#Eddie Munson Fanfic
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bangaveragewhitewine · 2 days ago
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⋆⁺₊❅ meet the parents
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single dad Eddie Munson x single mom Reader
Word Count: 4.7k
Summary: For my fourth and final fic of @littlexdeaths The Twelve Days of Promptmas, I bring you a romcom-worthy meet cute! A one-night stand in a small town is always a dangerous game.
Content: Eddie and Reader are both single parents. Modern AU. P in V and oral sex. Too many feelings for a one-night stand. Reader’s shitty ex mention. Small town dynamics. Light on Christmas, heavy on Eddie being a sexy menace. If you see any typos/messy sentences lmk!!
Just an extra little note to say the biggest THANK YOU to @littlexdeaths for putting together these wonderful Promptmas ideas, and for just being completely lovely and amazing too. I have had such a fun few weeks working on writing again, it’s been a crazy few months for me personally so this has been the best way to get back into writing and feeling creative again!! I’ve loved every minute ❤️
✨bang average festive fics✨ Eddie Munson fics ✨Dividers by @strangergraphics✨
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It has been quite a few years since you woke up in a stranger’s bed. 
More used to the morning time routine of trying to get a sleepy six-year-old up and ready for the day, or the heartwarming feeling of said six-year-old making her way into your bed to cuddle on sleepy Sundays, you feel a little out of your depth this morning.
And some degree of hungover. 
But it could be worse, you supposed. The stranger’s bed was comfy and he had plenty of pillows for you to sleep on. His sheets were clean and he had not totally smothered you like a limpet all night, nor had he expected you to get up and leave while you were still catching your breath. He was a fairer bedmate than your daughter, and it was pleasant to wake up with the warm weight of his inked arm around you rather than a kid’s-size-twelve foot digging into your ribs, or her hair in your mouth. 
You sink into the comfort of it all, relishing that long-forgotten post-great-sex ache all over and the feeling of waking after a deep and dreamless sleep. You had not been this well-rested in almost seven years.
Next to you, he is asleep on his stomach with his arm across your middle. The room is dusky dark, but you can still make out the tattoos along his pale bare body and the glint of his nose ring, the spill of long dark hair piled up on his head. He is much softer now than when you met in the bar last night, no coy smirk or wolfish grin, no deep dimples on his cheeks. His whiskey eyes are still shut, and you feel warm all over when you remember how he had looked at you like you were the only woman in the bar, in the world, last night. How he had taken you home and taken you apart right here in his navy sheets. 
Carefully, trying not to wake the man next to you, you ease yourself up to check your phone.  It’s far too early to worry about picking Hazel up yet.
Not for the first time, you say a silent thanks to the universe for your neighbour for agreeing to babysit Hazel so that you could have a well-deserved Christmas night out with the friends you had made at work. You will bring her a nice hand-tied bouquet from the shop next week, just because. Without Claudia and her kindness to lean on, you know that going it alone in this small new town would so be much harder. It had been serendipitous really, moving in next door to an older and wiser woman who had been in the very same position as you when her son was not much older than Hazel. You begin piecing together the perfect bouquet for her, eucalyptus and rose and red ribbon, distracting yourself briefly from the dull ache in your head and the dry feeling on your tongue.
He brought you a glass of water before you fell asleep together. It’s cool in your throat, though it barely touches the sides of the discomfort pressing behind your brows. When the glass is mostly empty, you settle back next to him and let yourself doze for a little longer.
Eddie instinctively pulls you closer in his sleep, his warm morning breath tickling your shoulder and neck. You know it is just temporary, he is still a stranger, but let yourself enjoy the fleeting comfort while it lasts.
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“Morning.”
His voice is rough and smoky, and there’s a tired smile waiting for you when you open your eyes a while later. You are struck by how pretty he is, handsome and hot but pretty with it; long dark lashes and doe-eyes, cheekbones to die for.
“Hi,” you whisper back. You feel yourself smiling back at him, feeling dreamy and oh-so-comfortable. You stretch your body out, relishing the rush of blood and oxygen to your muscles and your eyes drop closed again at that so-good feeling.
“Sleeping Beauty.” 
When Eddie kisses your hair, you miss how he closes his eyes and savours the moment; you are too busy basking in the unexpected tenderness of this one-night stand, the easiness of waking up slow with a man you met less than twelve hours ago. Even if it is just for this morning, you soak it up. 
“Mhmm. You have a comfy bed,” you whisper, looking up at him again. 
You brush your fingertips along his silver chain before tracing up to his jaw, past the tendrils of hair escaping his scrunchie. You know the feeling of that dark grown-out and nicely-maintained stubble, how it brushed and burned so good on the inside of your thighs, how it feels against your lips. 
Tentatively, bravely, you press your mouth against his and feel his smile. It’s sweet, slow. Intimate and lovely.
“Yeah? M’glad you think so,” he murmurs and steals one more kiss before pulling you against his body. 
Last night as you basked in the afterglow, Eddie asked so quietly if he could hold you and you almost teared up about it. It had been a long time since anyone had held you like that, like he is holding you again this morning.  It has been a long time since anyone has been sweet to you, shared closeness and intimacy like this. Not since the man you loved upped and left, leaving you and one-year-old Hazel with only each other to love. 
You feel the strength of his arms and the softness of his belly. There’s a stirring, hardening interest against your thigh and yet he’s not being too forward or pushy. He’s just holding you, just ‘coz. 
“I don’t… S’a while since I had a sleepover,” he admits, running his blunt nails over the small of your back. “You didn’t hog the covers, and you didn’t sneak off without saying bye…”
Eddie pulls back a little, wearing that small flirty smile that made you swoon last night. His voice is so playful, even though it is deep with morning huskiness. 
“Still here,” you whisper back, “I… It’s been a while for me too. I don’t usually… Yeah.” You shrug, you know he gets it. 
There is a glint of something in his eyes before he looks up at the ceiling. “I’m glad we did. I had fun.” 
The dimple in his cheek is beautiful and bashful, and when he looks at you again his eyes go right to your lips.
“Me too.” You touch his chain again and tug gently to bring your lips together again, putting you both out of your misery.
No one has ever kissed you like Eddie did last night, with all-consuming lust that made you feel electric. He is a blend of rough and smooth, a firm guiding hand followed by a gentle caress. You have never felt so wanted, so craved.
