#Courtingchaos

[hellfiremunsonn]

Adam Sandler is attractive and you should say it LOUDER.

I LOVE YOU FOR THIS OH MY GOD

I DON’T KNOW WHAT IT IS ABOUT HIM

HIM IN HAPPY GILMORE????? IS MY FAVOURITE 

[wroteclassicaly]

🧡🎃🖤

BYEEEE! I’ll be there with bells on, babydoll! I love you 😘

[stvharrngton]

Literally please don’t apologize for not writing. You just got through your 1k celebration??? Like, darling take a knee please. You deserve a breather ❤️

you’re such an angel thank you ily 😭💖

[chaoticoffin]

MEG MY LOVE HOW Are you AoUw8wgs9wga9agdiwvwisbsoabwisbdiebeieh

THIS WAS FUCKING SUPERB. FROM THE TEASING IN THE STORE, THE WAY EDDIE GOT HIMSELF SO WORKED UP HE WAS MAD, THE MEAN BARISTA COMING OUT, HIM PURPOSELY BEING MOUTHY

SHE WAS IN THE BATHROOM SO LONG BECAUSE SHE WAS FUCKING HEUDITBFOBEZIBSIBEKSJS WHY DID THAT DETAIL BLOW MY MIND.

When he was so desperate to show he was a good boy and she said how good he looked. I CAN'T. so fucking DESPERATE.

When she was lost in thought and he was fucking himself on her???? EXCUSE.

I 😭

This. I really need to calm down to compose myself and leave you a really nice comment but I don't know how. I simply don't.

This bit, his leg lifting up, dazed, dick drunk. 🥵🥵🥵🥵🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠

I feel the need to wreck something I'm so orhdiwhsid feral for this. I NEED to let out this energy you've created in me.

Babe this was SO INCREDIBLE. Your writing always gets me, each piece leaves a mark on me. This one was so sweet but filthy, the love confession at the end.

I'm 🫠🫠🫠🫠

iloveyou you're magnificent.

Strawberry

Pairing: Line Cook!Eddie x Barista Fem!Reader

Summary: Eddie lets slip that he wants something from you, and you’re more than happy to oblige. 😉

Word Count: 6.8k

A/N: Alright, a little explanation. This is technically the fourth installment for this little AU. I just…haven’t finished the other two yet. So if some of this feels like it was maybe pre-established? It is, just in another document that y’all will be able to see soon…ish. Also! This is my first pegging fic, so I ask some mercy for any inaccuracies/issues you may find! Strawberry is the safeword.

Warnings: Pegging! Eddie is being pegged by Reader, A little dom reader if you squint, oral (male receiving), mentions of alcohol, language.

18+ NSFW No Minors Allowed or Wanted

“Okay, so what am I looking for here?”

“Dildos.”

“Yeah, I meant on the wall.” You smirk at Eddie while he gives you a disappointed stare.

“Oh hardy har har.”

You laugh at him and he tries to hit you with a bottle of lube. There’s a small tussle that follows and the poor clerk at the register looks over the screen and clears her throat at the two of you. “Y’all good?” You hide your face in Eddie’s shoulder while he tries his best to straighten out. He nods and waves at the clerk and then slaps your shoulder when you keep shaking against him.

“Would you fuckin’ behave?!”

“Never! You brought me into a sex shop to shop for dildos, what do expect from me?”

“Class?” He says, turning you around to face the wall of silicon again. You snort and grab the bright pink dildo in front of you.

“Is this what you had in mind?” You push it into his chest and he turns it over, staring at the front of the package.

“It’s only 5 inches, you think I can’t handle more?” You know he’s kidding, but you can see the pink blush on his ears where he’s starting to embarrass himself. You decide to push it further since this afternoon is turning into one long bit anyways.

“Oh baby, you couldn’t handle what I’d like to give you.” Your tongue lolls out of your mouth and you grab at his hip, pretending to hump the side of him while his face flushes. “Aww,” You lean in close and push your nose into his rapidly heating cheek, “You gettin’ all hot and bothered?”

“Maybe.” He looks sidelong at you when your fingers creep under his t-shirt and graze his stomach. You smush your face in more and laugh into his cheek while he shoves the box back on the shelf. “Listen, you wanna pick this out or not?”

“Oh no no, this wasn’t my idea.”

“Well if you don’t want to do it, we don’t have to.” He drops his smile to give you a serious look. You know he means it, always does when it comes to your shared comfort but he’s not getting away that easy. You grab him by the belt loops and pull him behind a pillar, out of the direct view of the cashier.

“I’m sorry, you think you’re just going to casually mention that you’ve been thinking about me pegging you and then try and back out of it?” He looks down at you and tries to stop the smile creeping out across his face. “No, I am absolutely going to do this but it’s your pick Eddie.” You nod your head over to the wall. “I want you to choose.”

He rolls his eyes but turns to look again while you wind your arms around him from behind to hold him tight. You trail along behind while he wanders the store, showing you stuff over his shoulder while you nod in approval or tell him no. You keep your chin hooked on his trap so you can stay close to his neck, your breath whispering over his skin when you reply to him. Your hands wander, light fingertips bunching up his shirt a bit to drag across his hip.

He’s a little bit of a mess in this tiny store. Between you talking softly in his ear about the various toys and the gentle kisses you place on his bare skin, he’s sweating.

“Are you trying to start something?” He whispers to you when you point out the grouping of handcuffs.

“Isn’t that the point of this little errand?”

“Kind of, I just didn’t think you’d be so into this.”

“Fucking you? Eddie, that’s all I think about now.”

“Hey that’s my line.” He says that a little more breathy than he means to and watches your eyes light up. You bare your teeth, snapping playfully at him. It’s a good thing his hands are full because he wants to drag you out of the store and shove you in the backseat of his truck. Obviously you can tell he has an idea so you grab some stuff from him and gesture to the register, mischief in your eyes. “You ready?”

The plain black paper bag sits in the corner of his room taunting him while the universe actively works against him. He’d gotten called in twice and you’d had to stay late every night this week, resulting in no time for anything remotely fun. You’d only gotten as far as looping the black harness around your hips, trying to figure out what belt tightened around which leg. He’s only got fantasy fueling him through the week, the image of you turning around in the full length mirror inspecting your new accessory the fuse for all his thoughts.

It’s the end of your week, a late Sunday and he knows when you show up you’ll be tired and quiet and looking for a shower. He’s already started dinner, having gotten out of work on time himself for once, just so you don’t have to worry about it. He is however, still stuck on the bag and the items therein.

This isn’t his first time getting fucked, but it is his first time doing it with you. He hasn’t really trusted anyone like this in a long time and he’d let it slip one night, a too hot shower and your hands in his hair making him comfortable and vulnerable and he’d been just drunk enough to slur the thought out. You’d been quiet at first, fingers still sudsing through his curls and nails scratching at his scalp. He’d tried to take it back until you’d shushed him and dragged your hands down his chest, leaving one lying flat while the other wrapped confidently around his cock.

“You want me to fuck you?” Words hushed under the spray from the shower head. All he can do is nod, throat sticking when he tries to make a sound. You move your hand slowly up and down and he tilts his forehead into yours to watch, mesmerized and drunk on you and a good handful of cocktails. “Hmm?” You purr at him, raising the hand on his stomach up to tilt his head back enough so he can see your eyes. “Whatcha gotta say to that big guy?”

His laugh turns into a gasp when your hand speeds up and your fingertips dig into the side of his jaw. You’re holding him in place, watching him twitch and moan under your hands. He’s edged closer than he thought, the coil of heat springing to life low in his belly.

“I’m serious Eddie, tell me.” Your smile is dangerous, a glint of teeth under the sweetness. He grabs at your neck to steady himself and to try to bring you in for a kiss but you hold tight. Keep his head in your grasp and your lips just out of reach. “Tell me you want me to fuck you and I’ll let you kiss me.” The hand on his cock slows down. He groans long and low and his grip tightens behind your head. You squeeze around the fat head of him and he can still smell the liquor on your breath when you talk. “Tell me and I’ll let you cum.”

“Fu-ck please, god damnit.”

“Huh?” You’re being cruel and he’s lapping it up. He’s been waiting to see this mean side of you, knew it was in there somewhere.

“Please…fuck, I want you to fuck me.”

You lean in and drop the hand on his face so he can crowd you against the shower wall. The kiss is bruising, all teeth and slipping skin and you barely have to speed up your hand before he’s cumming, spilling hot over your fist. You hiss and ‘aww’ at him when he gets overstimulated but he still leans against you, knows you’ll take care of him like he does you.

He can hear movement in the hallway that pulls him out of his thoughts. Gives himself a shake to try and tamp down the memory he’s been reliving for 20 minutes. He almost ducks into his bedroom when he hears the key turn in the lock, an attempt to hide the semi that’s clear as day under his shorts. You get in first though and he greets you a little stiffly, a jerky wave from the stove where he’s still stirring curry.

“You okay?” You’ve barely put your bag down and kicked off your shoes and you’ve got worry all across your face.

“I’m fine!” He lies, still picturing the shower. You get up close to him, eyes darting between his own. You’re not mad but obviously not in the mood for anything at all probably. He knows that dead look well.

“Why don’t you take a shower? Dinner’s almost ready.” He wants you out of the kitchen so he can refocus and calm down. The last thing he needs is to be up your ass about anything. (He just wants you up his.)

You make a noncommittal sound. Give him a once over and he thinks you might spot his half hard dick but the look goes away as quick as it came.

“I’ll just be a few minutes, I promise.”

He’d heard the shower start and had to wrangle himself in, had half hoped you’d come out feeling better and maybe walk your fingers up his back. You’d yet to leave the bathroom though, an hour after he heard the water stop. He knows you’re just decompressing, staring at your phone and scrolling scrolling scrolling but also he’s out here. Worked up, unknown to you, but worked up all the same.

Eddie has somehow twisted himself into a bad mood. Dinner had been ready for a while and you’d said just a few minutes. Yet here he sat, staring at a tv screen with some video game he had no interest in tonight. Finally he hears the bathroom door open and you swan out, damp hair half dried from how long you must have been sitting on the edge of the tub.

“Have a good shower?” He asks flatly, barely giving you a side eye when you walk past into the kitchen. He’d put your plate in the microwave and had made a point to have all the dishes done so you’d maybe get how long you’d been.

“I feel a little more human, but no amount of hot water can make up for the travesty that was tonight.” You’re oblivious apparently and he just huffs, a small nod directed at the TV. “You okay?” You sit directly next to him on the couch, sympathy in the crease of your brows.

“I said I’m fine.” He had. Like an hour ago. Deep down, in the part of his brain that isn’t mad for no reason, he knows what he sounds like. Knows he’s snapping and being a little mean but he feels a certain way and can’t seem to get out of the funk of annoyance.

“I know I was in there for a while, I’m sorry.” You sound deflated. He should put his controller down and look at you and talk to you but he just keeps staring forward, unable to get his brain off its one track of ‘Horny and Angry’. He gives a half shrug and before he can unpause the game you reach a hand over and rest it on his knee. “Seriously Ed, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” He does look at you then, feels the anger melt a little when he sees the tired look you give him. You pat his knee and eat in silence, watching him meander aimlessly around the map. You get up and wash your plate and wander back into his room, the whole time he’s screaming at himself to follow you in and apologize. He’s almost ready to toss the controller to the side when he hears you rummaging around in a paper bag.

“Hey Ed?” You call to him from inside his room.

“What?”

“Can you come in here?”

Eddie finds himself in a lot of situations with you. Most of them fun, some of them suck but this one has moved to the top of his Best of All Time list. It’d taken him a fraction of second too long to answer you and you come out of the bedroom to stand in front of him. Wordlessly lean down and kiss him, hands soft where they fall on his neck. All of his built up frustration boils to the surface and all he wants is to move you back into the bedroom. He‘s halted when you press him back, those hands on his neck a little tighter.

“What have you been up to?” You whisper against his mouth. He’s not sure how to answer, doesn’t really know what your asking. The context is missing and-

“Have you just been mean because you’re horny?” Your laugh brushes across his face.

“Mean? I made dinner.” He’s still pissed.

“And you’ve been giving me the cold shoulder since I got out of the shower.”

“No, you got out of the shower an hour ago.”

“Did you time me?” You stand straight and one hand trails up to lightly hold his jaw. You look appraisingly down your nose at him. “I said I was sorry.”

“And I just wanted you to come eat dinner.” He huffs.

“I don’t think that’s what you wanted. I looked in our goodie bag.”

“…okay.” He might know what you’re talking about now, remembers the empty box he left in there.

“Did you start without me?” The tilt of your head feels condescending and he likes that a little too much. Wants to see how far he can push it. Maybe he can make you feel guilty for making him wait.

“Like two days ago, yeah.” A smug smile stretches his lips. “I got tired of waiting.”

You ��tsk’ at him and very suddenly the hand under his jaw isn’t so soft. It grips while your other comes to tangle in the curls at the back of his head, keeping it tilted back in place. You hover over him, just barely out of reach again and this isn’t the part of the game he enjoys, when he can’t reach your lips.

“Eddie.” Your voice is low and soft. “You told me specifically that I’d get to see you use any and all things we bought, that included that pretty little plug. So where is it?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

That makes you full on laugh in his face, breaking character for a moment. “I’m sorry Ed, are you being serious or is this-“

“Fuckin’ play along.” He murmurs through a grin.

“Are you being purposefully bratty?”

“Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were the only one allowed to pout around here.” This moment of levity makes his stomach unknot. He knows you’re not mad at him, not really. Maybe a little annoyed but he can work with that. You pull his hair a little, another tug that makes his mouth fall open.

“Are you wearing it right now?”

“What? No. I was last night though.” He knows that’ll piss you off, considering you’d gone home to your own place after work instead.

“Are you fucking-“ When you straighten up you pull him with you. He stumbles and drops the controller on the floor with the sudden movement, head still trapped between your palms so he can’t quite see the floor. He’s following you to his room while a laugh builds in his chest. This is what he’s been waiting for all week, longer if he’s honest with himself. He always wants to take care of you in all the ways but recently he’s been feeling a little restless, a little frustrated.

“I like this side of you, where’s she been hiding?” He laughs when you push him down against the bed. The paper bag falls over and he notices the only thing in there is the empty box he left. He slides his eyes over to you where you stand at the foot of the bed.

“I bet you thought I was on my phone that whole time, huh?”

He doesn’t say anything, the heat of arousal blooming low, that anticipation making his stomach tense.

“I noticed when I came in, you’re so easy to read sometimes. Also, your shorts are very loose.” You head into the bathroom and he immediately rips his shirt off, very suddenly sure of where his night is headed. When you come back out he catches the purple silicon in your fist and lets out a quiet moan.

“God you are easy, aren’t you?” Your gaze wanders over him sitting up on his elbows, completely naked and staring at you wide eyed and smirking. His dick lays heavy against his stomach and there’s no hiding his excitement from you. “You know I was going to be all sweet about this and treat you like a hot house lily, but I don’t think you want that.”

He shakes his head. “No. Where’s that mean barista I fell for? She only seems to come out when I don’t do the dishes right.”

“Do you want me to just roast you about your drink all night? I can do that, easy.” You toss the strap on the bed next to him and descend on him. “Do you want me to be mean to you?” You ask between kisses on his stomach, hands roving over his sides and tracing dark ink.

“Maybe a little.” He says it shyly while looking down his chest to catch your reaction. You just tilt your head, contemplating while moving up his body. When you get to his neck, soft lips under his jaw moving up, you lick the shell of his ear and watch the shiver run down his spine.

“Tell me if you want me to stop.”

“Oh, never sweetness.” He’s all shining eyes and slowly emptying head, the weight of the harness next to his hand the only anchor he’s got to this moment. You pull away from him though, entirely too clothed and serious.

“I mean it Eddie. This is new shit, I’m not messing this up.” The finality in your voice gives him enough clarity to stop teasing for a second.

“I promise I will strawberry the fuck out of this if I don’t like it.” He holds up his hand, scouts honoring you. “Now would you please take your fucking clothes off and put the fucking harness on.”

In the time it takes you to get everything situated, you tell Eddie all about your hour in the bathroom. How you’d been planning since your lunch earlier to come home and do this. He tries to help you with the straps once but you slap his hand away and push him back on the bed.

“Hands to yourself.” Wordlessly he scoots back to the middle of the bed to watch you finish undressing. “Good boy.”

That makes his eyes roll and his cock jump. Good boy. It plays on repeat, echoing off the back of his skull while you talk about how you got it, finally understood the appeal when you’d gotten the harness on. Watched yourself run your hand up and down the purple silicon and you’d just had to try it out. “That’s why I was in there so long. Can’t let you have all the fun.”

He pauses, vision going foggy when he realizes what you’ve said. It’s not the most scandalizing thing but you were two doors away, fucking yourself with his new toy. Ignoring him and the dinner he made so you could tease him later with this information.

“It’s not quite you, you’re something else.” You say with a wink, a few steps away from the bed. You’re slow approach makes the strap bob and he watches it with baited breath and mouth watering. He’s not sure where to look anymore, every inch of you setting his thoughts on fire. If he thought you were hot before this is going to end him, the way you kneel on the bed and shimmy up his chest, the tip of your big purple dick nudging his lips. “You gonna help me out or what?”

His laugh is light but his eyes are all dark, pupils wide and lids heavy when he looks up at you. Keeps eye contact when he opens his mouth and sticks out his tongue to barely lick the tip.

“Oh come on, I know you can do better than that.” You coax him and run a hand over the top of his head, anchoring your fingers in the soft curls. “Show me what else that mouth can do.” A pull at the crown of his head to lean him forward and he catches that heavy look in your eye. It makes him sit up and tuck his elbows under his back to prop him up better so he can fully blow you. His eyes slip shut when he opens his jaw, a soft gasp from above let’s him know he’s doing it right. Good boy good boy good boy.

