside. “I figured we would just start, like, planning it…”

He groaned disappointedly as he flopped back onto the couch. “You make me wait this long and then you say we have to wait more?”

“You don’t want a wedding?!” you scoffed.

“I do, but I’d rather get married now and just do the wedding whenever we have the time,” he explained. “Doesn’t it sound fun?”

You smirked. “Well, I figured once we were married you’d want kids right away. And I’m not interested in a maternity-bridal gown.”

“Y’sure? I think you’d be real cute like that,” he cooed.

"I think you should keep dreamin', pretty boy," you winked in return.

He hopped up off the couch and crossed the room to kiss you suddenly— holding your face in his hands, keeping you close, saying so much with no words at all. You fell into it so quickly that you were the one leaning forward for more when he pulled back. He smirked at you proudly; "So, courthouse?"

You sighed. "How come you always get your way with me? Why is that?"

"'Cause you're just so wildly, stupidly, counter-intuitively in love with me," he answered confidently.

"Oh, right," you smiled. "I almost forgot."

Eddie cleared his throat as he stood before all your family and friends— Jonathan, the Hellfire club, your coworkers and colleagues, your mom and stepdad, and even Eddie's father who had been granted furlough so he could attend. A small gathering, but still a crowd. You could tell he was nervous; you were, too, of course, and you looked down at your white dress and your hands holding his to try to remind yourself that this was real.

"Well, um, hi," he addressed them before he began the vows he'd written and rehearsed a thousand times for today. "Bet you never thought you'd see me in a suit, right?"

THE END

#eddie munson x reader #stepbrother!eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut

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just-like-playing-tag · 3 years

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A Letter from Norman reactions

Tonight I was feeling like reorganizing the notes I took after reading the novel for the first time. Just some random personal reactions I had after reading it; if anything catches your attention and you'd like to know more about a particular event from the novel, please feel free to ask and I'll be happy to help!!!

Under the cut because it's l o n g. That is, if Tumblr allows me to add a "read more", which has never happened before, but I'll keep hoping in it.

• Disclaimer: I'm suing anyone who ever said that the novel is all about NorEmma. I've literally put off reading it because I didn't want to get into something overly romantic while there's??? Nearly nothing about it that is romantic??????? Just a slight mention in that last chapter and that's it???????? Why are y'all like this

Prologue

• I need you all to know that the important letter™ through which Norman informed Emma about his plan starts with him describing the weather. I just think it's a relevant information.

• Ok I'm at freaking page 1 of “A letter from Norman” and. NORMAN IT'S A FREAKING LETTER TO EMMA NOT A SHAKESPEAREAN PLAY THERE'S LITERALLY NO REASON TO BE THIS POETIC

Maybe, I would get it if it was directed to Ray, but to Emma?????

Chapter 1

• Emma in 2038: Let's befriend ghosts

Emma in 2047: let's befriend demons

Seems like a logic consecution to me

• Ok but why has nobody ever mentioned the extremely precious Emma / Gilda moments in the novel???? My heart was completely melting that was the most adorable thing I've ever read??????

• The way Norman is constantly in awe of Ray is so adorable... Baby is so sweet I swear, he deserves the world

Chapter 2

• OK BUT THE SWEET EXCHANGE between Ray and Isabella before him and Emma go out at night?????? Ray is so pure is swear... He's a precious baby who didn't deserve all the shit he went through.

Reporting it in case anyone's curious; for context, Norman is sick, and Emma wants to go out look for a flower that she's read is going to help him feel better. Emma and Ray are convinced that Norman is going to die because babies are just that dramatic, and easily impressionable as well. They're seven here.

“ «Ray, I'm counting on you!»

Isabella pressed an hand on the boy's shoulder, who turned his face to her and diligently nodded, before continuing: «Differently from Emma, I don't think the flower is going to help Norman heal».

«What do you mean?»

«However, it's better than having to sit back and watch without doing anything. I too, like her, want him to heal as soon as possible.»

«Sure, I understand...» ”

NOW that hits so hard. You have to understand, this is after Ray had made the deal with Isabella. He had already started to plan the escape. In this occasion, he was on a very thin line: alone at night with Emma, outside the House, a child who knew the truth. Isabella knew those were the right conditions for him to attempt an escape, so she decided to test his loyalty; one misstep, and their deal - which was fundamental for the escape Ray was planning - would have ended.