The way he kisses you this morning pushes aside the thoughts of all you need to do today. All you know is want, the cloying feeling of wanting to touch and be touched, craving pleasure. With his hands to guide, you straddle his lap and lean into the feeling of his fingertips wandering past the hem of the t-shirt he loaned you last night. 
Eddie looks up at you like you’re some sort of deity, his eyes and lips shining as you peel off the t-shirt and throw it behind you, leaving yourself bare in his lap. He was not put off by the stretch marks, or the Mom Body you felt so self-conscious about sometimes. Nor was he put off by the fact that you are a Mom. Eddie had simply smiled when you briefly mentioned your daughter, told you he had his own little girl without giving too much away. With that fresh layer of yourselves on show, you could understand each other just a little bit more without going full gushing-parent mode, sharing pictures of your little angels or ranting about who loved Bluey and loathed Peppa more. 
His fingers run over the stretch marks on your hips, starting up a slow grind as he kisses your neck (remembering your ‘no marks’ rule). There is a slight chill in the air to remind you that beyond this liminal bliss, it is a frosty December morning, but Eddie warms you up and distracts you without second thought. 
In the gauzy light, you see touches of fatherhood around his room, easily missed in the passion of last night - a framed drawing on his bedside table, a kiddie hair clip in his ring dish. You smile to yourself and shiver when his warm breath skates over the damp trail of kisses.
“Pretty smile,” he murmurs, needing to taste and feel it again. 
Hands wander and squeeze and you get drunk on each other all over again in the cocoon of Eddie’s bed. You blindly follow his dark treasure trail before taking him in hand, hot and diamond-hard, and savour the taste and sound of his moan. Your aching need for him is tempered and satiated by his fingers and you flush hot all over when he encourages you to scoot up and let him taste you, almost begging for it. Dazed with want, you find yourself clinging to the headboard with white knuckles and his name spilling from your lips. 
Eddie could die a happy man with your thighs bracketing his head. The taste of you makes him feel drunk as you take your pleasure from him; the needy roll of your hips is encouraged by his greedy hands in contrast to how cautious and careful you had been not to trap and tug his hair beneath your knees. 
When you are sufficiently dumb with pleasure, he lays you back against the pillows and lays out his desire for you in between messy kisses, losing his train of thought when you get your hand back on him and whisper back your need for him to fuck you now. Eddie reaches blindly for the (blessedly still-in-date) box of foil-wrapped packets in his drawer, not wanting to look away from you for even a moment.
He holds your hand as he makes love to you and you have to remind yourself not to get too caught up in how sweet Eddie is, even when he his making you feel like you have never been so full; sweetness and filthy words wound together so sweetly. It’s overwhelming and he catches you fighting tears when you feel too good. 
“Hey,” he whispers, wearing too much worry between his brows. “Do you want to stop, sweetheart? Am I hurting you?”
A guy being decent should not make your heart swell like this, and yet it does. You shake your head, tears spill over and he brushes them away with care.
“No, no. You’re not hurting me,” you promise. “I feel really good. S’just a lot.” 
Your voice wobbles and he smiles fondly against your mouth, relieved and happy to be wanted in return. 
Eddie has this magnetism, warm and cloying and a little mysterious; it makes you feel comfortable even when he’s teasing you and making you flush hot all over. 
“Yeah, baby? That’s what I’m here for,” he whispers, and kisses you slowly, sweetly. “Let me make you feel good.” You feel like your heart could beat out of your chest. He can feel it hammering against him as he starts up a slow roll of his hips that fills you completely. 
Your fingers clutch at the sheets as Eddie fucks you into his mattress. Nothing else matters in those moments, only pleasure. You fight the urge to sink your teeth into the meat and muscle of his arm, lick the drip of sweat from his neck. Instead, you taste the way he moans your name and cling to him when you come just moments apart - you first, then him.
He shares his water with you afterwards when he sees your empty glass; you are both damp with sweat and lying side by side with your heartbeats pounding in your ears, the lingering taste of each other on your tongues.
When he kisses you again, his lips are water-cooled and tender.
“Can I make you some coffee? I have to pick up my little terror in a bit…” he says, already cringing at himself. “She’s great, I swear. I promised her diner pancakes for brunch.”
Reality trickles back in, a not-unpleasant cooling off of your morning together.
“Yeah, I should probably not show up in last night’s clothes to pick my kid up. Coffee sounds good.” 
There was always an expiry date on this; the boundaries of a one-night stand were set and familiar, despite how long it has been and despite how easy and intimate this morning has been. You’re both adults, both okay with it. 
“Cool.” He smiles and hauls himself out of bed, stepping into his lost and found again boxers before he doubles back to kiss your cheek. 
When your legs are steady enough he shows you how the shower works, leaving you to it with a new toothbrush, fresh towels and a familiar squeeze to your bare hip. There’s a little part of you that wants him to join you, waste hot water and let him press you against the cold tiles. Eddie wants that too, to delay your inevitable parting of ways and return to reality.
When you look in the mirror, you see a well-fucked woman; kiss-bitten lips and that long-lost post-sex glow. 
“What the fuck,” you murmur to yourself, giggling a little when you think over the last twelve hours. 
You had not gone out looking for a hookup last night, but you made the most of the festive excuse to go for drinks with the few friends you had made since moving to Hawkins six months ago. Catching Eddie’s eye at the bar had been a happy accident. A happy accident that lead to letting him buy you a drink, and then buying him one back. Your friends had wholeheartedly encouraged it, knew him to see around town and vouched for him as a mechanic. Good with his hands, they had teased. Oh, how right they had been.
The water is hot and Eddie’s shower gel is the typical ‘for men’ scented sort of thing. You feel fresh and clean when you step back into the bedroom, finding sweats and an Iron Maiden hoodie on the bed for you, alongside your clothes from last night (which Eddie has attempted to fold neatly, instead of leaving you to pick them up from the floor).
It should not make you smile so much, but your cheeks ache pleasantly as you dress yourself, opting for last night’s jeans with Eddie’s sweater. It’s washed-soft and smells like the detergent you have at home with a hint of his cologne.
You follow the scent of coffee and the sound of music downstairs, finding more traces of parenthood on your way - a purple fairy door on the baseboard,  a washing basket full of clean kids' clothes outside a closed bedroom door, light-up Skechers and silver glitter rain boots in the hall. There is something familiar about them, but brush it aside as something Hazel probably asked for in Target.