“Is this why you get so cocky?” Your voice is strained over the wet sound oh him sucking. “Is’hot.” You reach back to grab his cock, the soft heat heavy in your palm. His tip is slick with precum where it’s been dribbling on his stomach. “I haven’t even touched you yet and look at you.” A slow drag of your hand up to squeeze the head and he groans, mouth full and drooling. He hears you whisper under your breath, a faint ‘oh my god’ before your hand travels down further and your fingertips inch under to grab his balls. He jerks up and gags and you laugh, still gripping his hair to hold him in place. “Ed you look so pretty like this.” The pressure on his sac tightens and his brain goes off line. Eyes rolling when you keep pulling his hair and give a little thrust into his mouth. “Is this what I look like? Hmm? When I blow you?” His arms tremble with the strain but he refuses to give up, not when you’re touching him like this and teasing him like this and making all those breathy little comments above him. He bobs his head and rolls his tongue around like you could feel it, tries to swallow around the head bullying the back of his throat. He has to force his eyes open to look up at you, to see you shake your head at him and pout condescendingly. “No, I don’t think I look half as good as you.” You keep switching between rolling his balls in your palm and slowly jerking him off and he’s starting to think he’s going to cum before you ever fuck him. He taps your knee twice to get your attention and you let go of everything, making to swing your leg over when he stills you. “Are you okay?”

“I’m-“ His voice is hoarse and wet and he has to swallow a few times before he can talk. “I need you.”

“Need me to what?” Its genuine, concern still laced in your words. He’s staring up at you though, fully fucked out look on his face, pliant and loose on his bed and you know he’s okay. “Tell me Eddie. What do you need?” A soft touch pushes back his hair from his face, skin damp and hot. “What do you want?” You know it’s a hard thing to admit so you give him time. Let him run his hands up your thighs and over your stomach. He kneads your tits, pushes them together and when you grind down against the backside of the strap looking for some kind of friction he pinches a nipple to make you gasp. He keeps a hand at your chest and uses the other to pull you down for a kiss. He’s flushed and hot under you, skin tacky with a thin sheen of sweat. The groans rumbling in the back of his throat make you anxious to hear more. You want to know what he sounds like when he’s under you and lost in his own pleasure. Head empty except for your voice and your touch.

Rarely does he give up control, typically the giver with you but this is special. He’s already quieted down, smart remarks replaced with these whimpers and pants in your mouth where he holds you close to kiss you. When you pull away his eyes are shining and you make a show of shimmying down till you’re kneeling between his thighs and looking up at him.

“You want me to touch you?” You grab his cock and he nods, watches you lazily jerk him. A few licks to the underside of his head and his face scrunches up in concentration.

“Tell me.”

“Yes please.” He breaths out and you open your mouth and sink down, nose buried in the wiry hair. You keep your eyes up, watching him drop his head back against the bed. He drags his hands down his face and when you pull up, pulling his own little tongue swirl move on him he holds his fist over his mouth. You let go with a gasp.

“Absolutely not.”

He looks down his nose at you, eyes wide.

“I’m not doing all this for you to be quiet.” The smile you give him feels feral. “I wanna hear it all, Eddie. Every little sound.” You give him a final look before bowing your head to swallow him down again. You’ve rendered him speechless it would seem, until you slide a hand down and gently tug on his balls. A long groan and a hand sliding into your hair makes you smile around your mouthfull. They’re heavy in your palm, rolling them around until you can wrap your index and thumb finger around to pull down. His hips jerk and when you feel his thighs tensing you sit up, panting and laughing at his visible distress.

“Wh-“

“Under the pillow there.” You nod your head towards his side of the bed. He looks dazed for a moment before patting around and finding the bottle of lube you threw under there earlier.

“Oh you’re crafty.”

“You have no idea.”

He hands it to you and you can see him holding his breath. You let him squirm for a little while longer, let him watch you open the bottle and cover your hand in it. It drips on his stomach and cock and you watch his muscles contract, his anticipation visible everywhere.

“You gonna relax?”

“I am relaxed.” He lies. He pulls his feet up next your knees and squishes you between his own. “I’m just excited.” His own squirrelly little smile flashed at you. You’re excited too, but nervous. You’d done your own reading outside of everything you’d asked Eddie but still. This was your first time doing this and you didn’t want to hurt him.

“Tell me if anything hurts?” He nods and keeps watch of your slick hand. Watches you graze his balls again and feels your fingers graze over his ass. Elbowing his legs to give you more room and you slide a slick finger over the tight ring of muscle. His eyes slip shut and his mouth falls open on a deep, breathy laugh. He’s gripping the back of his thighs when you prod gently, tip of your index finger looking for a little give. You grab the bottle again and open it, drizzling more lube over your strap. Before Eddie can comprehend anything, you grab both cocks in your free hand and thrust.

“Oh my fucking god”

“Good?” You use that outburst to push your finger in gently. Eddie moans and tries to find his footing again when his feet start to slide on the sheets.

“If you keep doing that I’m gonna cum immediately.”

“Doing what?”

“Everything.”

“Oh good.” Another thrust of your hips and another push of your finger and it’s no time at all before you have him at your mercy. Everything is slick and sticky and you’ve managed to get two fingers in, stretching him just enough before he snaps at you.

“If you don’t fuck me right now this night is going to end very fast.” It’s a low warning, gasped down at you where you’re still jerking him and your strap off. You almost want to laugh but the sight of him flushed and wanting is making you feel crazy. When you finally let go of him and gently remove your fingers, you tap his leg to get him to look at you.

“Promise me if it hurts you’ll tell me.”

“I promise, just…please.” His eyes are giant orbs of black ringed in deep brown, blown out in lust and heat and want. Any real thoughts you might have had about being textbook over this is out the window and you just watch yourself line up against him, tip barely pushing against tense muscle before it pops in. Your inhale matches his and you both marvel at this new sensation together. The slightest movement forward and you can feel him clenching around the strap and pulling you in. It takes you a few moments of adjusting and readjusting, making sure you aren’t hurting him or moving too quickly when he snaps again.

“Would you fucking move?” He wheezes. His thighs tremble in anticipation and he’s about to bite his lip in two if you don’t move your hips.

“Hey, I’m trying to be gentle-“

“I’m fine! Just move!” He cuts you off and stares you down when you open your mouth again to argue. He’s about to suggest you lay down and he can do all the work when you suddenly sit up off your calves and push forward. No snap of your hips or quick shove into him just enough that you sink in halfway and he drops his retort. Drops his head against the pillow and drops his hands to the comforter where they grasp for something, anything to hold on to. It’s like you punched the breath right out of him and he groans, short gasps when you push forward again and finally fully seat yourself against him. All he can feel are your hands clutching at his thighs and the fullness of you finally in his ass.

“oh fuckfuckfuck.” It’s been a minute since he’s done this but he’s happy he waited for you. He’s currently busy watching stars explode behind his eyelids but he knows you’ve got that shit eating grin plastered on your face. Barely moving against him, just little thrust to get a better grip on him and his chest is heaving with breathy laughs.

“Is that what you wanted?” He does answer you, just in a strangle of words. You can see his throat bob where he’s swallowing and trying to talk and you just shush him. Run a hand up his abdomen and to his chest where you can feel his heart beating fast.

“Oh I know baby.” A gentle pat on his sternum before you drag your hand down again and grab him, cock slick with all the extra lube. “I bet that feels good, huh?”

He just whimpers at you. It’s such a sweet sound coming out of him. You’ve barely gotten into the swing of this and he’s already a wreck.

“Ed, you’re so pretty like this.” A slow drag of your hand pulls another garbled sound from deep in his throat. Another roll of your hips makes him sigh and laugh and suddenly you’re finding your rhythm. His bed rocks under you when you really start going, the whines punched out of him on every thrust fueling you.

“Does that feel better?” You coo at him and he pushes his head back further into the bed. Let’s out a deep, stuttering cry when you roll your hips back into him and angle up. He lifts his leg up momentarily, dazedly looking for a place to set his foot and you hook him under his knee. Gently pull it up close to your chest where the hair tickles your sensitive nipple. The sounds knocking out of him are pathetic and small, little whimpers and whispers of your name drawn out between a litany of fucks. He’s barely listening to you, too dick drunk to pay attention to anything else but they way you roll your hips against his.

This isn’t a fast night and you wouldn’t call this lovemaking by any stretch. He had pissed you off earlier and maybe you were making him suffer a bit but really this was for him. He’d talked this up for a few weeks and driven you to the shop and bought the toys and then you’d made him wait. Not purposefully, but nonetheless it’d been your fault you two hadn’t done this yet. Getting a little lost in thought causes you to slow for a moment too long and Eddie is whining again, lifting his hips up slightly and trying to fuck himself on your big purple dick. The glassy look in his eyes, the way his whole face is drawn downward while he bites his lip. He’s moving his hand again, up and down the length of his cock where you’d stopped your own movements. Desperate and whining and maybe this is a little for you too.

“Oh my god, look at you.”

His eyes find yours before squeezing shut, a pained expression while he rolls his body against you.

“You have no idea how hot you look.” You fuck into him with shallow thrust, obviously hitting that spot that’s making him keen. He’s grabbing onto anything he can, nails digging into your skin when he catches your arm. “This is-you’re amazing Eddie.” Your hands roam up his sides while you crowd him, leaning in and down to give him a desperate kiss. This closeness makes it hard for you to move as much but he’s still whining while his hands find your hair and your neck, holding you close.

“Please don’t fucking stop-I’m-“ his voice hitches when you obviously hit that sweet spot, eyes rolling into the back of his head.

“You close?” Whispered into his open mouth, it’s all damp air and hot breath and you’ve never been more enraptured by something.

“You gonna cum for me baby?” You’re watching artwork unravel under you. The way his skin flushes red under all that black ink, the heaving of his chest and the sounds punching out of his throat. You marvel at him lasting this long, his cock ruddy and leaking against his stomach, untouched in the last few minutes and you feel a little bad. “Oh come on Ed let me have it.” You grab the sides of his neck, fingers splayed up into his hair. His hips jump at the contact and he babbles and begs for you to keep going. “Let go for me.” The slick sound of him trapped between your bodies and the string of pleas from him fill the room and you know he’s teetering on the edge.

“Come on baby, let me hear you.”

He goes stiff for moment, neck taut under your thumbs rubbing circles. His hands pull at the back of your neck and his knees dig into your hips and the absolute cry he lets loose has you feeling some type of new way. He spills hot between you, lines shooting up to his chest and he jerks under you. Body convulsing and mouth running while he rides out his high and you slow the roll of your hips. He’s breathing like he’s run a marathon, eyes hazy and staring through the ceiling above. You give him a minute to calm down before you sit up and inspect the mess you’ve made of him.

“You okay?”

He doesn’t respond.

“Eddie.”

A grunt then, hands dropping from the back of your neck to slap against the sheets. You run a finger down his chest through the mess of cum and sweat and lube and laugh lightly.

“You have fun?” You try to shift back to pull out but he hooks his ankles behind you, keeping you close.

“Can I have a kiss?” He asks, small and unfocused. He’s still staring up at the ceiling but his eyes are a little less hazy.

“Oh of course you can.” You lean back down and cage his head in between your forearms. You give him a few gentle pecks while you card your fingertips through his hair. His breathing is coming back to a normal pace and you can feel the tremor in his legs calming down.

“Hey.” Whispered softly against his lips to try and get his attention. “Are you okay?”

“I’m…great.” He finally tears his gaze away from the ceiling to look at you. “I’m thirsty.”

“If you let me get up I can help with that.”

It’s with a lot of sighing and protest that he finally unwinds his legs and lets you pull out. He gasps and grimaces but gives you a pointed finger.

“If you ask me one more time.” He watches you untangle the harness from your legs and the mock outrage you shoot him.

“I’m concerned!”

You leave the bedroom naked to get him water and then head back to the bathroom to get a washcloth.

“I’m not going to bruise your ego if I clean you up am I?”

Eddie still hasn’t moved, legs hung over the side of the bed and arms splayed. “I don’t care.”

So you hand him the glass of water and kneel beside him, wiping up the mess you two made. He almost chokes on his water when you run the towel under his balls.

“Warn me!” He rolls away from you while you laugh and try to get anything else off of him. “Just stop, come here.” He pulls the towel out of your hand and throws it towards the bathroom, grabbing your hand and pulling you close to him. It takes some finessing to get you both under the sheets, and even more time for Eddie to finally get situated with his nose buried under your ear.

“Are you comfortable?”

“Immensely.” He sighs and winds his limbs around you, keeping you close to his overheated body. It’s quiet for a while while you trail your fingers over his skin and through his hair, soothing him into a calm state. “Thank you.”

“It was my pleasure.”

“I didn’t even get to help you.”

“I told you, I took care of that already.” You smile when you feel him still.

“I forgot about that.” You can feel his eyebrow raises against your neck.

“Don’t get any ideas.”

“I couldn’t if I wanted to, you fucked them all out of me.” There’s a giggle fit between you two before you settle down again. You work around him clung to you to plug in both your phones and to turn off the bedside light. You think he’s gotta be falling asleep with how heavy he’s leaning into you when he makes a little noise into the crook of your neck.

“What’s up?”

“I feel really stupid saying this right now, but I really want to say it. I know it’s probably some after glow bullshit but…” He trails off. Head still buried in your neck but you can feel the heat of his blush.

“What is it?” You give him a little shake and he just holds on tighter. “Seriously, you can tell me Eddie.”

“I won’t bite.”

He laughs. “I love you.”

It’s your turn to stop. With how much of him is draped over you, you know he can feel your heart beating faster but he can’t see the stupid grin spreading over your face.

“I don’t expect you to say it back or anything I just…I know it’s only been a few months but it’s how I feel and I wanted to say it.” He pauses and takes a deep breath. “Even before the sex shop.”

That makes you laugh loudly and it takes a few minutes for you to calm down enough to talk.

“Do you want me to wait until we wake up to say it?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” That smile is still there for the whole dark room to see. You settle back down against him, hand wrapped around the back of his head cradling him to you. He peppers a few kisses against your neck, lazily nuzzling before he starts to drift off. When you hear the first sounds of deep breathing you turn your head to bury your nose in his curls and whisper at him.

“I love you too.”

(Sacrifice for the readmore)

[pollenallergie]

people named Meg are always just… so fucking cool. Megs out there, I love y’all. I think you’re the best. I think you’re so cool. I want you to know that.

[carolmunson]

the boy is mine | masterlist

an ongoing collection of ficlets and blurbs by writers of the eddie munson x reader fandom using the same prompt. if you wanna take a crack at it, the guidlines are here!

the boy is mine (luna's edition) by @abibliophobiaa the boy is mine (bluey's version) by @blueywrites the boy is mine (bug's edition) by @munson-blurbs the boy is mine (jo's edition) by @jo-harrington the boy is mine (gab's edition) by @vvitchwords the boy is mine (powder's version) by @powderblueblood the boy is mine (leah's edition) by @eiightysixbaby the boy is mine (taylor's version edition) by @superblysubpar the boy is mine (ziggy's edition) by @trashmouth-richie the boy is mine (roe's version) by @hellfire--cult the boy is mine (amy's edition) by @rehfan the boy is mine (dalia's edition) by @eddiemunsons-missingnipple the boy is mine (cheese's edition) by @br0ck-eddie the boy is mine (hannah's edition) by @writinginthetwilight the boy is mine (amy's edition) by @bangaveragewhitewine the boy is mine (claudia's edition) by @jamdoughnutmagician the boy is mine (v's version) by @lonelysatellites the boy is mine (red's version) by @corroded-hellfire the boy is mine (h's version) by @be-ready-when-i-say-go the boy is mine (the wheels edition) by @wheels-of-despair the boy is mine (emmy's edition) by @upsidedownwithsteve the boy is mine (kittie's edition) by @mrsjellymunson the boy is mine (rose's edition) by @rosebudsgarden the boy is mine (viv's version) by @vivwritescrappythings the boy is mine (z's edition) by @uglypastels

the boy is mine (shiv's version) by @justmyheart the boy is mine (iona's version) by @eddiethefreakkmunson the boy is mine (hope's version) by @hopeluna the boy is mine (eddiessluttywaist's edition) by @eddiessluttywaist the boy is mine (chloe's version) by @doomsdaybby the boy is mine (meg's version) by @courtingchaos the boy is mine (betty's edition) by @bettyfrommars the boy is mine (icallhimjoey's edition) by @icallhimjoey (rpf edition) the boy is mine (carol's edition) by @carolmunson the boy is mine (belle's edition) by @angelgirlworld222 the boy is mine (jade's edition) by @jadewritesficshere the boy is mine (hannah's edition) by @rip-quizilla the boy is mine (manda's version) by @manda-panda-monium-writes the boy is mine (desi's edition) by @lilmissdoomandgloomfics the boy is mine (hdyagimr's version) by @howdidyouallgetinmyroom the boy is mine (mar's edition) by @serasvictoria the boy is mine (sienna's version) by @belokhvostikova the boy is mine (call-me-eds edition) by @call-me-eds

[trashmouth-richie]

eddie x fem! reader

master list

summary: Christmas time is here, eddie + you dance around the fact you’re both in love, corroded coffin performs.

w/c: 15k

warnings: NO MINORS —18+ only- mentions of Chad and his awfulness, thoughts of sex

a/n: s/o to my lovely coven for helping me tweak parts of this story, beta reading + letting me insert them through out the story @jo-harrington @blueywrites @newlips @pastel-pillows @loveshotzz @carolmunson @mopeymopeymouse @br0ck-eddie @courtingchaos @fracturedarkness @word-wytch @hellfirehottie420 @chestylarouxx @big-ope-vibes 💋 @agentmarvel @hxllfired ♥️♥️

“Don’t peek!”

“I’m not!”

“I mean it, you’ll ruin it if you peek!”