But at the same time, Ray needed to go. Because, just like Emma, he just couldn't stand to lose Norman. And to see these three children caring so deeply about each other even at such a young age makes me honestly bawl. This is quite certainly my favorite thing from this series. And Ray deserves the world.

• Ray was so determined to save his two friends, he even considered for a moment, in the woods, to tell Emma the truth about the orphanage. I find it very nice how the novel hinted of all these times Ray almost revealed the truth, it really puts emphasis on how he was trying to find the best moment for the escape- but it also hints to how desperate he was to share this grievous burden he was forced to carry for the longest time.

• “ Ray, you must keep on living, Norman whispered to himself like a prayer. ”

I'm... I'M 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

Doesn't help the fact that this bit was literally at the end of pages of Norman praising Ray and how brave he had been for so long.

• “ Nobody in the House would have wanted for Ray to pay with his life to amend the silence of all those years. ”

I love this bit. Nobody between the children ever hated Ray for speechlessly assisting to dozens of his siblings being lead to death, because they all immediately understood how much he was suffering, how powerless he must had felt, and also, even though it only led to him being even more hurt, how deeply he loved them all. It's really nice to realize that no children ever hated Ray- no one besides from himself. His siblings love him unconditionally, and that's precisely what he deserves 🤧🤧💕💕💕

• Norman: *adventures in a detailed description of Ray's features and gestures for no other apparent reason than the fact that he finds him pretty*

Chapter 3

• Ok I know people use to see Ray and Susan's interactions under the light of Ray having a crush on her but honestly? I think they make the cutest brotp. I never knew how much I needed Ray-having-an-older-sister content untill now.

• For real though!! What hits you really hard is to find out, even though he would had never ever showed it, how desperate he was to have somebody care about him, and to be loved. He literally grieves for losing someone that looks after him and is there to check on him in his lowest days- we know it's the thing Isabella never gave him. Man, this boy didn't deserve all the shit that happened to him. Tpn may have become an old known story for me, but Ray's sufferings in his early age will never stop tearing my heart apart.

• Ok, I wasn't ready for all this angst on Ray's part. I mean, I obviously know GF were hard times for him, but I didn't expect for him to take over the pov. Sis, how wrong I was. Now I'm crying.

• Coming to the realization that Ray's initial plan actually was to bring everyone in the escape, but he clearly had to give up on it after having realized it would have been impossible to save them 🥺🥺🥺

(I mean it was not impossible. He believed it was. But it wasn't.)

• Ok but. The last part of the Ner chapter. I really don't want to spoil it for anyone because it really was a beautiful chapter but I really need to say: Emma and Norman. The way it wasn't just Ray always being there for them, protecting them from afar; no matter their blissful ignorance, they have always been there for him too. They never abandoned that lonely boy, and they made it so that he could have a last reason not to give up. A single, dim light of hope in that pitch black, devastating world he was born in. I may or may not be crying my eyes out.

(Btw I had written this before the Ray special chapter came out, and it's kinda funny to look back at it now)

• The thing with the Ner chapter is: you enter in it after reading two chapters of normal, wholesome children's stories. There's a dark undertune in it, but it's very subtle and it doesn't interfere with the happy, cheerful atmosphere of these children facing adventures together with each other. But then the Ner chapter strikes, and the Ray pov arrives, and it's like being beaten with a bat in the stomach several times. Deep down, you had always known it; but you suddenly realize that all these children are going to die. And, even worse, there's one child who knows. There's one child who has to assist to everything powerlessly. There's one child, one freaking-nine-years-old who knows that all his siblings are going to die, and there's nothing he can do. That a single mistake could ruin the chances of making just two of his siblings survive, which is everything he's hanging to right now. One child who only needs to be loved. Well that... That hits hard.

Me expressing my thoughts: girl this form is shit you can't write something that is understandable to save your life can you

• Also can we please appreciate Norman taking so long to get out of the forest as it's a recurrent characterizzation of his character to be desperately willing to live just *French chef kiss*

• I really like how the novel underlined how Norman's choice of sacrificing himself corresponded to a betrayal toward his friends (when you think about it, Emma definitely felt betrayed). It's almost like in his last moments Norman chose to switch roles with Ray, taking on his shoulders the burden of being both the traitor and the sacrifice.