Eddie’s unbuttoned jeans hang low on his hips as he makes coffee in mismatched mugs, his hair is down tickling against his bare shoulders and back. There are drawings on the fridge and a Christmas tree peeking out from the living room. It feels like a happy home.
His eyes light up when he sees you, looking as hungry and enamoured by you in his hoodie as he had been when you were wearing nothing at all. 
“Do you take sugar, or are you sweet enough?” he asks, wearing a softer version of that panty-dropper smile from last night. He smells clean, minty and masculine, after a quick whore’s bath in the other bathroom.
“Just one,” you say, resting your hip against the kitchen island while you watch him fix up your coffee. “You’re smooth, huh?”
“You tell me.” He slides the mug across to you before blowing on his coffee, taking a still-too-hot sip that he tries and fails to cover. For a moment, you think he might be doing a bit, alas he is simply endearingly clumsy.
You feel bad laughing, but Eddie only pouts a little bit before grinning at you. There’s a faint blush on his cheeks and he ducks his head to hide behind his hair. 
“Real smooth.” 
Exercising patience, you decide to let your coffee cool a little.
“I’ll give you a ride home if you like?” he says, hoping it’s not too forward. 
He wants to be more forward, ask for your number and ask you out. He likes how his clothes fit your body, and how you looked blissed-out in his bed. While Eddie’s trying not to come off too strong, you appreciate his sweetness and fight your own internal battle of trying not to fall for your one-night stand.
“Yeah, that would be great. Thanks, Eddie. I’m over on Cornwallis, is that out of your way?”
He smiles a little, “I don’t mind a little detour, sweetheart.”
You pointedly blow on your coffee, learning from his mistake, and savour the made-just-right coffee in a Snoopy & Woodstock mug.
Over his shoulder, you spot a photo of a familiar man on the fridge, bookended by two heads of dark curly hair. There’s a handpainted fridge magnet with ‘Fae’ written in childishly charming pink writing, and you feel your cheeks flame.
He watches your face change, looks over his shoulder to see what you’re looking at. 
“Ah. That’s my Uncle Wayne, and Fae. My daughter. she’s six.” He unpins the picture and thumbs over it gently before turning it around to you.
You know exactly who they are, but take it anyway.
When you moved your life to Hawkins, Indiana six months ago, you would never have believed that you would make friends with a grandfather in his sixties outside of Curtain Call Dance Studio while you waited for Hazel. Making friends as a single Mom in a new town was not easy, you had little time outside of work and parenting for yourself, let alone socialising (and god forbid, dating). And then you parked next to Wayne one Thursday. He was a little quiet but had warmed up more each week; now he smiled when he saw you, asked how your job at the florists was and how Hazel was doing in school.
Even though they were in different First Grade class groups at Hawkins Elementary, Hazel and Fae had become almost inseparable in their dance classes and on the playground. 
You knew Fae’s dad worked late some evenings, so Wayne helped him out. Hazel had told you that she had seen Fae’s dad once when he picked her up early to go to the dentist, and that he had hair just like her friend.
“She looks just like me, it’s crazy - poor kid. I can’t believe she’s six. She’s supposed to be three, max. Y’know what I mean?” He says, showing you more of his proud Dad side before realising that your confusion is not because you’re looking at a picture of two clones. “You okay?”
“You’re Fae’s Dad? Fae Munson?” you ask, watching his shoulders tense a little as he nods. “Eddie. Our kids know each other. I’ve met Wayne.” 
He scowls slightly beneath his bangs, confused and a little worried that he hooked up with the mother of one of the kids who was mean to Fae in school, who told the teacher when she was ‘too chatty’ or when she stood up for herself.
The words spill from you untempered, unrestrained to clear it all up. “They’re at dance class together. They’re in the same grade. Hazel and Fae are friends, Eddie…”
He visibly softens, drops his shoulders, and even though he still looks confused he melts even more when an involuntary nervous laugh bubbles from your chest. 
“Seriously? No… You’re Hazel’s mom?” His eyes blow wide. “Fuck.” 
Eddie puts his head on the counter with a thunk, and you’re left with the photo of three smiling Munsons. Fae has her Dad’s eyes and hair, his impish mischief that had endeared you to the little girl. They really are alike.
“Wayne was right,” he says, muffled beneath his hair before peeking at you, “You are cute.” 
It makes you laugh more, though your cheeks feel like the surface of the sun.
“Wayne thinks I’m cute? Huh…”
“No. Nope,” he yelps, head flying up like a wild thing. “Oh my goddd.”
You feel a little spacey as the pieces fall into place. Wayne’s nephew Ed worked at Thatcher Tyre as a mechanic, and Fae had told Hazel her Dad looked like a rockstar. She wasn’t wrong…
“He was totally going to try and set us up or somethin’.”
“He did say I’d finally get to meet you at the Winter Performance…” you say, feeling fizzy-all-over as you come to terms with the shock of it all. “Guess we bet him to it.”
“Told me you were real sweet too.” Eddie smiles, his cheeks are pinker than ever.
Part of your brain berates you for hooking up with a stranger in a small town - a small town where everyone knows everyone else. But when Eddie reaches his hand out across the island and says, “Good to finally meet you, Hazel’s Mom,” with that flirty smile and his whiskey eyes, it melts away and you’re not really that sorry at all.
You take his hand, mug-warmed and adorned with silver rings. 
“Nice to meet you at last, Fae’s Dad.”
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Neither of you is too embarrassed by the revelation, though you both circle back to how fucking crazy it is at least twice. Even though you still feel gooey-warm under his attention, you don’t want anything to get in the way of your daughter’s friendship, of your new start in Hawkins, and feel selfish for wanting more than the taste you have already had of Eddie Munson. You both know your time together is drawing to an end, the bubble is about to burst, and a little part of you wishes that the illusion of being strangers could have lasted a little longer. 
With your coffee consumed and your coats and boots on, Eddie takes your hand and pulls you against his body before you step outside of the door together. 
“Hey, gorgeous. One more kiss?” he asks, head tilted to the side. 