Large hands cover your already shut tight eyes as you walk forward blindly through the crunch of ice and heavy snow. The soles of your chunky boots leave behind inch deep footprints in the parking lot of Boom’s Auto shop.

“Eddie! oh fu— your hands are freezing!”

A deep husky chuckle hums in your ear, skating across the air and landing warmly on your cheek. A flushed heat accompanying the welcomed tickle of his laugh.

“Just a little further,” Eddie says with a laugh, still walking behind you, big hands blind folding your eyes. Maybe you should have mentioned that you don’t like surprises. The last surprise you had trusted was from your parents. And that resulted in them moving across the country to be closer to Kevin, cutting you out and leaving you behind.

Practically stamping your foot and stopping altogether you let out his name in a small whine.

“So impatient, Tooty,” he whispered like a ghost into your ear, sending a flock of goosebumps down your neck. His calloused hands itched at your soft skin. Your eyelashes tickling his palms. “I promise it’s worth the wait, just a little bit further.”

Sighing with hmmpfed pout, you trudge on, squishing snow beneath your feet.

“Okay, are you ready?” Eddie gleams, hinted delight in his voice like a child showing his parents his cubby at school.

“No,” you tease, eyes still closed, “I think I’ll just turn around and go home.”

Eddie breathes out a groan and tickles his cold fingers into your neck, giggling as you squeal, “see you brought your infamous attitude, sweetheart.”

Gasping for breath from the cold and trying to get away from Eddie’s frigid digits you quip, “ah, you know me, I don’t leave home without it.”

“Brat,” Eddie jokes, moving your shoulders into the perfect position he sees fit. “Alright b—Tooty, open your eyes.”

The sun shines blinding against the frosted white ground, stinging your eyes as you open them from the darkness of your eyelids and Eddie’s sheltered hands. Nestled in the back corner of the parking lot next to a pile of snow sits your car, sitting on 4 brand new tires.

Stunned beyond believe, heart full and ready to burst you are at a loss for words.

“Uh—, sorry it took so long, I fixed it up a little bit more than what was initially wrong with it, replaced the tires—they were pretty bad, fixed the headlights, completely flus— ”

Eddie’s mechanical explanation of what was wrong with your car and how he fixed it goes dead with a grunt and a gasp as you throw yourself into his arms, forgetting his healing ribs you fully wrap your legs around his waist. Ignoring the way the snow on your boots is soaking through his shirt making his back wet, his leather jacket riding up from your sudden jump into his arms. He is completely consumed in this moment. He doesn’t care. The whole world is in his hands, and he doesn’t want the warmth of your body to escape him. Soul on fire and the barricade around his heart completely down, grass growing where they lay now, he is enamored by you. The smell of your hair, how tight you are squeezing him around the back of his neck. Your thighs clutching him. He’s a mess. Melting more than Frosty did on the warmest day of the year.

Welling tears spill from your eyes, you whisper shyly, “thank you,” Floored by your own emotions, you are speechless. Outside of the Wheeler’s, you haven’t had someone care for you on such a personal level before. Eddie made you feel safe, he gave you a sense of calm that filled you with hope, filled you with joy. Not being able to fathom how your life has changed so much since he moved in, the anxiety of everyday life washing away with his smile. His goofiness rinsing the doubt out of the air. The bruise around his eye is fading, color returning back to its original beautiful paled complexion. Emotions running high, you can’t convey with words how grateful you are, instead you pull your head from his shoulder and turn it slightly. Pressing delicate mauve painted lips to his cheek. It’s sweeter than sugar. A dainty quick kiss as sudden as the first drop of rain hitting your cheek in the summer.

Wiggling down his body with one last squeeze around him, he doesn’t register that you are sliding away from him on purpose until he releases his hands on the back of your legs. Thankful for his long hair more than ever today, his ears are tinged red much like his cheeks, one colored with a mauve set of lips he never wanted to wash away. Keeping you with him forever.

Looking into Eddie’s eyes you notice how big they are, a smirk is dancing across his lips. Not wanting to ruin the sentiment, but anxious all the same, you push his chest lightly, a coy smile on your lips, “hungry?”

Oh he was hungry. Starved for you. Your touch, your lips, your smile, the way the sunlight caught your hair. He’s never been so hungry for affection in his entire life, and you were feeding him crumbs. Couldn’t you see he was on his knees begging, pleading for more?

“Always,” he finally sputters out, desperately hoping you didn’t see the tiny hearts floating around his head like a cartoon character in love, “but you’re driving,” he says tossing you your key ring, “time to be my chauffeur, babe.”

It feels weird to be behind the wheel of a car again, considering you haven’t driven in months. The same yellowed tree scent hung from your rearview mirror, no longer full of aroma, fake blue and green Mardi Gras beads jingle together as you bump along the neglected roads of Hawkins. Polaroids of you and Nancy smile back at you from beneath the dash. Various materials of scrunchies litter the gear shift. Loose change fills one of the cup holders.

The sound of a window rolling down and the smell of burnt tobacco has you looking over at Eddie. He looks like he’s in a clown car. Bent bare knees from the holes in his jeans are cramped against the dash. His long arms lighting two cigarettes, a brown filtered end for himself, and a white one for you. He inhales deeply, pushing the smoke out of his lungs and looking out the window, arm bent lazily, palm up to hand you yours. Shamelessly flirting, you carefully place your mouth around the cigarette, your lips grazing his knuckles as you look up at him, with a wink you retreat from him, your lipstick leaving another mark on his skin. Burning into him, inking his skin better than any tattoo he had gotten so far. The bob of his throat is more than noticeable as he gulps deeply. He trails his eyes from your devilish lips to your innocent eyes. Wide enough that Bambi would cry at the sight of them.

Eddie shakes his head with a sigh, choking on smoke as you smile to yourself. You don’t notice the way he readjusts himself in the seat, desperately trying to cross his legs, a heat in his cheeks that he would blame on himself getting a cold if you were to ask.

He’s like a child at a fair, touching every single thing in his line of vision, jokingly grabbing the oh shit handle with every turn you take. Flicking his lighter, moving the visor up and down and to the side, pulling this way and that. Adjusting his seat all the way backwards and then all the way forward when you stop at a stop sign, hand still on the lever, a laugh stuck in his throat as he’s practically folded like an accordion in the front seat.

Blondie’s “Call Me” plays and Eddie grabs the hairbrush he found in the glovebox as a microphone. He’s moving his shoulders in a way that suggests he’s a seductive lounge singer, throwing his hair behind him, then in front of him. His eyes dipped in alluring sex appeal, throwing his head back and showing the expanse of his neck. He laughs a maniacs giggle and so do you. Relishing the time spent with him.

“Thought metalheads didn’t dig Blondie,” you question, inhaling the last of your cigarette and discarding it out of the window.

Eddie chuckles, “Surprisingly enough, one of the regulars at the Hideout plays it on repeat while we’re clearing the stage. Every. Single. Night. Speaking of which, uhh—,” he wasn’t sure how to ask you, not even sure if you wanted to go— but it was worth a shot and what would it hurt— worse thing that could happen would be you saying ‘no’, “ya got plans the day after Christmas?”

Thinking for a while you didn’t want to let it on that you in fact had zero plans. It’s not as if your parents came home to celebrate with a dinner or take you to a movie, fuck they never even bothered to call.

“Merry X -mom dad & kev”

Barely a greeting. Just slanted, chicken scratch handwriting inked onto a blank 99 cent Christmas card. The cheapest of pens was used to write the five words, noted by the scribble at the bottom of the card, when the ink went dry. The card itself was very basic, crimson red with a cartoon Christmas tree on the front. More than likely purchased at a gas station with a carton of Marlboros and a microwaved bean burrito. Cold fingers wrap around the envelope, cotton gloves smoothing over the handwriting as if it were a cherished love letter from your husband lost at sea.

Without fail, the one time a year you heard from them, left you more hollowed than the previous one. And as bummed as you were, when Eddie saw the card in the trash can when he tied up the garbage for the curb, he didn’t hesitate, didn’t pry, didn’t ask. Just tied up the trash and didn’t say anymore about it.

“Hmm.. well the salon is closed so I won’t be working, why what’s up?”

Eddie leans over and turns the knob of the radio down, insinuating how serious he was, “well the band is throwing a gig at the Hideout, kinda like a party for everyone who needs to blow off some steam after the holidays… and I thought maybe you’d wanna go? I haven’t seen you at a Corroded Coffin concert since the 80’s.”

He was right, you hadn’t seen them perform outside of your own garage since high school. Busting his balls a little, your lips curl in a sweet tease, “would I make the fifth or the sixth drunk there?”

Eddie rolls his eyes and makes a face, “I’ll have you know, we actually have to sell tickets now, but you? I'm making you pay double for that mean comment.”

“Oh kiss my ass,” you laugh as he shove him lightly, “I guess I can make an appearance.”

Eddie grins ear to ear, he can’t wait to see you in the crowd smiling up at him. Since he’s moved in, he’s dreamt of the day you finally went to see him play again.

“Well I guess I’ll see you there, maybe even buy you a drink, if you’re lucky.”

He thumbs through your cassettes oooing and awing over your beloved tapes, plucking Stevie Nick’s Bella Donna tape and flipping it over to read the song list on the back.

Head spinning you imagine how sexy Eddie would look on stage. Imagining the sweet aroma of sweat dripping from his hair on his bare chest has you practically drooling, thankful that Eddie is pre occupied with your cassettes, you squeeze your thighs tight.

Eddie begins to hum dumbly along as the end of REO Speedwagon sings about taking it on the run, the mixed tape you’d had since high school plays the next song, Tracy Chapman’s “Fast Car”. The beginning guitar melody rings into his ears, a song he hadn’t heard in years.

“You got a fast car, I want a ticket to anywhere. Maybe we make a deal. Maybe together we can get somewhere. Any place is better. Starting from zero, got nothing to lose. Maybe we’ll make something. Me, myself, I got nothing to prove.”

The lyrics hit your soul, Tracy’s gentle voice singing calmly to you, roped tight with Eddie’s deep serenade, must be what the gates of heaven sound like when they’re opening. Like the two people in the song, you were both tortured by your pasts, aching for something real something new. You ached for him. Did he for you?

Looking over at him, the cords of his neck stretched tight, prominent muscles jutting out around a chain necklace he never took off. It’s impossibly thick, veins lining it perfectly, the best candidate for a vampire’s snack. Stopping yourself from wondering what your teeth would feel like against his skin there, you tear your eyes away from him. Would your tongue tickle from the bitter taste of his cologne? Would the slight drag of your teeth beneath his jaw drive him wild, feral like how you’re feeling? Heat blooming along your cheeks and flooding your belly. You can practically feel the silk of his skin on your lips, daydreaming about the noises he would make if you were to flick the tip of your pink tongue along his adam’s apple. Sucking sweetly, softly… you spend the rest of the drive to Benny’s lost and dazed, desperate for any sort of relief. Body, and soul.

-

The aroma of bacon grease hung thick in the air when you walked into Benny’s. The sagging, water stained wall paper and faded formica table tops were a staple for the dingy diner. Anyone not from Hawkins, would turn up their nose and leave, fanning their face like a woman in church in the south in the 30’s at the sight of the disheveled diner that somehow kept passing inspections. Benny kept the kitchen area spotless, but could not be bothered with the decor and upkeep of the simple things such as wallpaper and art that dated back to borderline colonial times.

Eddie licked his lips as he eyed the sticky and tattered menu. His stomach was an endless pit, a never ending gaping hole the size of the Grand Canyon. Two baskets of fries, a patty melt, a stack of pancake and a piece of cheesecake, “it’s for later,” he said with a smile, only to devour it in two forkfuls once it arrived in its “to-go” box.

“Thank you, by the way,” you murmur around a mouthful of peach cobbler, voice growing small. “For my car, and well everything you do— oh shit, what do I owe you guys?”

Eddie swallows hard, throat coated with the velvety cheesecake, “Nothing,” he answers as if it were an insult you even asked.

“C’mon Eddie,” you say rolling your eyes, “what do I owe you?”

He enunciates the word again, making syllables where they are otherwise not needed. Moving his head left and right as he gets closer and closer, moving over the booth’s table like a snake, the ends of his curls dancing over the tabletop, a smug look pressed on his lips as he licks his fork.

Pulling your eyebrows in and folding your arms across your chest, you narrow your eyes at him.

“It’s not gonna work,” Eddie says, leaning over to take the last bite of your peach cobbler, savoring the warm peach and sugar infused treat on his tongue, “your pouting games won’t work on me, no matter how fucking cute you look.”

The scowl set on your face would have impressed Medusa, before his smile broke you. He was good at that, breaking you out of your shell and opening your eyes to show you that life didn’t always have to be taken so seriously. Your smile matches his and he reaches for the bill, sliding out of the booth. Twisting your body to stand from the under stuffed cushion Eddie is standing in front of you, leaning with one hand on the table, bill curled in his grasp, the other on the back of the booth. He looks like he’s going to say something but it’s lost on his tongue. Defeat and uncertainty cloud his eyes, not here, not now. He hangs his head, shaking his curls lightly. Shaking the nervousness from himself. He reached a ringed hand out to you, eyes dripping with want and cheeks pinked in the prettiest blush on his cream colored skin, along with the mauve lipstick he never wiped off, wearing your lips proudly, a prize greater than gold burned into his skin.

Words fail him, he notices how when you’re around just how much you steal the breath from his lungs. Almost as if he is prepubescent, full of acne and a buzzed head all over again. Scared of girls, a gangly freak who people made fun of. A lost sheep. It had been years since anyone has made him feel that way, usually women were throwing panties at him, bras, themselves at times. It wasn’t hard for him to fulfill his temporary needs. One faceless broad at a time. You? You were nothing like that. He respected you, trusted you, wanted you to feel safe with him. Wanted to take you out and show you off as his girl, his Tooty. Would you want that? Would you want to be his?

“Ready?” He asks, voice low and his lips dripping with a teasing smile.

Nodding, he pulls you up to him, your smooth fingers wrapped in his rough calloused hands. His face tilted downward to yours, yours up to him. And all of his questions are answered by the look in your eyes. They’re warm, dreamy, sucking him in like a magnet to your soul, frantically yearning to connect yours with his. And he’s ready to give it all to you.

-

Standing at the faint remnants of color of the checkout counter, a waitress locks eyes with you first. Smiling warmly and making chit chat. Eddie slides the check around you onto the smooth surface, her bubble gum persona fleeting immediately at the sight of him, her brown eyes staring heavily through her bangs at the stained lipstick on his cheek. Giving you and Eddie a quickened glance, she makes a beeline for the back, knocking the stack of rolled silverware over as the door slammed home behind her.

It doesn’t take an expert to put two and two together. She was either an ex girlfriend or simply an ex lover. Either way, at one point in time they meant something to each other— and you weren’t sure how much or how little that something was.

It hits you then just how inexperienced you are. Eddie has probably slept with 100s of women; being the lead singer of a small town band gave him that privilege of doing so. Of course he has, he practically , if not not so practically told you himself. Wheels spin in your mind and you’re embarrassed at the way your nose tingles trying to push down the small inkling of jealousy brewing in your belly. What the hell would he want to do with you if there were so many other women, better looking, and definitely sexier— ready to be his flavor for the night? Being with Eddie was a joke and you were the punch line— why would a guy like him settle down with someone as vanilla as you?

Suspicion creeping it’s ugly face in your mind and making room for all its baggage as a large hand meets your lower back guiding you gently towards the door. He’s talking but it falls deafly around you. Not wanting to know, but finding difficulty in keeping your mind from wandering, you stretch into the unknown of just how many women Eddie has slept with.

The number didn’t matter.

Shouldn’t matter.

But it begged the question looming in your mind for weeks: would you be enough for him? Walking in jaded silence back to the car, the crunch of snow beneath your feet, wind whipping your hair in your face, Eddie’s warm hand on your back, rubbing slow circles as he joins your silence. Desperately looking through the clouds of your mind trying to find where you went.

Eddie might be a lot of things. He may not be that great at math, knowing the ins and outs of fractions to make his sales when he was a dealer for Rick didn’t exactly qualify him as a mathematician, he struggled with making friends when he was younger, learning that being an obnoxious kid didn’t win any gold stars in the popularity department. But he was profoundly excellent at recognizing people’s emotions, any tiny slip, slow shift— he could sense it immediately. So when you shut down, leaving only nods to his never ending questions, he knew you were hurting.

Fumbling with your keys from your pocket they are plucked from your grasp by thick ringed fingers,”Eddie what the h—”

“Just—,” he pauses then, unsure of what to say, how to explain how he feels about you, the words are thick on his tongue but he knows he needs to explain something first, “wait,”

He runs a hand through his hair and points back at the door to Benny’s, “I— I’ve never given a shit about any girl I’ve been with.” The line is not at all how he wanted it to sound, what was meant to be sincere came out as cocky and like he was almost bragging.

“Oh—kay?” you answer even more confused than you were already feeling. “What the hell does that have to do with me?”

He huffs a breath and kicks around snow with the toe of his boot, “I’ve never w— fuck,” he takes a few steps backwards throwing his paled face to the now blackened charcoal sky, muttering to himself. This was not going well. He could feel you slipping from his fingers. What was meant to be a nice night was now being spoiled by his incoherent thoughts, mouth moving faster than his brain could think. He looks back at you, your eyebrows raised, weight shifted with your arms crossed. Whatever message he was trying to convey was spilling a capital ‘F’ of his blood all over the snow, crimson coloring the white ground.

Chewing his tongue, jaw tightening with aggressive anticipation that he’s just fucking everything up—he finally spits it out, his mind cooperating with his mouth and all in one heavy, heated breath he practically screams, “goddamnit, Tooty— I’ve never cared about someone like how I care about you.”

Stunned, you stand stone still, watching him with large eyes.