Chapter 4

• Norman: * “ He instinctively closed his eyes and abandoned himself to the sweet memory of that time he understood how deeply loved he was. ” *

Somewhere, Ray: Can't relate

• Emma: Norman, what you want to do when you grow up?

Norman: It's a secret.

Me:

• “ Ray woke up before everyone, as usual. ”

A remarkable detail. You'd think Ray, as a good depressed person as he is, would sleep more than the average. The truth is: he doesn't sleep at all.

• Norman: There's... Another person I like

Me:

• OK NOW WHY did none tell me about the nine (9) lines of Norman / Don interacting it was worth reading the novel solely for that.

• WHY DID NONE TELL ME ABOUT DON ALMOST STRANGLING NORMAN AND MAKING HIM LITERALLY PASS AWAY IT WAS TOTALLY WORTH READING THE NOVEL SOLELY FOR THAT

• Reading about Conny being there hurts a lot but reading about Sadie and Hao brings up a totally different kind of pain. Also who the hell is Cindy?

• Norman: Oh yes, Emma and Ray, my most dear friends, my closest siblings, the reason I wake up in the morning, my only reason to live, the ones I'd entrust my life with,

Also Norman: Dunnot in the last thirteen hours and six minutes they have been acting pretty sus, I'm kinda sure they're betraying me somehow ://

• “ «I agree, but it feels like you've fallen down a rabbit hole. You're restless, you constantly look off...» said the raven haired boy, distorting his mouth in an hardly intelligible grimace and giving his friend a meaningful look.

«Norman, about that mysterious girl...»

«No, you're mistaken! I...»

Norman, filled with frustration, raised up his voice, starting to lose the coolness that was usually characteristic of him.

«But I haven't said anything yet!»

That being said Ray, with slightly mocking doing, turned on his feet and went away, leaving Norman like that. ”

I LOVE THIS BIT SO INEXPLICABLY MUCH I'm always *so* in for Oreo finishing each other sentences / reading each other's thoughts. Here, Norman answered Ray's question before he could even expose it, because he already knew what it would have been. Equally, Ray knew what Norman was going to say even though he cut his answer halfway through.

I love how much on the same page they are, they really... Totally and fully understand each other even without words, and I find it so sweet. Seriously, their dynamic is so wholesome

• Norman's last birthday gift: the thing that matters the most to him: his family's happiness

Emma's reward: the thing that matters the most to her: her family's happiness

Some things hit harder than others.

• I don't know like. When you read the novel after the series has ended, everything hurts so much more, because you know these are all memories Emma has lost forever.

• So you made colorful clothing by "coloring old clothes"? Have fun realizing y'all have celebrated Norman's birthday wearing your dead siblings' clothes

Bonus this epic note I randomly took I completely forgot the context of:

• Isabella is a bitch. I don't give a fuck about your dramatic past woman, leave that boy alone

(When the protect Ray mood hits™)

#tpn #the promised neverland #a letter from norman #tpn norman #tpn emma #tpn ray #full score trio #oreo #tpn analysis #mine #I don't even like Stark I just used the gif for the sake of reactions #I should have used facepalming Ray™ instead #Let me know if you want my reactions for the second novel as well!!!#tpn novels

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punkscowardschampions · 3 years