You don’t need to think about it, and take his stubbled jaw with both hands as he holds your hips. Kissing him makes all the tension roll away once more, and you hope it is enough to help him remember you as more than just some other Mom in the First Grade Parents Group Chat (which you both have muted). You have to savour it, remember his taste and touch.
Eddie is not shy about kissing you, he slides his tongue against yours and moans ever so quietly when you push your chest against his. He is also the one to slow it down, makes it sweet and tender and you would dare say romantic, even with his hands on your ass. 
“Can I ask for one more thing?” he whispers, nudging his nose against yours. 
Right now, you would consider giving him a kidney or a blow job if he asked nicely. 
“Mhm,” you whisper, giving nothing away just yet. 
“Can I get your number? I wanna take you out properly,” he says, his thumbs play with the belt loop at the back of your jeans. “Like a date.”
Feeling hot all over, you try to play it cool and not nod so eagerly lest you headbutt him and leave him bloody-nosed. 
“Yeah. That would be nice, Eddie.” 
He watches how your teeth sink into your lip and has to kiss you once more, just because. You take his phone and add your number and name, adding a little sparkle emoji before deleting it. Then you add it again and hand it back before you can change your mind.
“Cool. And, um maybe the girls could have a play date sometime? I was gonna ask for your number anyway, so y’know. Two birds, one stone and all that. Silver linings?” Eddie does a jazz-hand-flourish thing before he shakes his head at himself and tucks his phone away. “I had a good time with you. A great time. And I know what you might be thinking, I don’t want this to get between the girls either. But I’d love to see you again.”
You are even more endeared by these glimpses of how sensible he is as well as his goofy awkwardness beneath the leather jacket and bad boy stare.
He is as gentlemanly as he had been last night, opening doors for you, though he is less handsy in the bright morning light (he does give your knee a squeeze at the stoplight). You feel safe with him as he navigates the frosty roads of Hawkins, talking about music, what concerts you had been to before becoming parents, and where to get the sparkly tutus for the Winter Performance. 
All too soon he pulls up outside your house, spotting the red door with the handmade wreath that you had described.
“Next to Henderson’s?” he asks, brow raised.
“Yep. Do you know Claudia, or is this town just too small?”
He laughs, tilts his head against the headrest. “It’s way too small. Her son, Dustin? One of my best friends.” 
You tip your head forward, smiling even as your head shakes. “I’ve heard so much about Dustin. We’re having Christmas dinner with them.”
Eddie's dimpled cheeks crease even more. “Damn. Well, I can’t wait to hear why you picked Hawkins of all places to move to. You can tell me on our date.”
Proud of how that flusters you, he presses a kiss to your hand and winks, “I’ll text you later, sweetheart.”
You want to kiss him again, but you manage to restrain yourself, remembering the nosy neighbours on Cornwallis. Instead, you let the flickering fire inside you flirt back, hoping to fluster him too.
You place your hand high on his thigh and squeeze. “You better, Eddie. Drive safe.”
You can feel him checking you out all over again, the weight and warmth of his gaze, as you make your way up the path to your door. Once your key is in the lock, you part ways with a wave and a wink, lingering just a moment more to watch his car peel away from the curb. 
Left with a fluttering feeling in your tummy and warm cheeks that ache from smiling, you take a moment for yourself in your hallway. 
It is time to go back to being Hazel’s mom. You can’t wait to hear about her sleepover with Ms. Claudia and the cats, bask in her brilliance and take every hug and smooch she will offer you (or let you take for yourself). Inspired by Eddie and Fae’s breakfast date, you think of taking your girl to the diner for dinner later on, maybe watching a Christmas movie before bed. 
In the mirror above your sideboard, hanging above the key dish and the thrifted lamp and a photo of you and Hazel in matching sunglasses, you catch sight of your smiling reflection once more, enveloped in a dreamy daze and borrowed hoodie. Your phone buzzes in your pocket and your smile becomes bigger, brighter, brimming with hope. 
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What did you think? Do we want more of these two? 👀 Thank you so very very much for reading! Your comments, reblogs and likes are incredibly appreciated and adored!
Whether you're celebrating or not, I am wishing you the cosiest and most wonderful holiday season filled with peace and love and every good thing you deserve ✨
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eddieslooneymoonie · 2 days ago
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AHHHHHHHHAHHHHHHH PLEASEEEE PLEASE PLEASEEEEE I NEED HIM
If you write more please tag me ill die xoxoxo
The Ink Shop Part 2
Description: After your encounter with Eddie, things are beginning to get a bit more complicated; especially when you ask him for another little favour. But, will Eddie go for it? 
Warnings: NSFW, minors DNI this ain't for you, angst, tiny bit of fluff, smut, fem oral receiving, male masturbation.
A/N: OK when I said this will be in 3 parts I lied, it's totally going to be at least 4, maybe 5! Thank you for the love you've shown the first part, it's incredible! You're superstars. 
❤️ If you like it please comment and reblog, it really makes my day!❤️
7k words 
Masterlist Part 1
For some reason, the shop seems more welcoming today than ever. It might be the fact that the sun is shining, it might be the radio seemingly playing all your favourite songs, or it might be last night. Either way, you feel loose and free, laughing at jokes, smiling at everyone, and genuinely just happier. 
Eddie saunters in thirty minutes late and you barely notice, apart from flashing him a bashful smile. 
“Well hello there sweetheart, you seem chipper today.”
You roll your eyes at the obvious insinuation, but your smile is warm. “I had a good night's sleep, that's all.” 
“Bet you did,” he grins, “you look real pretty.” 
Looking down, you consider your outfit; you'd decided enough of the corporate clothes, this is a tattoo shop after all. So, you'd paired a roll neck sweater with a short jean skirt and sneakers. A more relaxed outfit to go with a more relaxed attitude. Before you can say anything in reply he strolls over to his station. 
Right, so a few jabs, but he's being nonchalant. So put it out of your mind.
The morning moves quickly, a messy blur of clients and phone calls. After a fast lunch, the shop finally calms down a little. When you're focusing on sorting the mess of the heavy bookings tome in front of you, Eddie approaches, mischief glinting in his eyes. 
“I see London, I see France…” 
You follow his bowed head and cross your legs in sheer embarrassment, realising a sliver of your panties must be on display. 
“Eddie!” 
He simply laughs, throwing his head back far enough that your gaze drifts to his Adam's apple. 