“You— you’re the— fuck.” He moves quick, wrapping his fingers around your cheeks tilting your head up to him, the breath stolen from your lungs as you watch his eager eyes swirl with browns and blacks, Dr. Pepper fountains of bliss. He hesitates, licking his lips. Looking from your lips to your eyes and back again. Deciding not to do what he so desperately craves. But it’s not the right time. Not here. Not now. Not before he asks. Not before you understand the multitude of his seriousness. Not before you make it known that you want it too. Taking a deep breath he finds the courage to press forward, voice strong and steady, no longer breaking, no longer unsure. Confident. “No other girl— no groupie, no ex girlfriend no past fling— no one means shit to me except you, okay?”

Heart exploding piñata candy allover your body, tootsie rolls flowing through your arteries, cotton candy dancing in your lungs, sugary mars bubblegum filled lollipops peak from your eyes as you fall hopelessly further in love with him. His fingers melt into your cheeks, burning and dissolving your candy coated insides into a liquid fire of a molten river filled with pinked sweet syrup. You want to swim in his chocolate eyes like August Gloop. Never full of him.

Would he taste sweet? Oh how your lips cried a sorrowful song not being able to lick the sweet words that drip from them.

Later that night your stomach flutters thinking of his lips on yours. That small kiss on his cheek meant more to both of you than could be imagined. Solidifying there in the parking lot of Boom’s Autoshop, just how much you meant to each other. A silent agreement. An understanding. The line was crossed. The only question now is: who would jump with both feet first?

-

The dusty overstuffed Christmas tree box slides across the kitchen linoleum with a drag as you shove all your weight into it from the basement steps.

“You’re a stubborn woman y’know that?” Eddie grumbles from the other side of the box, pulling it further into the kitchen, circling back and reaching his hand out to help you up the steps. “I told you I would get all of this up after I got off work.” His work coveralls coated with deep stains of motor oil and grease, snow melting slowly on his boots.

Huffing low and climbing the last step you explain, “yep, and I told you, mister,” a long nail poking him in the chest, “that I didn’t need any help.”

“Yeah yeah, just gonna do everything by yourself your whole life, never asking for help?” Eddie asks, matching your attitude, booping your nose with a dirty greased soaked finger, his toothy grin on full display, “always just a little shit aren’t ya?”

A heavy scoff leaves your mouth, fake shock from your lips as you place a hand to your chest, “me? Think you have me confused with someone else, Mr. Munson.”

Eddie’s face twists with gross turmoil at the name. “Christ, I haven’t been called that since high school in Higgins office,” he turns his nose up and scowls, “please sweetheart, consult a doctor you must be ill.”

Bantering back and forth for a few minutes Eddie agrees on taking a shower before starting to set up the tree. “.. and whatever other girly shit you have planned for us.” He says with a laugh as he shuts the bathroom door and turns the silver knob for the shower head.

It was Friday night and since Nancy had moved out starting her own Christmas traditions with Jonathan, you were left with her same traditions in the same house but with a new someone to make them special with.

Chili was simmering on the stove. Rich and spicy just the way Karen Wheeler had taught you to make it, the counter held her famous cinnamon roll recipe, rising gently on the counter. It was engraved in your mind after watching her make them every Sunday for years, and you had yet to make them for Eddie. The kitchen smelled savory yet sweet, the mixed concoction floating heavenly notes of hunger induced stomach pains to the bathroom as Eddie toweled off, pulling a pair of gray sweatpants low on his hips. His hair hung in wet lengthy ringlets, dripping down his back as he emerged into the dim lit kitchen, a hunger in his belly— but not holding a candle to the fiery burn of want in his stomach at the sight of you.

The flour dusted lightly on your cheek could be mistaken for pixie dust with how magical you looked to him, the sleeves of your baggy red velour knit sweater were bunched around your elbows, bringing a spoon to your plump lips as you made them into a small ‘O’ blowing gently on the contents of meat, tomatoes, peppers and kidney beans cradled in the the silver utensil close to your lips.

Eddie had never been jealous of silverware before but he would give his left nut and his guitar away to be that lucky heated spoon for just one minute. Slotting the metal into your mouth, you hum a sigh of satisfaction as you savor the delectable bite, chewing slowly and licking your lips, Eddie is gripping the counter tighter than an old woman gripping her life alert as she tumbles to the ground. Fuck, he’d break a hip— hell no, he’d break every bone in his body just to have you hum around him, any part of him, his earlobe, his fingers, his cock, he didn’t care. Reaching up and brushing his own cheek like a coy school girl, he still felt the way your lips touched his cheek— and that was weeks ago.

“Think Jonathan still does secret investigative pictures for Murray Bauman if you were looking to snap a few pictures you little perv.”

Head swiveling towards him at your last word, you can’t keep the act up anymore, your cheeks feel like they’re going to burst with how wide you’re smiling, your laugh echoes off his naked chest and hits the cabinets, pinballing around the room, striking him like lightning in a summer storm— bright first and the thunderous boom coming after.

Snorting at your own joke and the way his cheeks heat with shame—caught with his hand in the cookie jar, drool practically falling from his lips as his mouth hangs open. He has never looked better. Your boldness stays long enough to send him a wink, and your stomach flutters when he returns it, rubbing his cheeks to will away the blush implemented on his skin.

“Are we going to eat or are you just going to keep making fun of me?” Eddie presses, a light shade of pink still tinged on his cheeks, his smile bright and cheerful.

Walking closer to him you let your body take control, mind not thinking. Useless in your head as you move with sure steps closer to him. Not wanting to know the repercussions of your actions, yet something about him has made you so sure that what you’re feeling was real. That he felt it too, reassuring you with his body language, his words. He wants this and so do you. Time to dive in. But the ache of rejection, fear of making a mistake, afraid to let yourself be loved when you aren’t worthy of it. Has your stomach in knots. Stopping short of your hands on his chest, the confidence is gone, buried beneath the savory smells of the kitchen and the heated stares between you both.

Uncertainty soaring, you place your hands on your waist, head hung in a cloud of anxiety, “tree first, then we can eat.”

Silently moving through the motions, you unbox the tree monotonously. Eddie’s raging war against himself. Begging the question of what happened to make you turn the flirting dial off. The tree is up, and you’re busy fluffing the branches after a year of being squashed in a box and stuffed into a basement. Overthinking what you said to Eddie, you can’t move past how he makes you feel.

It’s not as if you have had a boyfriend other than Chad, or even had anyone other than him kiss you, touch you, and none of that was enjoyable. Being with him was crippling, suffocating in a way that you weren’t ever sure you’d ever be able to breathe normally again. Living in a state of constant fear for years, waiting for the day he would return. And when he did—Eddie was there to comfort you, hold you while the panic attack riddled your body, collapsing in on itself. Eddie was there to pick up your broken pieces and mend them together with his silliness, his arms wrapped around your body shielding you from demons he couldn’t see. Taking the blame for something that wasn’t his fault. He was impossibly charming, good-looking and even though he could be a pain in the ass— you couldn’t imagine your life without him.

“Fuck, ow ow, shit, Tooty! I’m not a genius or anything, but there is no way this is right!” A quick jolt back to reality has you turning your head sharply to see Eddie tangled in emerald green ropes of colorful christmas lights. Entwined in his hair, around his thick fingers, and arms. Christmas clashing with his tattoos he’s all furrowed brows and huffed breaths. You desperately try to stifle a smile but fail miserably. “It’s not funny! It hurts!”

“Eddie,” you choke out in between laughs, reaching up with delicate fingers, and a laugh buried in your chest you begin to untangle his messy curls from the strings of lights. Adjusting his curls this way and that his brows lax at your pretty face so close to his. There they are again, the lips that kept him up the last few nights. The lips that could be full of vinegary insults, and sweet sultry compliments. The silky skin of them call out to him in his dreams, purring his name.

Feeling the need to explain himself for earlier, “for the record, sweetheart, I was staring at the spoon, n—not at you.”

Smooth. Jesus Christ.

“The spoon huh?” Giggling at his lie, untangling his rings and fingers from the lights, releasing him from the holiday handcuffs, “really? and what was so interesting about it, hmm?”

Eddie grabs your hand as it slips from his hair, leaning close enough that his chest is brushing yours, “I have a grudge against it.”

Confused, you pull your eyebrows inward, “what?”

His lips are licked and he holds your hand palm to palm your fingers between his, hugging his rings in your small grasp. His other hand travels up to your chin, laying lightly against your delicate skin. Small strokes of his thumb outline your top lip, and you suck in a quickened breath. Your knees are weak, and you lean into his touch, pushing yourself closer, skimming your fingers along the charcoal outlines on his chest.

The satiny pillows of your lips against his rough calloused skin send him to heaven on angel’s wings. His eyes are trained on your mouth, thumb lining your Cupid’s bow. He circles downward, studying your lips like a map, following the path of Magellan to the corner of your mouth. Face studied hard he doesn’t see the way your eyes have closed, and barely registers the nails on your hand scratching his chest in delight. If your lips were a test, he’d pass with flying colors. Every line is memorized, the color is painted more beautifully than that asshole on tv painting sceneries of birds and rivers. He’s not even breathing, and you aren’t sure if you’re awake or asleep. His fingers act like melatonin lulling you to sleep with each sweep across your lips. Pulling your bottom lip down, a noise escapes his throat as he watches it pop back up against your teeth with a soft thump.

“The spoon is lucky,” Eddie admits through broken breath. His words flow through you like the smoothest water against a creek bed, rippling and bubbling in your veins pooling in your core and heating your body with lust.

“Eddie,” you hum, sending a vibration through his fingers to his now throbbing cock. The oven beeps and you jump in his hands. Forced back to earth from the ethereal spin of Eddie’s warm fingers massaging your skin. Pulling away from him is harder than erasing a permanent marker, getting year old puke stains out of a carpet, harder than overcoming the worst pain you’ve ever felt. Padding into the kitchen you straighten your sweater, lungs burning with aching want to be filled with Eddie’s essence.

Placing the cinnamon rolls into the center of the warmed oven, you turn to find him behind you, silver Christmas ornament bulbs hanging from his nipple rings. “Think Walt would hire me to dance on stage for Christmas?”

This was routine for you and Eddie, intense moments followed by giggling laughs. An endless circle on repeat. If you weren’t ready to jump he wasn’t going to push you. He’d wait for you, however long it would take for you to be ready to admit that he loved you and you loved him back.

-

The tree was up and lit, beautiful colors of red, blue, yellow and green shone brightly against the dark evergreen. Sitting at the table eating chili and cinnamon rolls, Eddie looks like a kid in a candy shop. Eyes blown wide and sparkling. “Y’know I’ve never done that before.”

“Put Christmas bulbs in your nipple rings?”

After the light fiasco Eddie hung the decorations with care and slotted two silver Christmas bulbs in his nipple rings, shaking his chest around, a twang in his voice, “my stage name is Elejandro but honey you can call me big E.”

“Well that either,” Eddie laughs, wiping a rogue dribble of chili away from his chin, “but no, I’ve never decorated a Christmas tree.”

Swallowing the mouthful of cinnamon roll you mull over his confession, “did I just take your Christmas virginity?”

“Guess so,” he grins, shoveling another spoonful of the hearty chili into his mouth using his cinnamon roll to soak up the tomatoey broth. “Aren’t you lucky?” It was your turn to battle away your thoughts as he licked the back of his spoon then his lips. Oh his wicked tongue would be more than delicious on more than a few places on your body.

“Who’s the perv now, Tooty?” Eddie gleamed, his smile turning upwards in a satanic smile. The heat from your cheeks would fill a cold room with warmth. A wink from his eyes has you both smiling again. Teetering towards uncharted waters but not quiet dipping toes into the waters of giving in, not yet.

-

After cleaning up supper and listening to Eddie thumb through the medicine cabinet for the Tums, you whipped up the sugar cookies and pulled them out of the oven.

They were cooling on a wire rack on the counter. Icing, sprinkles, Christmas themed m&ms and twizzler pull apart licorice were filling the brim of small styrofoam bowls. Hot chocolate was bubbling in mismatched ceramic mugs in the microwave. Awaiting their marshmallow floaties to join the rich chocolate bath.

“Cookies too?” Eddie asks, a shit eating grin on his face as he’s coming back inside from his after supper cigarette, the chill of the frozen air following him on his heels, “baby, you’re spoiling me.”

Baby.

The sentiment falling to the deep pit of your stomach making you clench your thighs tight, a skipped heart beat sending heat through your body. It’s definitely not the first time you’ve heard him say it but the way his eyes sparkle and are half lidded have you liquified into a soupy puddle of goo.

Pushing down the heat building in your body, inhaling deep through your nose, you try to keep it together. It’s getting more and more difficult. The feelings you have for Eddie have been steadily growing fonder since Halloween. That stupid Jesus costume had you thinking the unholiest thoughts for weeks. And now he’s sweeter than ever before. Looking like heaven’s fallen angel, Satan's favorite son. A cherub face with a demonic mind, the perfect disguise. There wasn’t a single square inch of him you hadn’t thought about in ways that would make holy water simmer on your skin. Fuck.

“—Tooty?” fingers snap in your face as you’re pulled from the fiery depths of pure joyful sinful lust filled hell. Eddie as the devil and you sitting at his right hand, his hands.

“Christ, you look possessed,”

Oh how you were.

“S-sorry,” you stammer out, a nervous laugh pushes from your lungs as he smiles at you.

Eddie and you were just two misfits, throwing together a Christmas like it was normal for you both. A normal that you could very easily get accustomed to.

-

“You what?!” Nancy shrieks in the booth next to yours as she rolls another perm rod into her mother’s hair. Her thin eyebrows are hidden beneath her straight bangs a look of disbelief planted on her face, “holy fuck, you’re serious?”

Explaining to Mrs. Nancy Byers and Karen Wheeler about your developing feelings for your roommate, left one of the related women stunned, the other with ecstatic delight.

Karen claps her hands, a fuschia smile on her lips, eyes bright and fighting back tears, “oh sweetie I am so happy for you.”

“Thanks,” you say shyly, fiddling with the combs on your counter, “and yes Nance, I am serious.”

Fingers moving rapidly she rolls the rest of Karen’s hair before saying anything else. “I’m happy for you, too ya know,” Nancy finally admits, “I saw the way he stared at you on Halloween.”

“Saw who stare?!” Robin chirps as the bell above the front door dings, announcing her Kramer-esque arrival, spinning chaos in a denim jacket. She slots her wirey frame in your chair, snowy boots plopped on your counter.

Nancy spins Karen around and motions for her to sit under the dryers. “Seeing Eddie stare at Tooty on Halloween,” she explains to Robin.

Robin nods and flicks through your brushes and hairsprays on the counter. “Oh for sure, he’s in love with her, it's so obvious.”

A bloom in your chest erupts as heat floods your cheeks. Robin’s confirmed words spread open your chest with adoration and love. It’s one thing to think someone might like you, hope they will reciprocate the same feelings, but it’s quite another thing to have multiple other people notice the feelings growing between you and someone you're crazy about.

Robin, Nancy and yourself gossip for the rest of your shift. Robin leaving with fire engine red hair, matching the blood pooling around your heart, beating for Eddie, aching for his touch, his smile, his stupid jokes. All of him. You were ready to take the dive.

-

“Oil change on this thing already?” Eddie laughs as Steve jumps out of the midnight black G-Wagon, tossing the keys in the air to himself.

Steve chuckles and threads his fingers through his hair, “yeah, new job has me traveling most of the time, and whenever I don’t want to fly— they provide me with this bad boy,” a sparkly gold plastic credit card is pulled from his wallet.

He goes into detail about how he has been taking Leighanne with him on his trips and just got back from seeing the Christmas tree lighting at Rockefeller Center in New York, how he’s sure he’s in love with her. “I’m happy for you, man.” Eddie says, “she seemed like she really was into you.”

Steve smiles, a cigarette between his teeth, “how’s the whole situation with Tooty? Make a move yet?”

Eddie lights his own cigarette, mulling over his answer. The short of it was, things were going … steady? They weren’t moving forward but not necessarily moving backwards either. He thought you felt the same way he yearned for you, but what if he made his move and you recoiled? He would die if he made you feel uncomfortable in any sort of way. You were his main goal, his end game, his one in a million, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he screwed it up.

His stomach in knots he feels like he could puke all over the patent leather of Steve’s shoes.

“I think it’s good?” Eddie blurts, confusion in his tone and a nervous hint of dread. “I care about her a lot— and I’ve told her that, I— ” he swallows hard, unsure of his next sentence but needing some advice, “I just don’t know how to show her that she means more to me than just a friend or a roommate or my friends’ sister.”

Steve looks at him confused, “dude,” he asks in all seriousness, “are you a virgin?”

The choked out bellering laugh Eddie emits from his body scares away the birds resting their feet on the telephone line. “Steve, what part of me being in a band and a cocky asshole screams virgin?”

“Well, you’re acting like one! ‘I don’t know what to do!’ Fuck man, stop being so scared and just tell her how you feel!”

Eddie's laugh turns sour, “I’ve never had to do this before, I haven’t been in a relationship in six years, and even then, I never once felt how I do about Tooty. So yeah I am scared because I don’t wanna fuck it up or have her think I’m just some creep like that fuckwad Chad.”

Steve shakes his head, and grabs Eddie by the shoulders, “you’re overthinking this, like a fuck load—she likes you, I know she does because whenever I talk to her she’s always telling me about something you did that day, but if you want some guidance— I’ll help you out.”

The greatest heads of hair in Hawkins, Indiana work for the next half hour, developing a plan for Eddie to make his move before he lost you.

-

Soft, pillowy blankets of pure white snow cover the cramped poverty stricken Forest Hills Trailer Park. Illuminating the impoverished community in a mask of Christmas spirit. White, and pristine. An illusionists dream, one so great that someone might have mistaken the rotting trailers and the broken down vehicles as heaps of snow instead of the decrepitness that would show truth when the masking snow melts and brings forth the ugly harshness of muddy roads and sinking foundations.