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Jac & Amelia

Jac: Are you okay? My parents would've paid for a cab if they weren't sober enough to drive you back Amelia: My dad was [somewhere nearby cos JJ live in town] Jac: Oh, right Jac: you seized your opportunity then, alright Jac: Is still should've gone with to make sure Amelia: I didn't want her to, she was in too excitable a mood Jac: lol, can't really fault you that Jac: you got a headache, yeah? Amelia: I got the aura so I knew it was time to leave, last time I ignored that I was sick everywhere Jac: That's fair Jac: you do not want that unless you've had a really wild night Amelia: sorry I didn't say bye Jac: well that's okay, if you didn't have time Jac: we were just worried Amelia: is Is okay? I was probably a bit rude to her Jac: Don't worry, she seems fine Jac: you know her Amelia: yeah Amelia: alright cool Jac: make sure you stay hydrated, yeah Jac: and no more screentime Amelia: I'll 😴 it off if I can Jac: Sounds like a plan 🙂 Amelia: it sounds 😕 but I couldn't stay Jac: you can't help that you get migraines Jac: it must be so crap for you Amelia: we've all got crap to deal with Amelia: I wouldn't swap Sav for hers Jac: 😢 I know Jac: she deals so well, considering how fresh it all is Amelia: Where's her boyfriend at? It's not technically a night you can get away with chucking fireworks at your mates or cars Jac: Out on the lash with his mates Jac: or something Amelia: very supportive Jac: yeah, I know Jac: oh well, she had us Amelia: you, you mean Jac: are you not her friend too? Amelia: that's up for debate, but she'd win it over me Amelia: so it probably depends what she wants the answer to be Amelia: and who's asking Jac: She definitely views you as a friend Amelia: okay Jac: No, come on, you don't think she does? Amelia: I know she doesn't Jac: Why do you think that? Amelia: I know it because she's said a handful of words to me lately & all of them are in some way bitchy or patronising Jac: How many have you said to her? Jac: and how nice have you been to her? Amelia: I don't like her, I'm not going to act like I do Jac: Then the issue is a you thing, isn't it Jac: Savannah does like you, and it's not really on to say you know otherwise, simply because that's how you feel about her Amelia: no, it's a me and her clash Amelia: it isn't one-sided Jac: Okay, if you say so Jac: but I don't see her trying to start anything with you, and like I said, I've told you she's told me privately that she likes you Jac: she knows you aren't her biggest fan though Amelia: she would say that to you Jac: Now you're being ridiculous Amelia: no I'm not, she wants me to look like I'm the dickhead and it's clearly working Jac: well no, what she wants is friends who can support her through this tough time and not make her life any more shit Jac: I really do not think she has the time, never mind the desire, to play games to make you look like some kind of villain ??? Jac: we seriously do not need to be that dramatic about things Amelia: fine Jac: it clearly isn't but I'm not going to agree with you Jac: you're not feeling well right now, you're just lashing out Amelia: you sound as patronising as her now Jac: for giving you an excuse for your behaviour? Jac: it's being gracious Amelia: I don't need to be fucking excused Amelia: I haven't done anything wrong Jac: You're being rude to Savannah and now you're being rude to me Jac: you're attacking and saying you're being attacked Jac: just calm down and we can come back to this when you aren't in such a state Amelia: yeah because she's the only one whose dramatics you indulge Amelia: I haven't been rude to her, I've made an effort Amelia: it doesn't change my opinion Jac: You're accusing her of having some plot right now, also of not liking you, being bitchy and patronising...yeah, that's rude, Amelia Jac: and oddly enough, when she went off crying, it was not about you Jac: call it dramatics if you want, but I'd say her home life situation warrants more empathy and listening to than whatever this idea, about us being against you or something, that you've concocted does Amelia: I'm not on her radar when she isn't subtly slagging me off or wishing I'd fuck off, obviously it wasn't about me Amelia: the latter is way less subtle though Jac: You're right in that I'm not indulging this Jac: you're just wrong, that's it Jac: but if you won't listen to reason, and me, then there's nothing else I can do to change your mind Amelia: you wanting me to be wrong doesn't make me wrong Jac: you having no proof for her dislking you, bar the fact you dislike her, doesn't make it true Jac: if you want to walk around thinking people have a problem with you when they don't, that's your call Jac: it's sad but it's clearly an internal issue Amelia: there's proof in every group chat if you want to go back & read it Jac: the fact you're in a group chat together, to plan to do stuff, to talk, kinda negates that