“Sorry, I couldn't resist, I'm a big fan of this skirt,” he says, drinking you in with his eyes, “anyway I wanted to ask-” 
His sentence is stopped however by the loud ringing of the old corded phone. You and Eddie share a look, yours begging and his smug. Before you can grab it, he picks up the phone, putting on a ridiculous British accent. 
“Good Afternoon, London Underground Airways, this is your captain speaking- Oh shit Mac- Yeah she's- I know I'm not supposed to answer- Sorry I- Fine, here.” He brandishes the phone at you. 
“Hello? Oh, of course I'll let them know- I understand- It'd be my pleasure- see you soon.” replacing the receiver, you make a note on the pad at your side. 
“What'd he say?” Eddie asks, hovering over you. 
Not giving him the satisfaction of a look, you continue to make your note, however perfunctory it may be. “Mac's going to be a little late, he told me to tell his next client.” 
“He said my name, I heard it. What'd he say?” 
Placing your pen down with a loud click, you turn to him. 
You tell him as you smile smugly. “He told me to hit you for answering the phone.”
If anything, his grin grows broader. “Oh? Go on then princess, I'd hate for you to break the rules.” He turns his face, no doubt expecting a cuff to the back of the head.
Spinning on your stool, you slap him right across the cheek; not with all your strength, but certainly hard enough to remember. Eddie's face is a picture of shock, pink handprint already flushing his cheek. 
But that just makes his smile wider. 
“Harder.” He asks, eyes flashing arousal at you. 
“Eddie!” you shout, pushing him away, but his laugh echoes through the shop. Before he has a chance to continue, a burly biker type walks right in the door. 
“Good afternoon, can I help you?” 
“Yeah, It's Jimmy, I'm here for Mac?” 
“He's running a little late, but he'll be with you as soon as possible. Can I get you a coffee or something while you wait?” 
You can't help but hear a huff from Eddie, but before you can question it he's drawing in his book, entirely oblivious to the outside world. 
At the end of the day, you're tired, but still in fairly high spirits. It's the first time you've seen everyone in the shop at once. There's an edge to the air though, as if an expectation hangs over everyone. 
So… bar?” Mac asks in a defeated tone, although he's smiling. Everyone reacts; Eddie woops, pumping his fist, even the usually reserved Miranda is clapping quietly. You smile and nod, finally understanding what the atmosphere was about. 
As you all enter the dimly lit bar, chatting and laughing, you hear a low huff. 
“What did I do to deserve this?” John is standing behind the bar. An imposing figure, his arms crossed and face surly, but there's a kindness in his eyes. Mac leans straight over and hands him a card.  
“Easy John, I got this,” he chuckles. The card is accepted gratefully, the gruff demeanour lessening with the promise of payment. 
You accept a bottle of beer and slide into a nearby booth, the rest of the group filtering in. Mac walks over, eyes the space next to you, then grabs a stool to sit at the head of the table. It throws you for a minute; surely he knows he can sit there? Before you can tell him so, Eddie waltzes across the room with a tray of tequila shots and all the fixings with a cheeky look in his eyes. He slides right in next to you, tray and all, and places it on the table with exaggerated care. 
“Ladies, gentlemen.” He says, gesturing to the tiny glasses like an old timey butler. There's a succession of groans from the party, but despite this they all grab a shot. All except you. 
“I don't think I-” you begin, but he's waving a hand in the air. 
“Come on, you drink. It's a shot. Never had tequila before?” 
Fixing him with a sharp look, your cheeks begin to redden of their own accord. Eddie smirks and tosses his head back, hiding his eyes with one hand. 
“Shit princess, what did you do at college?” 
“Study.” You say primly, but take a glass tentatively and place it in front of you. 
“Right, so for the new guys…“ Eddie smiles right at you and licks his hand between his thumb and pointer finger. That hint of silver mesmerises you, the ball of his tongue piercing catching the light. It's almost sensual the way he does it, your eyes automatically following the movement of his tongue. “salt right here…” he sprinkles some on the spot he moistened, “then, lick, shoot, suck.” 
In a few fluid movements he licks the salt from his hand, downs the shot, and sticks a wedge of lime in his mouth. As your brain finally engages after that display, the little show that shouldn't have heated your insides up, you follow along, and take your shot with everyone else. It's easier than you would have thought, the lime easing the burn somewhat. 
Eddie squeezes your thigh under the table and whispers low enough for you to hear. 
“Good girl.” 
Shooting daggers with a simple look, he just smirks, leaving his hand on your bare leg as if challenging you. Dimly, you hear the echoes of a conversation in front of you; it's Julio, arguing about good tequila not needing salt and lime, but you're lost in the deep pools of Eddie's chocolate eyes.
For a moment, your body flashes red hot and you regret your choice of the high necked sweater. Tearing your eyes away you look at something, anything, but Eddie. 
The conversation drifts between all manner of subjects and you start to relax, the beer and tequila swimming in your belly loosening your tongue. It's nice, having a chance to chat and giggle with your coworkers in a setting not interrupted by the constant buzzing of tattoo machines. 
Julio and Chloe end up in a full scale argument about the karaoke machine in the corner. Before you're subjected to the horror of having to sing in public, you get up to grab another beer. Perching on a stool by the bar with your purse in hand, you're waiting patiently to be served. 
Eddie strolls over. You see him in your periphery; that confident walk as if he owns the very ground he walks on. Casually he hops up on the stool next to you, making no effort to hide the way he undresses you with his eyes. 
“Quit staring Eddie,” you say testily as you knock the bar with your bank card. 
“Now I can't look at you?” He asks with an amused grin. 
“I said quit staring, not quit looking,” you huff out. 
“What's the difference?” He asks, shrugging his shoulders and scrunching his nose at you.
You groan, turning on your stool to face him. “You are impossible,” 
He sticks his long tongue out childishly, flashing his piercing at you. 
Thankfully, John's voice cuts through the squabble. “What can I get you?”
“May I have a beer, please?” 
“You certainly may.” John cocks his thumb in your direction, addressing Eddie, “I like this one, she's polite. Don't scare her off.” 
Eddie dramatically holds his chest. “You wound me, sir!” 
Two beers are placed on the bar and John waves your card away. “Don't worry about it, Mac's treating you guys tonight.” 
As you swig your beer, you contemplate for a moment, trying to work out something.