Spending Christmas Day with Eddie and meeting his uncle had brought a sweetness to your insides, eating away the sourness that the holidays delivered most years, a steady reminder that you were passed down like a pair of jeans. It had been Eddie’s idea to bring dinner over to his uncle's place and you were more than excited to get another peek at his world. Having talked to Wayne on the phone about what he would like you to make for food, his voice was gruff but serene, calling you ma’am and answering your questions between puffs of his cigarette.

“Darlin’,” Wayne answered after the second time of you asking if he was sure that it didn’t matter what you brought over; he didn’t want you to fuss over him, “we could have Surfer Boys pizza for all I care, but if you do make something— you make damn sure that nephew of mine is helping ya, alright? I ain’t raised no man to sit and watch work bein’ done, no matter what he thinks.”

Giggling with a hand to your mouth, Eddie rolls his eyes, cheeks burning crimson, “Christ Wayne,” he breathes, “pipe down or I’ll take your Christmas present back.”

A hacking cough rumbles from the other end of the phone as the two Munson men bicker back and forth.

Settling on garlic mashed potatoes, swedish meatballs, green bean casserole, dinner rolls, and the second pumpkin pie since Eddie ate the first one with a fork and a container of cool whip on the couch after work yesterday; you and Eddie stand at the door of the sky blue trailer the morning of Christmas Day, arms full with casserole dishes and desserts.

The door opens and the waft of a bachelor-esque aroma hits your nose. Stale cigarettes, and laundry soap combine is a surprisingly comforting smell as Wayne Munson meets you at the door. Icy blue eyes crinkled at the edges take a look at all the food balanced between four arms and immediately grabs the containers from you, cigarette planted between his fingers as he slides the food into his own arms. “Lord,” he huffs, “you been cookin’ all morning?”

Eddie holds the door open with his foot and ushers you in, hot on your heels to get away from the bitter cold. “Hell yeah she has been,” Eddie said proudly, showing you off like a 4H blue ribbon, “she wouldn’t even let me taste test it.”

Shying away from his compliments you place the mashed potatoes on the counter, turning around to get a full look at the tiny trailer.

Mugs of various assortments, sizes, colors and shapes decorate the wall above the door. A row of dusty long forgotten hats, balances over the window above the brown couch. A small tv is set in the corner of the living room, a table that has seen better days is wedged into a tight corner across from the cabinets in the kitchen, two matching chairs and a third aluminum folding chair propped against it, the seat hard cracking plastic, stuffing spilling out. The fridge is small but functional, a brass magnet with a clamp holds a hand written note of dates, some crossed out in red ink, others upcoming left alone, next to a calendar. The home is well loved and portrays everything you expected from a bachelor pad. Simple, tidy, cramped.

Imagining Eddie in high school living here, you wonder if the brown couch held more than just dust and well grooved ass prints. Memories of Eddie’s previous lovers? One night stands? The thoughts make you shiver with jealousy and disgust as you take lids off of containers and place aluminum foil from the meatball tray on the side of the counter. Eddie and Wayne are on your right talking about a leaky shower head, the cost of replacement parts and how much it would cost to get a new one.

“… agh,” Wayne argues, “it won’t take me long to take it all apart and figure it out, ain’t no need to go out and buy a new one.”

“Alright stubborn ass,” Eddie pokes, a toothy grin on his face, “just trying to make it easier on you.”

Wayne and him laugh, greeting each other with a hug. Eddie is a whole head taller than Wayne, their stark differences are completely night and day. Where Eddie is pale, Wayne’s skin is weathered and tan, the piercing blue eyes are ice against his tan complexion, meanwhile Eddie’s eyes are so dark they could be mistaken for black holes in the galaxy.

The Munson men pull away with slaps on the shoulders and jokes about frail bones and old age. When Eddie looks at you next Wayne’s eyes follow, his ruddy ringed hand gesture to you with a palm upwards, presenting you like a celebrity, “Wayne, this is Tooty, Tooty, this is my uncle Wayne.”

Smiling sweetly and stretching your hand forward for Wayne to shake you are enveloped with his warmth through his heavily calloused hands. “Pleasure to meet ya darlin’, Eddie ain’t ever brought a girl home for me to meet before.”

Never brought a girl home.

How could you be the first? Eddie dated Chrissy for an entire year, and you’re sure he’s had more than one girlfriend in the past. Including the waitress at Benny's. Why wouldn’t he have brought any of them to meet Wayne? Clearly his uncle means a lot to him, and you remember how Eddie was with Chrissy, how much he cared about her… why did she never come back to the Munson home?

Eddie interjects your thoughts, his cheeks pinked with embarrassment, “Wayne what the f—.”

“Ah hell, I forgot I bought some paper plates, let me go get ‘em from the truck.” Wayne tuts, walking quickly past you and Eddie, the cool rush of air fills the room and the snap of the screen door has Eddie shaking his head. Murmuring to himself about needing to keep his mouth shut as he busies himself with getting forks and knives from the wonky drawers.

-

Empty plates and full bellies coordinate into a sleepy haze between you all. Wayne’s contagious laugh fills the kitchen as Eddie groans when the small photo album is passed around the table. “Remember this one Ed? Damn you were madder’n a hornet that day when Mrs. Milford asked you to mow her yard.”

“Ya,” Eddie yelled, “that’s cause there is no yard she just made me pick up rocks, and most of it was dog shit from Rocko!”

Wayne’s bellering laugh brings tears to your eyes at Eddie’s misfortunes. A picture of a younger Eddie no older than ten years old, dirt and a scowl on his face, same big doe eyes and a bad haircut.

A smile finally breaks on his face seeing your smirk dance on your lips as you wipe the laughing tears from your eyes.

The three of you spend hours laughing, Eddie and Wayne clean up the table as you put food in Tupperware containers for Wayne, slotting them into the fridge and stacking them neatly.

The Christmas present Eddie had for Wayne was in the back of the van and was heavy. Wayne jumped in to help Eddie carry it in, tutting and making a fuss when you told him you could do it, “no ma’am, you sit down right there, I mean it!”

Once outside, the two Munson’s light up cigarettes, exhaling puffs of smoke into the chilled air, the crunch of snow beneath their boots.

“Sure was nice to meet your girlfriend Ed, I think she’s a keeper,”

Not missing a beat and rolling his eyes Eddie all but screams, “Wayne for fucks sake we are not dating, I told you this! Or did you turn senile since I moved out?”

“Well I just thought that if I’d tease ya enough about it you’d do somethin’ about it ‘stead of gawking at her all night like she’s gonna break.”

Eddie's ears burn, “I have a plan, it’s just not something I wanna ruin— I gotta do it right, she isn’t like anyone else— she— she means more to me than that.”

“I’m proud of ya son, finally grew up,” he claps a hand on Eddie’s shoulder, “you be good to her. Don’t know anyone of your other girly friends, or whatever you call ‘em, who'd dare step foot out in these parts.”

-

Eddie's gift to Wayne had been a bigger tv, one he could watch Gunsmoke on and be able to see it comfortably from the couch instead of squinting. Wayne smiled from ear to ear and kept on smiling when he stood at the door and waved goodbye to you both.

Cheeks sore from laughing, exhausted from the day you yawn behind a mittened palm. Watching the street lights bounce and sway as Eddie drives you both home.

“Can’t be tired already are you?” He asks, smoking a cigarette lazily, smoke billowing from his nostrils and around his curls.

You stretch your back, arching it against the cracked leather of his seats, a yawn slips from your mouth, “Just a little bit,” your voice is small and strained from the stretch, eyelids heavy.

He pleads with slight desperation in his tone, “don’t fall asleep on me yet,” his eyes are soft and tender, blinking slow and gazing into yours, “I still have to give you your present.”

“Present?”

Eddie and you hadn’t talked about getting each other presents even though you had one wrapped neatly in a small box in your bedroom at home.

His face lights up as your eyebrows pull into a quizzical ponder. “It’s nothing big,” Eddie shrugs nonchalantly even though his insides are fiery pools of gummy liquid, tangled knots of rope, “just something kinda silly.”

Heated cheeks and a delicate fluttering in your stomach keep you awake the rest of the way home, the fluttering increases anytime Eddie catches you looking at him, his lips pursed in a smirk.

Inside, you speak few words. Eddie tosses his keys on the table, a jingled clink as it skids and stops amongst the stack of mail. The creaking leather of his jacket is soft as it rubs with the flannel fabric of his shirt as his arms are pulled from it, tossing it on the back of the wooden chair. He sits to unlace his boots. The overhead light dances off of the silver of his chunky rings, highlighting his large veiny hands, working in a fluid movement of untying the laces from the eyelets. Those powerful hands. His talented fingers. Aching for them to be on your skin you are tantalized by them. Eyes never moving from the skin pulled taut on his knuckles, chapped and pink from the chilled air and the refusal to wear gloves.

Your own shoes are off, toes begging for warmth as you walk gingerly to your room and change into pajamas. What gift did Eddie have for you? Would he think your gift was weird? Pushing the negativity from your mind, you change into comfy pajamas.

Eddie was waiting in the living room with your gifts behind his back. His mind racing and heart thumping noisily in his chest. He had run this through his mind more times that he could count, obsessing over the fine minute details for days. He had calculated the perfect way to do this with the help of Steve. Tonight was the first part and tomorrow, after ‘A very Merry Corroded Christmas at the Hideout,’ he was going to ask you on a date, a real one. One that he borrowed fancy cologne from Harrington, cleaned his van out for, one that ended with him telling you how crazy he is about you, how he thinks you hung the moon, any and all cliches surmounting every horribly sad country song that Boom made them listen to at work, he’d sing them if you wanted that from him. He’s never felt more like a sap in all his life, but for you, he’d be everything and more. And if he was lucky— and you were ready—maybe he would steal a kiss.

His daydream is cut short when you shuffle from your room to the living room. Christmas tree lit behind him, makes him look fit to be an angel sitting atop the tree rather than standing in front of it, the same smirk he always wore skirting across his face.

The red flannel he’s wearing is rolled to his elbows, pushed up haphazardly. A silver chain hanging delicately around his neck and disappearing in the opening to his shirt. Heart nearly stopping at the sight of him, you walk the same way towards him that he’s standing, hands behind your back, fingers digging into the foiled Christmas wrapping.

“Okay,” Eddie says nervously licking his lips, “let’s countdown from 3 and we can exchange? Does that work?”

Nodding enthusiastically, your mind is screaming at you— your gift is too much, he’s gonna hate it, he’s gonna think it’s weird that you bought this for him. Stomach churning like butter, you hear Eddie’s low velvet voice counting down. At his voice dipping lower when he gets to one you slip the sweat slicked thin box from behind your back and lean hold it out in front of you.

Your chapstick smile is sweet and adoringly beautiful, Eddie nearly drops your present from behind his back at the sight, fingers clutching to the silky wrapped handles of the gift bag with Santa’s fat white ass climbing up into a chimney on the front. His arm swings forward and holds the bag by its handles on one thick finger, like a bomb ready to explode at any second.

Eyes wide and bright he places the gift bag in your hand and exchanges his present for yours. “Eddie you didn’t have to do this,” you gasp at the sight of the bag, “you already fixed my car and wouldn’t let me pay you.”

“Yeah well,” Eddie starts rubbing the back of his neck, “open it and we’ll decide if I should have or not.”

Placing the bag on the ground and taking the crinkly emerald green and sparkly gold tissue paper out one sheet at a time, Eddie’s eyes never leave your hands as you reach the bottom of the bag and they hesitate. His heart jumps to his throat, stomach falling out of his ass. It’s too much, you hate it. Of course you do, it was a stupid idea to begin with. Why the fuck did he ask Gareth for his help? His original idea would have been better than this, and now look! You’re about ready to rip his goddamn head off like a praying mantis or some shit. SON OF A B—

A shrill laugh erupts from your lungs as Eddie feels a tidal wave of relief wash over him. Tucked into the bag, folded as neatly as Eddie could, you pull out a black t-shirt, safety pins decorate the hem, a homemade ripped neckline. Corroded Coffin's sadistic logo is printed on the front and beneath it reads, ‘Eddie’s babysitter’ in bold white lettering. Fingers tracing the lettering you haven’t stopped laughing yet.

“I—I was deciding between ‘babysitter’ or ‘manager’ but went with th— I just figured you needed something to wear for tomorrow and I thought this would be c— do you hate it?”

“Hate it?!” you squeak between giggles, “Eddie this is the best gift I’ve ever received, I can’t wait to wear it.” You meant that, the thought that went into this, the personalization. The almost possession of being anything of Eddie’s made you weak in the knees.

“Thank fuck,” he breathes, finally able to take a breath and relax, “shit I have something else for you too, but uh.. close your eyes and turn around for me.”

His breath on your neck drives goosebumps and flutters all over your body. The cool feel of a necklace tightens on your neck as Eddie latches it closed, and goes slack once he’s finished. His hands trail down your back and land on your hips to turn you back around. His fingertips digging into your flesh ever so lightly.

The necklace is heavy, something weighing it down but you can’t be sure what it is, it’s not until you glance at his hands that you notice one of his rings is missing, the chunkiest of them all, the pig head is no longer on his middle finger, but around your neck instead.

His fingers skate along your neck as he adjusts it into place, tickling your collar bones with his finger tips, sending shivers across your skin, he keeps this up and you’ll be permanently goose pimpled for the rest of your life. You’d wear them proudly if it meant his hands never left you.

“There,” he announces in finality, his eyes dip to your lips, the necklace and back to your eyes, “aren’t you just the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Core throbbing and pooling with molten hot lava at his complimentary words, his velvet, panty dropper voice. Fuck, he is so pretty it hurts.

“Better open your present before your mouth gets you into trouble,” you whisper, blinking long and slow as you stare back into the depths of his eyes, lost in the muddy galaxy.

He grins, his fingers walk up your neck and cup your chin, bringing you ever so slightly towards him, enough that you can feel his breath on your own lips, his tobacco voice pulling you in and wrapping you tight in a nicotine high that they’d make quit ads for in the upcoming future, “oh princess, I’d pay to be in that kind of trouble.”

and you’re floating, in this moment there is no sound, just two souls shedding the last layer of self doubt, the last inkling of the unknown as your toes dip in the warm pools of the burnt caramels of Eddie’s eyes. His lips are slick and you want to get a taste, want to feel the chapped crack in his bottom lip nestled against your tongue, busting the crack open and savoring his blood in your mouth.

The fervoring tension has never been this strong and you wonder if you’ll be able to pull away or if you’ll push yourself up on your tippy toes and close the inch gap between you, sealing your feelings with a kiss. But it’s Eddie who pulls away, taking a ragged breath and hitting himself lightly in the head with your carefully wrapped present.

He could feel the flames from your lips, the sweet venom of your tongue was sirening out to him, but he wouldn’t, couldn’t do it. He has a plan in place and no matter how hard all puns intended it was for him to pull away from you, he had to. Wanting to follow his plan, making sure his i’s were dotted and his t’s were crossed he’d never studied harder for anything in his life. He’d pass this test for sure, having obsessed and studied the material for months, staying up late most nights to tune out the fine details. He’d get this right.

Your eyes droop as he steps away from you tangled in his web of desire you can’t get unreleased from. His fingers slide along the taped edge of the wrapper and you’re certain you’re going to fold like a chair at the way the veins bulge in his hands. He’s looking at the gift you bought, a silence on his lips as you drool for the way he’s holding it. He’s stammering, suddenly an impediment in his vocal chords as his tongue twists thickly against his teeth.

“No way— No fucking way!” He’s screaming, pulling his hair and jumping around the room in a boyish giddiness.

“M-Metallica! Tooty!! No way, dude no way! These are fake right?!”

They weren’t.

Robin always had a craft for winning stupid shit and when the radio station out of Indianapolis announced they were giving away tickets to see Metallica in February to caller number 18, Robin just so happened to call the radio station requesting to do a shout out for Vicky and ended up winning the tickets. The night she came to you to color her hair, you exchanged the service for the tickets.

Before you can answer he grabs you up in his arms, spinning you around the room, holding you tighter than a safety belt on a rollercoaster. He spins and spins as you both laugh like kids.

“Merry Christmas Eddie,” you whisper in his ear when he stops spinning. He’s holding your waist, and you’re on the tips of your toes, his head buried into your neck.

“Why are you so good to me?” Eddie asks solemnly against your neck, his voice vibrating your skin in a heated pulse.

Not answering for a long time, you bathe in his musky scent, his hair tickling your face in silky curls. His strong arms holding you tight against him, your fingers playing with the opening of his flannel and the ends of his curls, your cheek right against his chest, moving with his breathing.

“Because I want to be,” you finally answer, pulling away and getting lost in his inky warm eyes, “you deserve it.”

He reels you back in, his chin atop your head. Minutes melt together and you aren’t sure how long you stand this way, hip bones fusing together as one with your hearts aligning, your eyes have been closed for a while and you feel cracked lips on your forehead, making you shiver as he whispers, softly into your hairline, “my angel.”

-

The next day is filled with chaos. The guys are in and out of the house at the ass crack of dawn bouncing speakers and other odds and ends you didn’t even know were in the house against each other into the back of Eddie’s van. Wearing Eddie’s necklace proudly close to your heart you make them all sit to eat breakfast burritos. They eat and leave with a flash, but not before Eddie comes back through the door. He grabs your hands, holding them softly in his calloused grip, “See you at the show?”

Smiling widely and trying to will the heat from your cheeks away, you answer, “wouldn’t be a proper babysitter if I wasn’t there to watch now would I?”

“Should have made you the janitor,” Eddie grins and as he sees you still wearing his ring around your neck, he tosses you a wink that could liquify smoke. His tall frame slinks out the door driving like a bat out of hell to go set up at the bar.

-

The jeans you’re wearing are so tight accentuating your ass to explicit levels, the worn docs you’ve had for years are perfectly broke in and comfy on your feet, the shirt Eddie made for you wrapped around your chest perfectly, the letters of bending the ‘C’ and the ‘N’ on either side.