Amelia: no it doesn't Jac: totally, when you hate someone and want them to fuck off, you choose to spend time talking to them when you don't have to Amelia: she doesn't spend any time talking to me Jac: well it isn't a private chat Jac: do you expect her to ignore me and Is? Jac: if you wanna have a 1x1 she'd be more than happy, like Amelia: Oh, she ignores Is plenty Amelia: but that's not my fight to have Jac: 🙄 I can assure you, we understand how DMs work Jac: if we wanted to talk just us, we would, and do Jac: and Is seems fine to me, like I said Amelia: great Jac: 🤷 okay then Amelia: 👋 Jac: I hope you feel better when you wake up Amelia: thanks Jac: Night Amelia: goodnight Jac: [hope you do go to sleep so you don't see those gay ass stories] Amelia: [you know she will because she's not actually sick soz gal] Jac: [i mean, you do have 24 hours so bit of a long shot when you're this in love lol] Amelia: [everyone gonna be seeing it including Ty who has been lowkey ignored all night as well] Amelia: [we should say she writes something but then deletes it so Jac only knows she deleted it for the sheer gay drama of it] Jac: [none of y'all got invites to this sleepover, but yes 1000%] Jac: ? Amelia: 🤨 Jac: butt-dial? Amelia: why would I be sitting on my phone? Amelia: I'm not thrashing about with a 🤒 Jac: I don't know why you'd delete a message either Jac: unless you sent me something really 💦 meant for someone else, in which case I wanna know anyway Amelia: I can nurse myself Amelia: though there are loads of lads who would put me to sleep Jac: 🙀 Amelia! Amelia: no Amelia: 🥱 NOT whatever you're thinking Jac: Sure 😉😂 Amelia: 😣 Jac: So grouchy Jac: I'd know if you were texting someone Amelia: would you? Jac: of course Jac: what secret have you ever kept from me? Amelia: I didn't need to before Jac: you don't need to now Jac: you aren't going to shock me with your thirst Amelia: I'm staying hydrated like you instructed Amelia: there's nothing to tell, which is why I pressed delete Jac: What did you say? Amelia: if I repeat it there was literally no point in deleting it Amelia: so no, nothing Jac: Well why did you? Amelia: because it's 😳 Jac: how 😳 can it be Jac: we've known each other at our most cringe Amelia: that was us both being awkward not just me making a massive tit of myself Jac: rude Jac: you're meant to disagree Amelia: alright, I'll lie Jac: you're already being very sneaky, you may as well Amelia: okay Jac: no, tell me, dickhead! Amelia: rude Jac: you're rude Jac: you know you can't just take back a message Amelia: I have & I win Jac: you can't do it without leaving evidence Jac: and I'm not just going to drop it Amelia: 🙄 Jac: why are you saying shit to my virtual face then Amelia: how else am I supposed to speak to you? Jac: I'm not going to apparate into your room 'cos you fancy having a go Jac: don't be a baby, what did you say Amelia: maybe I was saying sorry but you're so undeserving I took it back Amelia: that'd be fitting Jac: oh right, your whole conspiracy theory Jac: you forgot for a hot sec you believed in that, yeah, sure Amelia: it's typical of you to only give a shit about what I'm trying to say when I'm not saying it anymore Jac: you left without saying anything earlier Jac: then you wouldn't speak to me 'cos you were in a huff but yeah, pop off Amelia: I didn't have time to search your 🏠 for you earlier Jac: and I said it was okay but don't act like I was ignoring you Amelia: you were Amelia: but I get it, Savannah's in greater need Jac: oh my God, do you actually get it though Jac: like could you Jac: because this is really gross Amelia: of course I do, her parents are mental and it's horrible Jac: I mean, nicely put Jac: so you don't need to be snippy with me about needing to spend like 10 minutes alone so she can talk about it without my whole family standing around Amelia: I was the one who told you, ages ago, so you already know what I mean Amelia: and I'm not, I'm explaining why I left without saying anything before you hold it against me any harder Jac: you aren't just explaining though, because that was never the question Jac: you said I was ignoring YOU Jac: I said it was fine you left, you had a migraine Amelia: because it's not just about 10 minutes alone so she can cry on your shoulder and you fucking know it's not Jac: you don't like her Amelia: she takes over everything, including my birthday Jac: She was just trying to make sure you had a nice time Amelia: then why didn't I? Amelia: if she really cares so much about what I want, why wasn't it perfect? Jac: She's not a miracle worker Jac: I'm just saying she tried, can you fault someone for having good intentions? Amelia: she cares about you two having a good time, she doesn't try with me Amelia: because guess what, chucking money at something doesn't actually count Amelia: you used to know that Jac: you can't say how much she does or doesn't try Jac: maybe she's really trying, and I happen to