“You're staring, sweetheart.” Eddie grins, as he gulps his drink. 
“I wasn't staring, I was thinking! I know that's a foreign concept to you.” It's catty, you know that, but he just seems to bring it out in you. No one else has annoyed you so much in your life just by… being. 
“That was rude. I thought we were playing nice?” he pouts playfully. 
“Sorry. I- Can I ask you something?” 
“Sure, shoot.” 
Turning to him, you speak what's on your mind. “Why do people get their tongues pierced? No one really sees it. I get like, nose and eyebrow piercings and stuff, but the tongue one I don't understand.” 
Eddie's grin is wide as he bites his bottom lip and stares at you. Well, you couldn't call it a grin. It's a flash of teeth, almost wolfish in its delivery. 
“Oh princess, you are too cute.” 
Staring at him with your brow furrowed, you try to work out what he means, but the longer you take, the more amused he looks. 
“What? What is it?” 
Sighing, he leans closer, the scent of aftershave, cigarettes and man clouding around you. “It's got a purpose, sweetheart.” 
“What, like, kissing?” 
Shaking his head, he looks you up and down. “Kinda. Kissing somewhere… specific.” 
Realisation breaks across your face, followed by a fierce blush that you can feel to the roots of your hair. Laughing, Eddie pulls away a little and takes a mouthful of beer. 
Voice an airy whisper, you lean over to him as you speak. “And girls like that?” 
His laugh is so loud it reverberates around the bar. 
“Yeah, a lot, in my experience.” 
“Oh.”
Well, the thought is there now, and you're pretty sure it won't ever go away, not without some sort of mind bleach. Eddie's head between your legs, his long tongue exploring your sex. The image is burned into the back of your brain, playing on a loop.
“You're looking a little hot there,” he says, as if he can read your thoughts. It's fair to say it wouldn't take a psychic to know what's rattling around your head right now. 
“I'm fine, this sweater is too warm,” you shake out, pressing your thighs together. 
“Liar.” 
Mouth opening and closing like a fish, you finally snap it shut with a crunch. Curiosity is eating away at you, and it's too easy to say what's on your mind after a couple of drinks. 
“Eddie, could you… tell me, what- what it's like?” 
He chuckles lightly and scoots closer to you. “you know I can't, I've not exactly had the pleasure.” 
“I know that, I mean…” 
For a second he just gapes at you. 
“Wait, princess, are you asking me to tell you or… show you?” 
Flustered, you turn away a little. “Sorry that's- that's too much isn't it. It's just you… did such a good job with the, you know, the other thing, I was just curious.” 
Eddie bites his lip, puffing out a little breath. “You know, flattery works with me. I did a good job, huh?” 
“Well, yeah. I can imagine you'd be really good at… that too. I could, owe you a favour?” It's bold, especially from you, but the way he's looking at you, the slight flush to his cheeks, you'd put money on him agreeing. 
Eddie stares at you incredulously. “Wait, you're saying you want me to stick my tongue in the holiest of holes and then you owe me a favour?” 
“Yeah? Like a little… arrangement.” 
He rubs his face with his hand, his voice muffled as he speaks. “I'd feel like I was taking advantage of you.” 
That confuses you for a moment. Surely you were the one who asked him? Hesitantly you reach out and touch soft fingertips to the back of his hand. 
“Please?” 
“Fuck.” He looks around, and turns to you, gazing into your eyes for a moment. 
“Fine. Right now.” 
“Oh I didn't-” 
“Listen, before I change my mind. Meet me out back. I'll tell the guys you're not feeling well and I'm taking you home.” 
Wordlessly, you grab your purse and head to the back door, heart hammering in your ears. It's a little dank out here, with the sound of a dripping pipe and moss covering the cement. Eddie comes out a moment later looking more serious than you've ever seen him. 
“You sure about this?” He asks, searching your eyes. 
‘Yeah, but…” you look around the small yard, gesturing vaguely. 
“Oh. Oh! You thought- oh Christ no, not here. I'm not a complete asshole. Come with me.”
Letting out a relieved breath, you follow him. He walks over to a gate in the fence and opens it, which leads down a narrow alleyway, a little shortcut between yards. That eventually opens up to another road with a couple of apartment blocks. The one he moves towards looks mostly clean, if a bit lifeless, with a creepy looking van parked out the front.
“This way sweetheart,” he says, leading you through the courtyard and to the stairs. 
For a second you stop in sheer surprise. 
“Wait, you live this close and you still manage to be late for work?” 
He chuckles, looking at you over his shoulder. “I have a condition, you know. Chronic tardiness; I'm afraid there's no cure.” 
You bat him on the arm playfully and he grasps your wrist, stopping on the stairs briefly, giving you a look that is wickedness personified. 
“If you're gonna hit me, do it properly.” 
“Eddie!” 
He laughs loud and grabs your hand, holding it in his until he reaches his door. That alone is enough to shut you up. It's warm and rough, and the feeling of his skin on yours, no matter how tiny, sends bolts of sensation through you. 
“Right, here is my castle,” he says as he opens the door and lets you inside. 
Chaos. That's the first word that crosses your mind. It doesn't look dirty, there's just things everywhere. A bookshelf stuffed with books and weird little trinkets placed any which way dominates one wall, and another on the other side with a huge music collection. There's a poky little kitchen with a couple of pots still in the sink, and a big couch with mismatched cushions takes up the remaining space. A tower of board games is precariously leaning next to it, and on the wall over the TV is an honest to goodness sword.
“It's nice,” you say as you walk in, as if you're not mentally organising it in your head. 
“You hate it.” He scoffs, pulling his boots off and dumping them by the door. 
“No, no, it's very… you.” 
“I stand by my previous statement.” He grins at you, clearly indicating he wasn't being entirely serious. 
“This is the bedroom.” He walks over and nudges the door open with his foot. Surprisingly, apart from an open clothes rail, an overflowing laundry hamper, and an enormous bed, there's not much in it. The wallpaper is a pretty purple colour, and looks oddly familiar. 
“Eddie isn't that the same wallpaper-” 
“-As the shop? Yeah. Mac let me have the leftovers. I was broke and this room was fucking pink.” 
You snort out a laugh; the thought of Eddie with a pretty pink bedroom was rather unbelievable.
“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. I can live with purple.” He roots around and grabs a pair of sweats. “Make yourself comfortable, I'm gonna change real quick.” 