Steve, Leighanne, Robin and Vicky pick you up around 6, Robin with her fire engine hair and fishnet stockings under holy jeans. Vicky in a plaid printed overalls and a beret. Steve and Leighanne are both wearing jet black, her in a sheer sleeved button up shirt and a long black skirt. Steve wore an old band shirt he borrowed from Eddie. Your nerves were frazzled but settled slightly when Leighanne and Robin cat called out the window as you paraded down the front steps.

The drive to the Hideout had you stifling a chunky vomit in your throat. Nervous beyond belief you couldn’t shake it. Eddie had asked you to come, made you your own shirt to wear just for tonight, he clearly wanted to see you, wanted to have you watch his band play. Breathing in and out in exaggerated breaths Steve parks the G Wagon and it’s time to go inside. Here goes nothing.

-

Eddie wasn’t kidding, the bar was busy and posters with the bands silhouette were sticking on every surface in the bar and outside of it. Outside the bar was a girl around your age, short in stature, her brown hair piled high on her head, brooding green eyes piercing your own as she smoked a cigarette, selling tickets.

Eyeing your shirt she rolls her eyes, “you must be Eddie’s special guests,” she spits, eyeing you up and down, a jealous pitch in her voice, “guest of honor my ass,” she mumbles to herself as she lets you in free of charge. The Hideout was exactly how you remembered it to be. Pungent smells of spilt liquor and cheap keg beer fill your nose, the smoky haze filling the bar is a welcomed reminder that this place was a legendary spot in Hawkins.

Eddie and the boys were on stage setting up amps and speakers. His long curls catch the light and showering the room with amber swirls of caramel and chocolate. He’s wearing a cut mid drift shirt that looks like it would fit a toddler, his tattoos and fine definitions of his hips and slight abs are on display. Every vein in his arms are protruding and river lined. He’s the single sexiest man on the planet and your body was running over with want.

“Let’s get a drink, yeah?” Steve motions to the sticky counter of the bar. A dark curly haired woman with enormous boobs and red lipstick wearing a t- shirt reading “daddy’s girl” is behind the bar. She’s familiar to you but only in passing, the more you think the more you recognize her as Max's older brother’s girlfriend. Her long red nails clack on the sticky counter as she waits impatiently for you to make a decision.

Steve orders for him and Leighanne and orders Robin a water with a straw, never living down her behavior on his birthday. Vicky and you both order beers that probably should have been cold but with the daggering stare the bartender drove into your skull you didn’t dare ask.

Pocketing the cash Steve slapped into the counter in her bra, she made her way over to the extremely intoxicated drunk girls there for a bachelorette party.

“You’re so fucking pretty, you’re like my bestfriend,” a girl with wavy brown hair and glasses slurs to her friend, her voice up an octave as they power slam fruity drinks that resemble melted skittles.

“I hope Greg realizes what you’re giving up to be with him,” the girl with pinked red hair shouts above the others her leopard print jumpsuit stretched tight across her heaving chest, fussing over her friend with cropped lavender hair’s appearance, holding her up like they’re re-enacting Weekend at Bernie’s.

The bride-to-be pouts and makes a face, “who said I’m giving up anything? This whole bar is free game and according to Jo’s guide for the night, we still have ‘make out with a mustache’ to cross off.”

Snickering as you pass them, Leighanne linked her arm through your left as you make your way to stage, sipping the lukewarm beer in the barely clean glass, its hop tickling your throat with each travel in your mouth. Corroded Coffin has gone backstage and are waiting to be announced. The bar is flooded with people young and old. Reliving their glory days one sparse balding mullet at a time.

“I had no idea Eddie was in a band,” Leighanne whispered loudly into your ear, “he was in such a bad mood when I met him I didn’t really get to know him.”

The memory of Steve’s birthday still stung but the moments after and the day after that were still singing sweetly in your soul. “He’s come around quite a bit,” you explain.

“Yeah,” she agrees, “Steve told me about the two guys he fought at work, said they were mouthing off about you and he just snapped.”

“Nothing that wasn’t deserved,” “I—uh—I took care of it.” He says in a final explanation.

The bruises on his face, the broken ribs, his cracked and bleeding mouth. That was for you? He fought two guys off because of you?

Mind spinning on its own axis you can’t grasp why he would do that for you. Why he would get himself severely hurt just because some douchebags said some shit about you. It wasn’t worth it. Your eyebrows pull inward and your heart aches even more for Eddie. He was hands down the sweetest man you’ve ever come across. Putting himself in harm’s way just to prove a point. He could have lost his job, could have gotten even more hurt than what he was. It was stupid, reckless and dangerous— but somehow you couldn’t think of anything other than your heart hammering into your chest.

A booming voice fills the speakers and coaxes your attention to the center stage. “Please welcome, all the way from Forest Hills Trailer Park, our own, Corroded Coffin!”

Eddie and the boys trot on stage, Gareth takes his seat behind his drum set, followed by Jeff picking up his bass guitar and Big D picking up his instrument, you notice him winking towards a girl beside you, the blush on her pale cheeks could be seen from another planet.

Eddie is the last out, strutting forward with his runt red warlock guitar slung around his neck and a bullet belt hanging on his slender waist. His smile radiates across his face as he approaches the mic. He looks through the crowd with twinkly eyes and when he catches your stare front and center he winks and bends down, voice low as he speaks only to you— as if no one else is in the room but the pair of you. “Prettiest girl in the world made it all the way from Cherry Lane to come and see me huh?”

“Well since you practically begged,” you quip, heat warming your cheeks as his smile spreads wider.

“Wait for me after?” Eddie asks, eyes dripping deeply into yours, cartoon hearts floating from each blink of his lashes.

His stare could heat a kettle it burned into your soul and cozied up with your heart, softening it to a beautiful graying ash. Nodding and smiling like a fool in love you can’t form words when he shoots you a wink and stands in a swift, fluid motion, grabbing the microphone and shouting, “Hawkins! Are you ready to get this party started?!” The lights beat down on the band as they begin their set for the night.

Thrashing on his guitar, Eddie starts the tinny opening to Metallica’s Wherever I May Roam, followed by Gareth beating into his drums. Having watched them play this song many times in the garage it never ceases to amaze you how deep Eddie’s voice can get in the beginning of the song, his liquid sultry tone curls around your skin and holds you tight. The cords in his neck are profound jutting out in delectable delight. A feast for the wicked. His fingers move deftly along the fretboard as he sings and plays. Hair already slicked with sweat and hanging in a curly wet curtain of onyx down his back and stuck to his face. He’s never looked better. Hardly recognizing anyone around you, you're completely enamored like a moth to a flame by his appearance, his sex appeal on fire, licking up your skin’s gasoline, orange hues in a smoldering fire.

The song finishes and Eddie yells into the mic, “I’m Eddie, and we are Corroded Coffin, if you don’t like metal or the 80’s…”

The crowd chants as Eddie holds the mic out to them, “THEN GET THE FUCK OUT!”

Screams, whoops and hollers are bouncing off every surface of the dingy blackened bar. The beginning bells of For Whom The Bell Tolls chime and the crowd goes wild. When Big D rifts the beginning of Love Bites, Eddie takes a giant swig of Jack Daniels and your tongue aches to lap up the drops coursing down his stomach and finding solace in the waistband of his jeans.

Does he need a chaser? If so, you know the perfect antidote. Hungry like a wolf for him you can feel the soaked panties between your legs, the friction of your jeans give little relief where it’s needed.

The band plays a few more songs, and you are surprised that Eddie’s voice never falters or cracks during the entire nine minutes of Freebird, he nails the guitar solo and his sweltering smooth voice hits your core with each belting ache of the sad song. Steve holds Leighanne from behind and they sway together through the lyrics, he’s whispering into her ear and she’s fighting back tears. Robin and Vicky are slow dancing in a drunken stupor of smoke, completely in their own world.

The drunken girls from the bachelorette party are each making out with men double their age, the bride is getting a piggyback ride from a balding man you recognize to be wait what? Wayne Munson, reliving his glory days and having the time of his life as her white veil is worn around his head, cigarette hung limply from his thin lips. It’s safe to say the entire bar is drunk and having one of the best nights. The bartender has a line of party go-ers to do body shots from her cleavage. It’s hot and humid in the bar but Corroded Coffin doesn’t take any breaks, they keep playing and you can tell exhaustion is evident in Eddie’s face as he sings his heart out.

Eddie’s voice booms as he grabs the mic with a maniacal laugh, he looks down at you and points to you with an outstretched palm, “this next one is for the biggest brat, pain in my ass, absolutely the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever known, we haven’t played this song in years, but I know it’s her favorite.”

Jeff starts thumbing on his bass guitar with Gareth hitting the drums, immediately you know the song. You can’t believe he remembered. It was months ago when you had mentioned it to him, asking shyly if they still played it. Eddie starts singing the first verse,

There’s a place just south of Witches Valley

Where they say the wind won’t blow

And they only speak in whispers of her name

There’s a lady they say that feeds the darkness

It eats right from her hand

With a crying shout, she’ll search you out

And freeze you where you stand

Lady Evil, evil

She’s a magical mystical woman

Lady evil, evil on my mind

She’s the queen of the night

Tears well in your eyes and you can’t help them from falling. Grabbing the necklace he had placed so delicately on you yesterday you rub the tarnished steel between your fingers. It’s not even a sappy song, but the fact he remembered from all those years ago when you were just a bratty sister to his best friend and he was an asshole teenager, made your heart soar. You were in love with him. More than just a little crush, more than just a one night fling, you wanted him as yours— yours and yours alone.

The bar is full of screaming fans, girls with their tops off, throwing their bras at the band, but Eddie’s eyes never leave yours. His soul reaches yours and tells you without words the same thing you are thinking.

The rest of the concert you stand in one spot still staring up at the beautiful man in front of you, utterly intoxicated on him. The valleys of his neck as it vibrates and stretches with his vocal chords, the veiny thick hands as they strum his guitar, his wet hair that would look so delicious wrapped around your fingers. You yearned for him, carnally desired to have those hands wrapped hotly around your skin, between your legs, on your neck. Fuck.

-

The gig ends and the boys slip backstage. “Fuck man! I haven’t seen that many people at one of your gigs ever, where the hell is Gareth?” Big D asks, squeezing a can of spray cheese into his mouth.

“Oh you know him,” Jeff chides, downing a warm beer, “he’s bumping’ uglies with his main, probably locked in the men’s bathroom again.”

They all chuckle and Eddie hurries to grab his stuff, anxious to meet you up front and buy you a drink, maybe take you out for midnight pancakes at Benny’s. Looking as beautiful as ever tonight he had a hard time keeping the gig going, all he wanted to do was jump off stage and kiss you so deeply your bones would sing from his fervor, and now that it was over, he moved into the final phase of his plan, making you his.

“Ash is waiting’ on me, you still riding with us Big D or is Em gettin’ lucky tonight?

Big D wipes his cheese filled lips, “ah I might give her the ol’ pickle tickle, hey man,” he says gesturing to Eddie, “a whole song dedicated to the most gorgeous girl huh?”

Eddie doesn’t miss a beat, “am I wrong? Tooty not pretty enough for you?”

Big D holds his hands up in surrender, “damn dude that’s not what I was getting at— I’m— we are happy for you. Don’t let her get away.”

Eddie smiled sheepishly, “that’s the plan my man,” he says slinging his worn duffel bag over his shoulder, “that’s the plan, gotta go.”

He makes his way down a narrow hallway back to the bar when he’s stopped by the twins. Arms crossed and looks of vengeance on their painted lips.

“Ladies,” Eddie greets, head down and making to pass them, but the stand stone still, blocking his way.

“Daddy,” Cece answers, “that wasn’t very nice the way you treated us the last time we played.” her lips pursed in a pretty pout, a tight faux leather mini skirt exentuating her curves.

Carol purrs as she walks towards him, her hip gripping leather pants and a denim vest adorned with band pins pushes her chest up and nearly to her eyeballs, soft Farrah curls surrounding her face and sway down her back. Her finger curled under his chin, “I think you owe us… a favor.”

“Ooh yes,” Cece agrees, “a big favor,” her hand wraps around the soft length outside his jeans. Lips pressing into his sweaty neck.

“I’m gonna pass,” Eddie says firmly, avoiding Carol’s needy fingers in his hair, “but Gareth might be up for another round, give him about a half hour or so.”

Carol grabs Eddie by his crotch and walks him back into the wall, pinning his shoulders with her arms, her lips tantalizingly close to his neck. “A song dedicated to that bitch roommate of yours?” she seethes, “how pathetic.”

Cece speaks now, her words laced with venom long slicked back pony tail cascading down her back, “bet she can’t fuck like us, word around town is her pussy was trashed by Chad Cunningham.”

Eddie instantly feels a fire in his belly; he's ready to tell them both off, ready to get to you and take you out for a meal. But when he looks up he sees you standing at the end of the hallway, eyes wide and a hand over your mouth. He calls your name but you ignore him, throwing a middle finger over your shoulder and swallowing the lump in your throat as turn on your heel and stomp away, down the hallway and through the loud chattering of drunks in the bar, passed the stage that you finally felt like you were getting somewhere with Eddie, and out the door.

The wind had picked up, blowing snow all around the parking lot. A white wall of opaque blindness, you don't have a jacket but you know the general way on how to get home. Crossing your arms across your chest you put your head down and began to trudge through the parking lot.

Not being able to fathom what you saw, you are pissed that you’re jealous. Pissed that your rockstar roommate, who was known for being a ladies man and a player, pulled one over on you. Made you think he loved you just for him to be sucking face with the twins who were at your house all those months ago. Tears sting and practically freeze to your lashes as you stomp further and further away from the hideout, heart frozen and rigid once again.

With the wind blowing hard you didn’t hear the door being flung open frantically or the loud music being sung by the drunks from the jukebox. Eddie barely catches a glimpse of your black shirt and barrels through the deepening snow to get to you. “Tooty!”

A warm hand wraps around your arm and pulls you around to face him, your eyes are like steel knives into his as he stares into them pleading with you to understand. “You gonna walk the whole way home?”

“What the fuck do you care?” you shout, trying to wiggle your arm away from him, “you must think I’m really fucking stupid huh?”

Eddie is perplexed, face twisted in confusion, “what the hell are y— Jesus Christ it’s freezing out here, let me take you home. We can argue and fight all you want without getting hypothermia.”

“No! I’m not going anywhere with you!” you cry, trying to shove him away but nearly falling in the snow. You didn’t want to be in his presence ever again. He hurt you, he made you feel like you were special, turns out you're just as common as a penny on the sidewalk, not even face up for luck.

“Tooty,” Eddie barks, voice angry, sharp and full of pain, “if I have to drag you by your goddamn hair into the van I will. I have no problem doing that. Let’s. Go.”

Shoulder checking him on your spin back through the parking lot, you stomp through the thick snow and climb into the passenger seat, shivering and pouting.

Eddie is close behind you, hands raw and red from the elements, trembling as he reaches for the knob to blast the heat. He doesn’t say anything as he pulls out of the parking lot, only looks your way to try and read your face, your peripherals catch him more than once— but you won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing your tears.

The ride home is full of slippery snow packed roads, at the stop sign before turning onto Cherry, Eddie looks your way, “are you mad at me?”

Are you mad at me? What a stupid fucking question.

“No Eddie I’m over the moon, jumping for joy, mother fucking delighted to see you with not one girl but two— groping you ready to feast on you like a snack.”

Eddie shakes his head, not wanting to argue but seeing no other way through it. “That’s all you saw huh? And where were my hands Tooty? Was I touching them?”

You think hard, unable to to process or give a shit what he was talking about. “I was too distracted to see what you were doing, sorry for leaving so soon and disrupting your rockstar ego in the act— I’m sure you’re into other people watching you fuck.”

Eddie lets out a taunting laugh that is anything but trying to be funny. He’s flabbergasted by how mean you’re being, 100% only seeing what you wanted to.

“You are seriously talking out of your ass right now, ya know that right?” Eddie sneers, pulling into the driveway, he’s hurt and like an animal, he’s lashing out, defending his pride, “Why do you even care if I am, which for the record— I’m not, with someone else? We aren’t dating, you’re not my girlfriend.”

The poisonous words sting worse than the first fight with him ever has. Not giving him a chance to explain, you throw open the door, not slamming it but leaving it wide open and stomp inside. Kicking off your boots you hear two doors slam and Eddie’s boots stomping behind you.

“Fuck!” Eddie shouts, “do you ever finish a conversa—”

“Fuck you! You wanna be some rockstar prick with his dick in anything that walks? Be my guest— but keep me out of it!” Turning to your bedroom, Eddie jumps over the couch to block your path, arms stretched across the door frame.

“We,” Eddie yells again, “are going to talk about this, stop running away from me!”

“No,” you chastise, “we aren’t!”

Eddie hears you but presses on, “why are you mad at me because you think you saw me kissing or touching those other girls?”

“Uhh,” you groan, defeated, “leave me alone.”

“Tell me,” he continues.

“No.” You announce crossing your arms.

“Tooty, Jesus Chr— tell me,” he’s losing his calm, agitated by your bratty attitude and refusal to talk to him.

Fidgeting and stamping your foot you don’t want to give in to him, can’t tell him why you’re so upset. How embarrassing to tell someone you’re jealous.

“Eddie— get the fuck out of my way.”

“Tell me why and I will, be a big girl, use your words,” his venomous teasing only fuels your fire.

“Jesus Christ you incessant fucking gnat! Get out of the way!”

Eddie presses forward, inching towards you, making you draw away from him, “are you jealous, Tooty?”

The word makes your cheeks heat, admission written all over your face as he keeps pressing into you further, your back is at the wall and his arms box you in, face inches from yours. “Did seeing me with someone else make you mad?”