think she is, and I've got it on better authority than you Jac: as you said, it's not as if she's had close friends before really Jac: you could give her a break instead of being ungrateful about it Amelia: you could give me a break Jac: no, you're being mean Jac: and blaming her for problems you're having Jac: like how dare she treat you? Amelia: the problem is that you used to care how I feel about things and apparently now you don't Jac: I can care without indulging pointless bitchery Jac: if you told me what was actually wrong with you, I'd listen, I'd do whatever I could to help, you know that Amelia: no, you're not listening Jac: You aren't saying anything Jac: you keep slagging Savannah off, and I counter that and then you stop Jac: what is actually going on Amelia: I've been saying the same thing this entire time, for fuck's sake Jac: When you wanna say what's actually going on with you, and think about that in a way that doesn't involve Savannah Jac: then I'm here waiting Amelia: I don't want to spend time with her, I want to spend it with you Amelia: Why can't we literally EVER? Why does she have to be involved in literally everything? Jac: We do spend time without her Jac: but we can't exclude her when she wants to be involved, she's our friend Amelia: she's not my friend Amelia: I'm trying, I am Jac: okay, she's my friend though Jac: we can spend time together, alright Amelia: okay Jac: pick a day, pick something to do, let me know Amelia: sure, put me on the spot Jac: 🙄 god, not RIGHT now Jac: but give me something more committal than that 'okay' or it won't happen Amelia: okay!! Amelia: are you happy now? Amelia: I just said how much I miss you Jac: like I'm that desperate for attention, again, rude Amelia: clearly not if I have to be the one begging you for yours Jac: oh hush Jac: I invited you to something like, literally 5 seconds ago Jac: you were the one that ruined it with your 🤕 Amelia: I didn't mean to ruin anything Jac: I'm joking Jac: I'll survive Amelia: I'm serious Amelia: and sorry, obviously Jac: it's fine, actually fine Jac: you shouldn't worry about it Amelia: if you want me to try harder, I'll try harder, alright Jac: I'd appreciate it Jac: I think she would too, and you Jac: getting along would just be easier Jac: you don't have to be like, her own personally cheerleader Amelia: I can't work miracles either Jac: you said you'd try Jac: I don't know why it's so hard for you but I can't really ask more than that Amelia: you really don't get it? Jac: No, I really don't Amelia: okay Jac: I'll leave you to it Amelia: bye again Jac: You have planning to do Amelia: you love a competition Amelia: what happens if I lose? Jac: What competition? Jac: I'm not planning anything Amelia: so it's a test instead Amelia: it's the same question Jac: we can still hang out, as you asked Jac: I'll just be bored if you pick something boring, I suppose Amelia: when have I EVER picked anything boring? Jac: 🤷 Jac: we'll see Amelia: don't 🤷 at me Amelia: you've never been bored Jac: you're so touchy 😂 Jac: I can't do anything Friday, by the way, so don't pick Friday Amelia: do you want to assign me a day? Jac: Probably Sunday Jac: I'm working after school every other day Jac: Saturday is up in the air right now Amelia: alright Jac: free time is just not a thing I have Amelia: I know, I'm not touchy about that bit Jac: I'm not going to sit here and tell you you're not boring, Amelia Jac: what kind of midlife crisis Amelia: Shut up, I don't need that from you Amelia: I'm well aware Jac: 👉😠 Amelia: you don't need to teach me sign language either Jac: you're gonna side with the 12 year old asshole on that, are you Jac: yeah that's about right mentality wise 🙄 Amelia: according to you there aren't any sides, we're all friends and everything is 🌹y Amelia: so no Jac: Jude isn't our friend, she's my sister and she's a little bitch sometimes Amelia: yeah, again, I know Amelia: Savannah's the one who needs family introductions Jac: She knows who everyone is Jac: you're being so whiny, it's just annoying now Amelia: leave me to it then, that's what you said you were going to do Jac: Yeah, and I definitely will now Jac: christ, is it any wonder I'm not electing to spend time with just you Jac: think about it Amelia: It's already all I think about Amelia: I don't want to fight with you Jac: it's not hard, Amelia Jac: as I said, Savannah doesn't devote her time to bitching about you, or anyone else Jac: nor does she walk around with a massive strop on all the time Amelia: I'm sorry Amelia: what do you want me to say? Jac: Just stop acting like this Amelia: I'm not acting like anything, that's the problem Amelia: it's how I feel Jac: You're gonna have to sort it out Jac: it's not healthy for you Jac: or good for us or anyone else Amelia: I said I'll try Jac: you've got to Jac: it's for your own best interest Amelia: yeah Jac: yeah Amelia: 👋

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