Then he walks out into another doorway, you assume the bathroom. The urge to snoop is real, but you resist. It looks like he spends less time here anyway. 
The question is, how comfortable are you supposed to make yourself? Nerves start settling in, the thought of what you've asked him to do is finally sinking its way into your mind and down your jangling spine. What if he doesn't like the underwear you're wearing? God, you've been at work all day, what if you smell bad? Or taste bad? What if- 
“You can sit down, princess.” 
Eddie saunters back in, shirtless, a pair of grey sweatpants hanging so low on his hips you see his cut groin. A little squeak hiccups out of your throat at the sight. You stay standing, ready to make your excuses and leave, but the signal hasn't reached your legs just yet. 
“What's wrong?” his eyes are brimming with concern as he steps toward you. 
“No I- I was- maybe this-” 
“Hey, look at me,” he says, grabbing both of your hands. You stare up at him, his face gentle. 
“Whatever you're worried about, I'm sure it's nothing.” 
“But i haven't showered-” 
“When did you last?” 
“Well… this morning.” 
“You're fine. Trust me.” 
He backs you up onto the bed, your knees folding as you flop down. The air around you feels full, humid with anticipation. He's so close, your bodies almost pressed together. 
“I wanna kiss you.” He says softly, stroking a lock of your hair out of your face. Heart leaping into your throat, you try to suppress the urge to lean forward. The last thing you need is to fall for this man. Chloe's words echo in your head; he's not boyfriend material.
He'll break your heart. 
“That's not part of our deal, Eddie.” 
A frown flickers across his face. It's just for a second, a flash of vulnerability, before his usual cocky smile returns. 
“That's not where I wanna kiss you.” He winks and tugs at your top, “can I take this off?” 
Nodding wordlessly, you help him and wriggle it up and over your head. 
“God damn.” Eddie props up on an elbow, running a finger between your breasts, before following the edge of your black cotton bra. 
He looks up at your face, grinning wide, and points at your neck; little purple marks adorn it. “That why you wore that sweater today?” 
Flushing crimson, you run fingers across your neck. 
“Yeah, you marked me Eddie. Not exactly discreet.” 
He chuckles, stroking the side of your neck. “Sorry sweetheart, I won't do it again. Well, not anywhere that anyone can see.” 
Heat floods your stomach, the stark realisation that you want him to mark you clings to your insides. If he notices your reaction he doesn't say, instead he leans toward you pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek. 
“You're really pretty. I don't know if I said that before.” 
Awash with a new heat in your cheeks, you smile bashfully. “Thanks, I don't get told that very much.” 
Staring at you, he shakes his head.
“You should. You should be told every fucking day.” 
You open your mouth, but before you can reply he kisses your jaw, running his tongue down your neck, before he presses his mouth to the top of your breast, sucking roughly. A gasp flies out, and your hand makes a decision entirely on its own to grab his hair. 
It seems it was the right thing to do, judging by the deep groan that comes from him. It seems to spur him on, and he yanks the cup of your bra down, taking your nipple into his mouth. His tongue teases it, rubbing his piercing over the pebbled nub.
“Oh Holy fuck!” Back arching with the foreign sensation, you revel in it, wriggling underneath him. He smirks against your skin, and takes your nipple between his teeth. Moaning loudly, you pull his hair. 
“Fuck, sweetheart,” He looks up at you, pupils blown to black, “can’t hold back if you do that.” 
It's not a dare, but it tastes like one, and before you can think you're tugging at it again. Eddie's eyes roll back, and a hard look crosses underneath his eyes. 
His actions turn a little feral, pulling you up so he can unhook your bra, practically ripping it off you before his mouth is all over your chest, firm fingers digging into the flesh of your hip. 
“Fuck, Eddie” you stutter it out, voice laced with need. 
“Yeah?” He whispers out breathlessly between urgent kisses, making his way down your stomach. Suddenly he takes the flesh of your hip in his mouth and bites down little before sucking a bruise as you writhe under him. 
He reaches your skirt, hooking fingers into the waistband as he looks up at you, his tone urgent. “Can I?” 
As you nod frantically, he reacts immediately, yanking it down along with your underwear. 
“Fuck, look at you.” 
The urge to close your legs is real, embarrassed at the way he's ogling you right between your thighs. They quiver with tension, but Eddie forces them open with his large palms. 
“Don't hide from me. You still want this?” 
You nod, and his head snaps up to look at you. His voice is hard, swirling around your insides with an intensity you're not used to from him. 
“Say it. You need to say it.” 
‘Yes, please Eddie.” 
That satisfies him. He leans forward, breath ghosting over your clit. You're waiting for his mouth, his tongue, but that's not what happens. He inhales you, nose so close it's almost touching your sex. 
“Jesus Christ, you smell so fucking good.” 
“Eddie!” you cry it out, cringing at his words as you bury your face in your hands. 
“Relax princess, it's a compliment.” 
Before you can retort that it's not a compliment, it's weird, and he's a freak for saying it, it no longer matters. He's licking a fat stripe up the length of your pussy, long tongue pushing against you hard in an animal-like gesture. 
The noise that expels from your chest is inhuman, a choked, guttural breath that belongs in a cave somewhere, not a bedroom. 
He doesn't relent, his mouth exploring every inch of you with a ferality that has you tingling all the way to your toes. His fierce movements, accentuated by the bump of his piercing, have you nearly leaving the mattress. You're not sure if you're trying to get more, or move away. Not that it matters. His hands are holding you so firmly that all you can do is wriggle helplessly like a fish on a line. 
Fingers trace the outside of your entrance before they slide in, beckoning your release. Whimpering, you grasp the bedsheets in a need to keep contact with something real. 
“Talk to me,” he says between mind numbing messy kisses to your clit, “good, yeah?” 
“Eddie, f-fuck, its incredible, please, oh God, k-keep going!” 
You can practically feel the smirk on his face as he dives back in, suckling at your clit with an unmatched fervour, his tongue piercing flicking expertly as he does so. Suddenly, you're not creeping toward your release, you're being hurtled toward it, thrown into the depths of absolute pleasure. 
Hands finding their way into Eddie's hair again, you hold on tight, buckling up for the ride. It's almost violent the way he pulls your climax from you, and you scream loudly, almost folding in half before you fall back onto the bed. 