Grumbling his name you try to push away from him but he is persistent. “Tell me I’m not crazy, baby.” His whispered tone seeps through your skin, flooding your panties even more, your heart screaming with each beat, mind inching you impossibly closer to him.

“Tell me you want this just as much as I do,” his hooded eyes, pour into yours, licked lips wet with spit.

Toes in the water, it’s surprisingly warm despite the frigid cold of the weather outside, but he’s been keeping you warm now for months.

Hands on his chest you finger the holes in the neck of his shirt. His cold wet hair tickling your hands as you yank him closer to you, practically bumping noses, “you’re not crazy, but I will be if you don’t kiss me.”

Hesitation long forgotten, the smooth silk of your lips are hugged tight against Eddie’s pinked and chapped ones. Floating higher to the galaxy he swore he would take you to, tank full of gas, dancing you around in his arms on Saturn’s rings, diving head first into Jupiter’s springs.

Blissfully euphoric is the language of your spilled lust infused love.

-

for readmore 🦋

[seatnights]

Who are some of your favorite fan fiction writers?

i spent hours to collect usernames of authors i enjoyed reading from, and i’m sure i missed some, but i tried.

are u ready for this?

authors you SHOULD support:

oneforthemunny / icallhimjoey / jamdoughnutmagician / rosebudsgarden / willowsgri / joequinnisgod / eddiemunsons80sbaby / chrrymunson / eddiemunsonswhxre / lonelysatellites / loveshotzz / usedtobecooler / carolmunson / upsidedownwithsteve / sherifftillman / spicysix / emsgoodthinkin / retrobutterflies / tiannasfanfic / athena-writes-i-guess / shesinchargeareyoukidding / cooliestghouliest / singularattitudeofasafetypin / babybluebex / quinnyfairy / moonchildquinn / i-me-mine / luveline / myosotisa / silent-stories / blueywrites / steviesbicrisis / munson-blurbs / ficsbypix / lovejosephquinn / eddieschains / prettyboyeddiemunson / eddieandbird /pleasantlycrazyworld / corroded-hellfire / trashmouth-richie / justmeinadaze / mopeymopeymouse / munsonslilbunnie / keeponquinning / gatorstillman / allthingsjoeq / jadeylovesmarvelxo / mysticmunson / sugarsblurbs / taintedcigs / gag-me-munson / gravedigginbbydoll / ratskcoreddie / andvys / manicpixiedreamcurl / thruheavenandhighwater / joejoequinnquinn / munsonsreputation / upsidedownmvnson / hellfiresmaster / elightysixbaby / eddiessluttywaist / littledemondani / choke-me-eddie / eddiemunsonsmum / eddiemunsonfuxks / pinkrelish / hllfireclb / indulgence-be-thy-name / wheels-of-despair / hellfiremunsonn / filthyjoetini / ghost-proofbaby / havecourage-darling / forever-rogue / queenimmadolla / josephfakingquinn / roanniom / bimbobaggins69 / songforeddiemunson / munsons-hellfire / honey-flustered / eddie-van-munson / storiesbyrhi / lovebugism / neonghostlights / harrywavycurly / chestylarouxx / courtingchaos / galaxy-siren / harringtons-cupid / hard-candy-writing / wroteclassicaly / raccoonboywrites / dr-aculaaa / palomahasenteredthechat / palomahasenteredthechat / forevermoreharrington / corrodedcorpses / strangerquinns / sunnythevampireslayer / lesservillain / stevenose / eddiesxangel / stveharringtn / spookysteddie / keeksandgigz / darlingsfandom / her-power / idkidknemore / francisquinn / inkluvs / ashwhowrites / hellfire--cult / succubusmunson / v8mpstamp / stevieswhore / munsons-maiden / rustboxstarr / corrodedseraphine / reidsbtch / lexlec / katiemcrae / the-unforgivenn / keerysfolklore / appocalipse / familyvideowithsteve / tiannamortis / joekeeryswife / bettyfrommars / cinemamunson / munson-mjstan / teddyeyeseddie / lofaewrites / mediocredreams / leasstories

OK SO

here we have 137 authors, i didn’t tag anyone cuz i would probably have disturbed half of the fandom, sorry if it’s more difficult this way, but i hope i could help you a bit.

obviously, there’s no order of preference of any kind, and i tried to put as many authors as i could but i know i’ve missed someone. if i did, i’m deeply sorry, it wasn’t on purpose and i have nothing against you! if you wish you can message me or slide in my ask and ill add you immediately!

now, i’m a bit tired after all of this, and my hand hurts but:

DON’T FORGET TO SUPPORT THE AUTHORS!!!

they put their works for free!!! everyone can enjoy media and content for free thanks to them! and it cost you nothing to reblog and share their work.

thank you for every creators / writers/ artist out there to make every single works of yours and sharing them with the world. all of you deserve so much, and thanks to you for so many people the day gets better, it’s like having a sweet little treat, like taking care of yourself, like finding a place where you are understood. so, thank you infinitely. keep it up cause you’re doing amazing!

-🤍🌻🌱

[superblysubpar]

Happy Sunday Rec night! Maybe this is the week I finally get on top of my shit and catch up on reading and post these every week instead of waiting months to make these long ass ones? Who knows. Tune in next Sunday to find out.

Please reblog and share why you love your favorite writer's work! They can't read your thoughts from a simple like. If you can't reblog or comment, consider sending a sweet anon message in support, it could really make someone's day and it will also encourage your favorite writer(s) to keep writing the work you love!💛

Find previous recs on @superbreblogger my fic rec blog or on my pinned post under "critic's choice"

Happy reading and have a great week!

Steve Harrington

untitled mutual masturbation with AIRWIY Steve by @loveshotzz - smut

untitled facial with Steve by @roanniom - smut

untitled father's day with stobin by @shares-a-vest - fluffy angst

melancholy by @rustedhearts - angst

chocolate by @upsidedownwithsteve - smut

untitled sneaking around with Colors Steve by @loveshotzz - smut

untitled kissing all of Steve's moles and freckles by @hungharrington - fluff

Bad For Business: The Bonus Level by @upsidedownwithsteve- smut

untitled romance books by @cherrychilli - smut

steve's reactions to crisis by @hawkins83 - angst

underwear by @upsidedownwithsteve - smut

birthday by @upsidedownwithsteve - smut

untitled birthday with AIRWIY Steve by @loveshotzz - smut

Wake Up Slow by @carolmunson - fluff

untitled giving steve a hickey by @loveshotzz - smut

Melt With You (Pt 1 to My Name's Elvira) by @loveshotzz - fluff

untitled trying new postition with AIRWIY Steve by @loveshotzz - smut

Love Sucks 1: The Beginning by @upsidedownwithsteve

Love Sucks 2: The Interrogation by @upsidedownwithsteve

surrounded by your embrace by @stevebabey - fluff

Love Sucks 3: The Hunt by @upsidedownwithsteve

Petrichor by @rosewaterandivy - smut

chapter one: ticket to anywhere by @abibliophobiaa - this series will contain angst, fluff, and smut

Hell To Pay - The Prologue: The Warmth of Your Doorway by @rosewaterandivy - this series may contain angst, fluff, smut

anxious to run into you imagine AIRWIY Steve by @carolmunson - fluff

Eddie Munson

Torn: Song 1. Scar Tissue by @sweetsweetjellybean - this series will contain angst, fluff, and smut

untitled checking for ticks by @familyvideostevie - smut

A Need by @courtingchaos - smut

Torn: Song 2. Sour Girl by @sweetsweetjellybean - this series will contain angst, fluff, and smut

untitled birthday smut with whatta man eddie by @loveshotzz - smut

Untitled No. 1 by @courtingchaos - smut

untitled healing with eddie by @carolmunson - angst

early morning snow by @chechelia - fluff

eddie's bed headcanons by @deadboyfriendd - fluff

untitled pregnancy cravings by @chechelia - fluff

Torn: Song 3: Disarm by @sweetsweetjellybean - this series will contain angst, fluff, and smut

eddie guitar pick imagine by @starlightsearches - fluffy smut

untitled sound tech eddie by @carolmunson - fluff

untitled bard!renfaire!eddie iamgine by @carolmunson - fluff

Steddie, Stobin, and Everything Stranger Things:

public by @upsidedownwithsteve - smut (steddie x reader)

kinktober, day 7 - somnophilia by @aphrogeneias - smut (tech steve x reader, but a hint of eddie listening so here she goes)

The V Card by @palmtreesx3 - *this series dives into Steve AND Robin with their friendship as well as chapters focused on their love lives/partners separately - this series will contain angst, fluff, and smut

Aphrodisiac by @palmtreesx3 *see above note

Lubrication by @palmtreesx3 *see above note

untitled emmy was in a mood and we all died by @upsidedownwithsteve - smut (steddie x reader)

Series I'm Currently Reading & Recommend:

Talking In Your Sleep by @abibliophobiaa - ongoing

Orange Colored Sky by @carolmunson - ongoing

Let's Go, Don't Wait by @carolmunson - ongoing

Get Off by @palmtreesx3 - ongoing

My Name's Elvira, But You Can Call Me Tonight - by @loveshotzz - completed

Torn - by @sweetsweetjellybean - ongoing

Right Where You Left Me - by @abibliophobiaa - ongoing

[loveshotzz]

Leighanne’s June Fic Rec’s

inspired by @superblysubpar & @ghost-proofbaby I reblog as much as I can but I’d like to try and do one of these once a month to share some of my favorites. (also these all came out around various times of the year, just some of my faves i think of from time to time.)

all of these writers blogs are 18+ please respect their boundaries and read all their warnings and make sure to go and tell them how much you loved whatever fic by them you read. it truly fuels our creativity knowing people like what we’re doing. i can’t tell you how many times literally one person saying something nice about my writing has made my whole day. I think about your sweet reblogs all the time and re read them on my bad days 💕 and i know other writers do too.

Eddie Munson

@carolmunson - Love Language

@chestylarouxx - Bite Me, Please

@courtingchaos - Braised

@superblysubpar - Might Love Me, Baby

@newlips - That feel good baby? // The Sheep

@abibliophobiaa - Begin Again

@boomhauer - Disjointed

@lilacletter - Eddie listening to you when you get spoken over

@ghost-proofbaby - Summertime & Stardust

@bewilderedbunny - Weed Man

@trashmouth-richie - Best friends Blurb

@myosotisa - I’m starvin’ darlin’

Steve Harrington

@rustedhearts - The King of The Ring

@stevenose - Camboy Steve Series

@carolmunson - Always Something There To Remind Me // PBV!steve series

@superblysubpar - We’ll Call It Love & Summertime Magic - Steve’s story

@sweetsweetjellybean - If Tomorrow Never Comes

@upsidedownwithsteve - A Slow Motion Love Potion

@abibliophobiaa - Beyond

@lilacletter - Keep Trying // It’s golden, like daylight

@dr-aculaaa - Dad!Steve series

@roanniom - The Shift

@usedtobecooler - Alt!reader x king!steve (my request 🥰)

@wroteclassicaly - going crazy for steve’s happy trail

Steddie x Reader

@sweetsweetjellybean - Aftermath

@newlips - dtotd steddie x reader

@upsidedownwithsteve - Something Unholy

@blueywrites - To Know You’re Mine

@lilacletter - invisible string

Gator Tillman

@courtingchaos - Shared Inflicted Pain & the oneshots that follow.

@wroteclassicaly - Gator shows you he owns you

(I’m sure I forgot so many, but there’s always next month. I love all of you so much 💕)

[hellfiremunsonn]

💿 oh oh oh I know you said shuffle, but what’s your favorite love song????

EEEEEE omg great question (it doesn’t have to be shuffled!!!)

I dont know why but Long way home by 5 Seconds of summer has always felt like love to me? It just fills my heart everytime I hear it.

[wroteclassicaly]

During that one summer!!! I’m asking with grabby hands

Thanks for this, love! 😘 💓

Okay, sooooooo, I don’t have anything concrete written for this yet, but I do have a solid storyline planned out and a sentence & summary written! And so, that’s what I’ll post here! I hope that’s okay?

~*~

Summary: You’re a confident plus sized woman, and Eddie and Steve are challenged by Billy Hargrove (to see who can fuck you first). You find out about the challenges and you decide that you’re going to rock their worlds and hurt them back, before they can fulfill their ends of the bets. But, shit happens in the process…

Steve thinks he can teach you something more from his side of his social status.

Eddie thinks that he can.

But it’s you who teaches them…

Snippet:

Steve is immediately on high alert, his thumb pad caressing the silk yellow petal of the sunflower. It’s one of many in a bouquet that’s dressed to accentuate your small kitchen table. “Why do you have these? Who bought them?”

It’s not exactly Munson’s style, nor is it within his price range, Steve gives himself an internal snark. And Steve knows he sure as hell didn’t buy them for you. A simmer in his bloodstream warms his cheeks, makes his palms slick with a cool sweat. You’re speaking, sounding dumbfounded and amused, chastising him like he’s a child.

“I did, Steve.”

“Why?”

Steve, bless his little mean boy heart. You almost feel bad for his trip to the land of oblivion. Must be all that delicious hair…

You shift from one sock clad foot to the other, cartoon characters decorating the fabric staring up at you. “Because they were pretty.”

He still looks confused, raising a brow. You continue on with a sigh. “I was grocery shopping, I wanted something fresh for my table. They were there, I could afford them. Is that a problem?”

WIP Game

[chaoticoffin]

EXCUSE ME. THIS WAS 3K WORDS OF PURE MAGIC. bro wtf?!?!?!

Older professor Eddie can shove his fingers in my mouth till I die. I'm buzzing right now.

(secretly you wrote this fic for you and me exclusively, it's the only thing that makes sense. Nothing else explains how many things here that hit.)

The ambience in this one is next level. Little mysterious, sensual, and elegant.

He's so odgeodvrwsv9whwidd in this fic. Just confident and dirty and so so sweet. Holy fuck. When he asks if she bought the piece for him and he gets giddy at 'only you'

Gonna just talk about his appearance next because you know I've got it bad for this. You get me.

Dad bod Eddie with scars ITS EXQUISITE. Let me at him. Please. Need him more than air.

The fucking glasses comment. and the cheeky little 'it pairs well with you, I'M DYING.' SOO good.

love love love love this feeling, this line. beautiful.

whimpering as he falls apart. ugh God the fucking hold he keeps on you the entire time, fingers in your mouth, gripping your neck, your jaw.

When is it gonna be my turn

His poor knees and back. 😭 The jokes at the end and he has a key as a gift, wrote us a letter. He's too good for us. Too pure.

I'm so. I'm so. This was fucking perfection.

bonus: cause if I actually added all the SS I took, it would have basically been the entire fic so these were other parts I LOVED LOVED.

Pure Academia

Pairing: Older Professor!Eddie x Older Reader

Summary: You and Eddie get to have a little alone time in his office.

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: Not really a warning, but Eddie is 56 and reader is in their 30's, do with that what you will. Soft dom stuff if you squint, a little drinking. (18+ NSFW)

A/N: Hey besties, this is another one for @newlips milestone of love. I promise it's the last one, I just had a stroke of luck happen these past few days and was able to get these out. I rolled a 15 on @word-wytch list and got Professor!Eddie! There's like a lot of hands in mouths in this, I'm obviously going through something. Have fun out there kids!

“You get dinner without me?”

He can see you sitting with your legs crossed, perched on the edge of his desk in the shadow of his dim office. He was sure he’d left the lights on when he left. 

“Why are you hiding in the dark?” When he pulls the door closed behind him, he makes sure to click the lock. Goes to flip the light switch and you let out an ‘ah!’, clicking your tongue at him. 

“Did that on purpose. I have a surprise for you.”

“Oh?”

“We’re celebrating.”

“Oh we are?”

“Mhm.” The ambient light from outside casts through the blinds and over you. He can make out your outstretched arm, beckoning finger curling towards him. He smiles at you but doesn’t move forward, just takes his jacket off and hangs it on the hook behind the door. 

“What are we celebrating?”

“I just filed my paperwork for graduation.” 

He knows this, saw the email you CC’d him on before he left earlier. 

“Oh did you now?” 

You drop your hand and he takes a few steps forward, notices the open bottle of wine beside you, your shoes on the floor. His eyes trail up your bare feet swinging a little over the side of the desk, calves flexing with the movement. 

“Is that a new dress?” He’s got his hands in his pockets so you don’t see him clenching his fists. So you don’t see how quickly he’s falling for this little display. 

“Bought it this morning.” You sound so proud, and you should be. 7 years of school finally done, masters degree in your clutches. He thinks you deserve all the things you want actually, damn the price. 

Takes those final few steps, reaches out to run a finger over your bare knee. You circle his wrist and huff through your nose, playing with the leather banded watch there. 

“It looks good. Is this what you’re gonna wear under your gown?”

“Nope. This one’s just for you.” You look up at him through your lashes, eyes heavy and shining. You’re not drunk but you’ve obviously started the party without him. 

Your hand trails up his arm from his wrist, fingertips tracing over all the ink there. Stopping at the rolled cuff of his button up you slide your fingers under to gently grip at his elbow. “I saw it and thought of you.” Rubbing your fingers softly over his skin, your other hand moves to slide the hem up your thigh a little more, the black silk cool against you. 

It’s a slinky little thing, just long enough to cover your ass, the back wide open and dipping low. It clings to your shoulders with thin straps and drapes down low in the front to show off your deep cleavage. His eyes have been roaming all over you since he walked in, taking in your body under the cling of the silk. He dances his fingers up your thigh to clutch at the soft skin there. Watches your eyelashes flutter. 

“You think about me when you buy pretty things?” Voice deep and hushed he’s moved fully into your space now, breath ghosting over your cheek. You uncross your legs so you can scoot closer and cage his hips in with your knees. He keeps a grip on your thigh and you wish he’d just grab you up to him already. 

“Always.”

“Just me?”

“Only you.” The smirk on your face has him blushing while you move to unbutton his shirt, your fingers making him giddy and he feels like he’s 20 again and fumbling around in the dark for the first time. 

Only you.

He pulls his hands from your body, only to still yours at his buttons. 

“What?” You look a little confused, tilt your head at him and continue smirking. 

He pauses to smile back at you, eyes crinkling at the corners, taking a moment to just hold your hands in his. 

You can feel his heartbeat under his shirt, can feel it speed up a little when he smiles down at you and he’s just so handsome. You’ve seen photos of him in his 20’s and while you know you would have still fallen for him then, it can’t compare to now. The low light catches the silver shot through his dark brown hair, curls pulled back loose behind him. He’s covered in tattoos, though all placed to be hidden under a collar and cuffs. 

‘Such is the life of an English professor.’

The rings on his hands are more subtle now, more expensive, where they sit warm on yours. He’s a lot more put together, more presentable. Any time you’ve said that he pulls a face, crosses his eyes and sticks his tongue out at you. 

‘Only at work, Ed.’ 

The time you two spend alone outside of his office is sacred, no peerage around to stare and ask questions. No students knocking his office door down with questions that have answers in the syllabus. 

He’s relaxed and goofy; comfortable and engaged. 

Most importantly unbuttoned, which you set to work at again while his eyes roam your face. You can feel a blush starting to form at the crux of your chest. It blossoms up and over your neck, behind your ears. It isn’t just the wine making your neck hot, mostly it’s his intense stare keeping track of your movements. His hands fall and slide up to your hips, inching the already short slip further up. His thumbs nearly brush each other, hands splayed so wide across the tops of your thighs and when he swipes them up under the hem, he lets out a huff. Glances down and back up at you. “No underwear?”

You shake your head and grin, cheeks rosy and eyes glittering. “Told you I had a surprise.” 

Untucking his shirt to finally pull it off and throw it on the chair behind him, immediately trying to work your hands up inside his undershirt to touch his stomach. 

He’s all soft skin and softer belly, a thing he admonishes you for liking so much. You make it a point every time he rolls his eyes, to show him just how much it means to you. Tracing all his tattoos across his chest down to his hips, fingertips light and lips heavier, especially around the big scars that litter his body. He’s never fully explained, doesn’t need to for you to see how much they bother him so it’s no problem, your pleasure in fact, to remind him just how handsome he is. 

With your hands busy trailing hot across his chest he takes his opportunity to pull your hem up fully and hold the bunched fabric against your hip in his left hand. His right glides up between your thighs and he runs his index finger lightly up the middle of you. It makes you shiver, eyes falling shut for a moment. He does it again, this time slipping three fingers in to flutter through your folds and up and over your clit. Your nails dig in lightly at his pecks and he’s in love with the little noises you’re making. 

He keeps up the movement, gentle and light and repetitive until you’ve dropped your forehead on his chest, breath hot and damp against the cotton of his shirt. You can feel the laugh rumble out of him but you’re too busy watching his fingers move deftly between your legs to say anything. 

“You watchin’ me?” He leans his head down, whispers it into your hair and digs his left hand in a little tighter to your hip. 

“Yes.” You breath out, dropping your hands to grip at his belt to try and pull him closer. He won’t budge but he does bump your knee with his thigh, suggesting you open your legs wider. His fingers keep their light pace but only over your clit, the three fingers strumming over and over and you’d like to make a joke about not being one of his hollow bodies but it dies on your tongue when he tips your chin up to look at him.

Thumb running over your bottom lip, he pulls at it and leans in for a soft kiss. You let out a moan and he swallows it, takes the opportunity to sink two fingers into you and you buckle. His hand moves from your chin to your jaw to hold you in place while he curls his fingers upwards and there it is. He watches your eyes roll back, sees the shudder that rolls through your shoulders. 

You want to drop your head back and whine but he’s got a grip on you, gives your head a little shake. 

“Hey, look at me.” 

You bring your attention back to his face. His words are soft, tone quiet but the pressure from his hand keeps you still. Forces you to stare at him. He keeps eye contact and pulls your face closer so your lips ghost over each other, breath spilling between you two while he speeds up his movements. The slick sound of his fingers working you open fill the quiet of his office, your whimpers swallowed up by his mouth hovering. 

“You look beautiful baby.” He murmurs, slowing down his hand to drag his fingertips along that sensitive spot deep in your cunt, grinds the heel of his palm up against your clit. Your breath hitches in your chest with his movements but you smile, a quiet ‘thank you’ whispered up at him. 

His hand wanders from your jaw to hold the back of your neck and pin you in place, keeping you as still as he can when he moves his fingers faster. He can feel you clenching around him, can hear how close you’re getting. Between the near constant whine coming out of you and the grip you have on his belt he knows to pull back his hand. It takes a second for you to register, devastated, that he’s stopped. 

“Ed?”

“You think I’m just going to finger you on my desk like we’re freshmen?” 

God, you were so close, he can see it in the glazed over confusion in your eyes. 

“I don’t care it felt good.” A quiver of your bottom lip, impatience laced in your words. 

“Oh I know baby, I’m sorry.” He coos at you. Runs the middle finger of his right hand, the one soaked in you, across your bottom lip. He wants to pinch the plushness between his fingers and pull it down, watch it pop back into place. Ed loves your mouth, all of it, but especially your lips. Soft and warm and pink-

Your tongue snakes out and wraps around his finger, drawing it in. The soft velvet of your mouth reminds him of where those fingers were a moment ago and he pushes his ring finger in too. You moan around his hand and while he’s distracted you finally get his belt undone, whipping it out of the loops and sending it clattering beside you. 

The hand on your neck tightens, “Do you taste good? Hm?” There’s a breathlessness to him now watching you suck on his fingers. “Gonna let me have a taste?”

He pulls his hand away with a wet pop from your lips. Where you think he’ll come in for a kiss he instead drops down to his knees, both hands kneading at the sensitive inside of your thighs. A last glance upward before he dives in to run the full flat of his tongue up your sex and over your clit. A gasp and a throaty laugh escape you and you thread a hand into his hair, pulling out the tie to let his curls loose. They’re soft where they fall against your legs and Ed shakes his head against you. The light dusting of stubble on his jaw scratches, a burn that you relish, and the contrast of it and his firm tongue put you right back on the precipice. 

“Ed-Eddie oh my god I missed you today.” You’re talking, trying to keep your focus so this isn’t all over too soon. You can feel him smile before he changes it up, licking up to suck on your clit. “Oh fuck-k me.” 

“Plan on it.” He mumbles against your skin. You have to lean back on your free hand so you don’t topple over off the desk. From this new angle you can watch him over your chest, his dark eyes flicking up to you when you shift back. One of his big hands slides up your dress and yanks down on the fabric. He only breaks the suction on you to tell you to move the straps of the dress. 

“Don’t want to rip this.”

Shimmying the top down to bunch at your waist, his hand finds your skin again, rough pads of his fingers skate over your nipple and you jump slightly. When he pinches one your head rolls back and you finally get to let out that whine. He takes that as a cue and brings his fingers back, circling your entrance to tease before dipping back in. 

That’s all it takes, one little brush upwards. Your hand in his hair tightens and pulls and his eyes roll back in his head. His senses full of you when your thighs squeeze around his ears and you gush on his fingers, taste as sweet as ever. 

He lets off of you sensitive bud with a pop, a shiver going up your spine when he keeps pumping his fingers in and out. 

“Eddie, I th-thought we-we weren’t fresh-man.” You stutter at him, overstimulated, hand coming from behind you to wind between your legs, grabbing his wrist in a weak attempt to stop him. 

“No, but you just feel so god damn good.” His voice is husky and he punctuates his statement with a final deep flutter of his fingers. Pulls them out and wiggles them in your face. 

“Open.”

You’re breathing heavy, hand still wrapped in his hair. You stare hard at him before opening your mouth again, eyelids drooping when he places three fingers on your tongue. 

“Close.”

He doesn’t need to tell you to suck. 

You thought he was done with you but his tongue is wicked when he licks at your cunt again, tip dipping in to taste. The groan vibrates out of him and you clench down. Thighs tight around his head, teeth digging into his knuckles. 

A few more broad tongued laps at you and he stands up, keeps his fingers in your mouth. Your hand drops from his head; wild eyes follow his movements where he leans over to grab the wine bottle. He takes a swig, eyes never leaving yours. He moves his fingers in your mouth and raises an eyebrow. 

Keep sucking.

You do and he takes another sip. Pulls the bottle down to squint at it in the dark, to mutter. 

“Need my fucking glasses…this my Sullivan Merlot?”

You shake your head and mumble around his hand ‘no I bought it this morning.’ Ed nods like he understood you. 

“Well it pairs well with you, don’t you think?”

A nod from you, a chuckle from him. One last sip and he sets the bottle down and removes his fingers suddenly. 

“Oh…”

“Hold on babe.” He undoes his pants and pushes them down with his underwear just past his hips. Your breathing has picked up again at the sight of him, the tattoos on his thighs just peeking out over the band of his boxers. Cock heavy and flushed, he uses the hand covered in your spit to squeeze at the fat head before sliding back down, languidly giving himself a few strokes. 

“You know I’m proud of you, right?” He grins at you watching him stroke himself. Knows he’s got you right where he wants you. “Baby?”

“Yea.” Your eyes snap up to his. Soft hands grab for him and he lets you take over, a low groan when you wrap around his length. Your other hand grips his balls and the groan gets louder, longer. 

“Good girl.”

You love watching him break down like this. When he has to lean forward into you, hands braced on either side of your hips while you move your hand up and down. The subtle rocking of his hips. You try to lean your head down to spit on his cock but a firm ‘no’ makes you look back up at him. 

“C’mere.” Big hands pull you towards the edge, almost off the desk and he uses one to move your own hands off of him. With nothing to grab, they fall on his shoulders and wind up in his locks again to tug. 

“Keep doing that.”

Another pull and he slides the fat head of his cock against your folds and over your abused clit. It makes you gasp and he does it again a few times to feel your legs shake and jump around him. He taps your knee and you wrap your thighs around him. 

He sinks in like he’s never left, you both sigh like it’s been years. Fingers flex at his scalp and his eyes roll back again, snaps his hips back to slam into you. It punches out a cry and he knows he’s hitting you deep, feels how quick you squeeze down on him. 

“Jesus you feel amazing.” 

“Ed please move.” Your heels dig into his lower back and a hand moves down his front, splaying flat against his stomach. He rolls his hips again and watches your mouth fall open on a silent whimper. 

“Like that?”

You nod, hand scrambling to ruck the hem of his shirt up. Hot palm against his hot skin where it runs up and over the edge of one of the old scars. 

One last snap of his hips before he brings his right hand up to stuff fingers back on your tongue. Your laugh turns into a moan turns into something garbled around his hand when he starts fucking into you. Holding you in place with a hand planted behind you and the one gripping your jaw, he looses himself in you for a while. 

You pull at his hair when you feel yourself getting close again, another orgasm waiting to burn through you but it doesn’t slow him down. Mumbled string of his name in your already full mouth you go stiff for a moment and then loose, a long cry pitching high and whiny and he pulls you closer. He’s relentless, his cock hitting deep on every stroke and he starts to feel the building of his own release. 

Drops his head into the crook of your neck and kisses wherever he can reach. When he feels your jaw unclench he moves his hand to cradle your head, moves up your neck and to your swollen lips. You pull at him again, strands still wound around your fist, and he kisses you hard. Slips his tongue between your teeth and you taste like merlot and your own spend and he can hear himself desperately whimpering. He barely registers it, the stutter of his movements before it sneaks up on him. 

Your nails drag across his skin and his scar, the tugging on the back of his head and he’s undone. Eyes squeezing shut, a muttered ‘fuck fuck fuck’ punctuating the rock of his hips where he comes deep in you, can feel you pulling him in tighter with your legs. 

When the ringing of his ears starts to fade he feels your hands warm against his face, your lips dotting kisses. 

“I love you Ed.” Whispered against the bridge of his nose. “You’re so good to me.” Against the lines around his eyes. “Thank you thank you thank you.” Against the underside of his jaw, up against the slowing pulse point. 

He’s trying to catch his breath and stay close to you. Fully enjoying the soft doting of you while he comes back down to earth. 

He notices his knees first, the ache creeping the same way his back probably will soon. There’s a reason you two are always in a bed when you do this. 

“Hey, come back here with me.” He pulls out of you, hissing slightly, and leans back to fall into the plush visitor chair behind him. Waves a hand at you to follow. When you stand you let the dress fall off your hips and Eddie halfheartedly wolf whistles.

“You know, if I wasn’t such a fucking old man I’d say that’d set me up for round two.” It’s self depreciating, his own ageism against himself. 

“You need like two hours and you’re ready to go again. No big deal.” You wave him off and climb into his lap, legs draped over the arm of the chair and tucked up under his chin. 

“Two hours and a blue pill.”

“Oh you mean your aleve?”

He swats at your exposed tit and you yelp. Call him a dick and he just sticks his tongue out at you. A few minutes of bickering and you shut him up with a kiss. 

“Now’s the time to ask for a really nice graduation present.” He thinks he’s funny. You don’t know it but he’s got your copy of the key to his brownstone in his desk. Got a nice little box and everything. Put his own masters degree to good use and wrote you a good long letter about moving in and on with him. 

You fiddle with the watch on the arm that's wrapped around you. Cheeky, you ask, “Can I get a matching Breitling?”

“You know Steve got me that for my 50th, right?”

“Okay, can Steve get me a matching one?”

Eddie laughs and pulls you close again, your nose nestled against his throat. 

"I'll ask him."

[pollenallergie]

am i about to watch the shape of water just to satisfy my river monster!eddie cravings? yes, yes i am.

am i supposed to be studying for a biochem test right now? also yes.

but river monster!eddie is more important <3

[carolmunson]

the boy is mine | a writing exercise

excuse me, can i please talk to you for a minute? do you know somebody named...y-you know his name. oh yeah, definitely, i know his name. well, i just want to let you know that he's mine. no, no, he's mine.

hi, this is carol and i wanted to create a fun blurb writing exercise a la @superblysubpar and @chechelia considering the current state of the eddie munson x reader fandom. i, personally, can barely stand the seemingly never ending infighting between writers and groups on here. whether it be writing style or characterization, it seems everyone sort of has a problem with everyone. (not me tho, i truly am vibing). in the words of monica and brandy 'you need to give it up, had about enough'. -- so instead of leaving, i wanted to try something fun, fresh, and cute to bring us together. we all have our own eddie munson head cannons that we hold near and dear to our hearts. but i think that's part of what's fun about fandom, there's a little something for everyone. so this exercise is a way for us to all be on the same playing field -- same prompt/dialogues we have to use. only written how your personally HC eddie, our og guy (no au versions pls). i loved how this manifested on cece's old blog because it was so fun to see what people came up with. below is the dialogue and prompt as well as the best way to participate. yes, if you are a steve girl you can participate lol. if you are someone who has me blocked and/or vice versa and would like to participate, please send your link to a friend so i can add it in an upcoming masterlist.

the scene: a romantic night in at the trailer. props included/mentioned (in passing or can hold bigger meaning): a throw pillow, vanilla frosting, a small notebook. dialogue included (can be manipulated slightly if needed, can be placed in any order): - "i ran out of like, nice cups, is this okay?" - "aw, don't be like that. that's not even true." - "and you like that?" - "if you don't stop, we're gonna have a problem." these don't have to be sexy. they don't have to lead to anything. it's just a romantic night in -- and it can end in anything. angst, fluff, smut, alien invasion. who cares! i just wanna see how you'd write in your world with YOUR eddie. so we can see all of our eddies!

to participate, please write a blurb or ficlet titled 'the boy is mine (____'s edition)' and tag me so that i can add you to the upcoming masterlist. share each other's ficlets. enjoy how they differ and how they are the same. what do we all think is true? what do we differ on? i think this could be really cool.

here's a list of people i'm tagging from different 'x reader' groups to spread the word -- but everyone feel free to do it, please! share with your friends, encourage your friends to do it too: @loveshotzz @chechelia @abibliophobiaa @aphrogeneias @jo-harrington @bewilderedbunny @impmunson @queenimmadolla @oneforthemunny @superblysubpar @sweetsweetjellybean @rebelfell @crappymixtape @lesservillain @courtingchaos @bettyfrommars @somnambulic-thing @bimbobaggins69 @blueywrites @lonelysatellites @wroteclassicaly @wheels-of-despair @rip-quizilla @upsidedownwithsteve @powderblueblood

[livingintheupsidedown]

Welcome to Family Video!

hi! welcome back to family video! thanks for checking out some of our stock last time, sales really went up! i.. don't know why i told you that.. anyway! if you need help with anything me and my colleagues are more than happy to help! (please ignore them bickering, we're really approachable i swear)

oh also! anything marked with an * is 18+! we have to do that now for...legal reasons

march's recommendations:

steve harrington -

come back to me pt.2 & pt.3 by @crappymixtape

single thread pt.2 by @keeryshouse

bad idea by @abibliophobiaa *

a couple days in ch.1 & ch.2 by @upsidedownwithsteve - modern!steve *

don't call me baby pt.5 by @katyswrites - sugardaddy!steve *

bathroom sex with steve by @stevestummy *

super special secret by @superblysubpar - dad!steve

fearless by @munsonsreputation

sweetness by @upsidedownwithsteve *

soon you'll get better ch.1 by @munsonsreputation

not so family video by @lucasnclair

hate sex with steve blurb by @stevenose *

pretty boy by @rustedhearts - boxer!steve

the one where chaos comes out to play by @harringtonswriting - spidy!steve

eddie munson -

dangerous by @courtingchaos *

the yes policy pt.9 by @pinkrelish

let's go, don't wait by @carolmunson - modern!eddie *

if it barks pt.2 by @luveline - rockstar!eddie

wayne's world by @queenimmadolla - dad!eddie

steddie -

up in flames by @ghost-proofbaby *

we hope to see you again soon!