Eddie sits up, hands placed on your thighs, as he grins proudly, face shining with your slick. 
“You OK princess?” 
OK doesn't seem to cover it. You're panting wildly, each breath shallow and ragged, brain melted into soup. 
“Think you can go again?” 
That gets your attention. You sit up, gaping at him. “Again?” 
Chuckling, he runs a finger up your slit and circles your clit in a teasing manner. The slight touch has your thighs trembling. 
“I think you've got at least one more in you.” 
Without a further word he presses his tongue against you. On instinct you grip his hair once more, bucking your hips up. 
“Fuck, that's it sweetheart, ride my face.” 
This time he slips his tongue inside as his nose nudges at your clit, the thick muscle curling and writhing. Holding on tight, your hips know what to do, your body reacting and rolling to meet him. 
You're yanking his hair hard as you grind against his face, pulling deep grunts and moans from him which vibrate inside of you. It feels primal, sheer need clouding your mind, a fog that rolls into every limb and leaves no part untouched. 
“Eddie, fuck!” You moan loudly as your walls clench around his tongue, another climax bubbling its way to the surface. He doubles down with his efforts almost as if he needs this as much as you do. 
With one final thrust of his tongue you whine out your orgasm, back finally touching the bed once more. There are no thoughts, only your heavy breath and beating heart keeping you in the moment. 
After a few seconds that seem to stretch on for a year, he hovers over your face. He's wiped off your release, but nothing could wipe that smug grin. 
“So? Good?” 
It's not like he doesn't know. You pat blindly at his arm, words stuck in a puddle on your tongue. In an unexpected tender gesture, he swipes his thumb over your chin, his gaze pensive. You stare back, fingers reaching out to gently touch his cheek. 
“Are you going to kiss me?” You whisper, the words pooling from you unbidden. 
For a split second you think he's going to lean in and close the gap, but he flashes his teeth at you and flicks the tip of your nose. 
“That's not part of the deal.” 
Disappointment leaks into your stomach. Which is entirely unfair. He's using your words after all. Fighting the feeling, you force a smile. 
“I think I'll need a wheelchair to get home.” You chuckle, indicating to your still twitching legs. 
“Stay here. I'll take the couch.” 
“Oh, no, Eddie, I couldn't kick you out of your own bed thats-” 
“Hey, it's fine, honestly. I wouldn't offer if I didn't mean it.” He shrugs and rolls off the bed and onto his feet in one quick movement like a cat. “Here. If you want something to sleep in.” He hands you a faded t-shirt. Hesitating for a moment, your hand hovers over it, but he stuffs it into your grip. 
“Honestly, it's fine. I can drop you home before work so you can get changed and stuff. No big deal.” 
“What about your chronic tardiness?” You joke, smiling softly at him. 
“You're here, I'm sure you'll whip me into shape.” 
“You'd probably like that,” you tease. 
“More than you know.” He winks again, and walks to the doorway. “Night, princess.” 
“Night Eddie.” 
When he's gone you shrug the shirt on. It's clean, but there's an undercurrent of pure Eddie still there that's more comforting than you'll care to admit. Then, you lay there, staring at the ceiling. 
Well. You certainly weren't expecting to end up in Eddie's room, in his bed, but here you are. You're not sure what this all means just yet and processing it is just hurting your brain. A part of you is saying that you should get out now whilst you can. Another, louder part is telling you this is where you should be. The only problem: is this message coming from your heart, or much lower down? 
Chloe drifts into your mind whilst you lay there. Did they hook up in this bed? Are you in the same place she was? And how did that end? Clearly it was on good terms, considering how friendly they are, but how many girls have been where you are right now? A few? A dozen? A hundred?
After a while your thoughts just start to ache, leaving a migraine behind your eyes. Shifting on the bed, you try to get comfortable, but it's no use. You wonder if Eddie is still awake. After all, he's the only one that can answer your questions. 
Sitting up a little, you listen intently for any signs of life from the next room, but no matter how hard you strain your ears, you can't hear anything. 
As you quietly get up and creep to the door, you press your ear to it. Maybe that was a word you heard, a loud breath, or the signs of an overactive imagination. Turning the doorknob like a safecracker, you inch the door open ever so slightly to peek beyond. 
There he is, laying on the couch, eyes tight shut and face contorted in concentration. Odd. You slowly guide the door open a little more and your eyes nearly bug out of your head. 
Eddie's laying there, hand down his sweats, tugging at himself like there's no tomorrow.
You almost cry out in shock but manage to swallow the noise just in time. For what feels like a full minute you stand and stare, mouth gaping open. It's like you're hypnotised, unable to tear away from his urgent movements. 
A particularly good stroke has him bucking into his hand, and he lets out this strained whimper that shoots directly between your legs. 
Right, stop. This is wrong. How would you feel if he caught you? …OK, bad example. 
Reluctantly, you close the door again as quietly as you can before climbing back into his bed to stare at the ceiling once more. 
It looks like it's going to be a long night. 
********************
“You look really great,” Chloe says as she strolls into the shop, handing you a coffee, “like, happier, more relaxed.” 
It's a few days after your impromptu sleepover at Eddie's place, and she's absolutely right. You do look more relaxed, even you've noticed the change. There's more confidence in you, and a smile that was once a little forced is warm and genuine. 
“Thanks, I think I'm getting more comfortable here.” It's not a lie, exactly, but it's certainly not the whole truth. 
“Good, glad to hear it!” She beams at you and heads to her table. 
The bell over the door chimes once again startling you. Miranda and Mac are already here and it couldn't possibly be Eddie this early. 
“Um… Hi.” A gangly youth walks in, all arms and legs and bright blonde hair. He shuffles over to the counter awkwardly. 
“Morning, can I help you?” 
“Y-yeah, you do walk-ins today, right?” He asks, brandishing a crumpled flyer at you. 
Face lighting up, you fix your best smile. 
“Why yes we do, it's walk-in Wednesday. It's a little early though. Can I see some ID? 
He hands it over. The guy's freshly 21 and knows it, puffing out his little pigeon chest with pride. 
“Excellent. It's about 10 minutes until we open, but Miranda will be with you. Miranda, you got a book for this guy?” 
Confusion paints Mirandas's face, but then she smiles. 
“A walk in? Wow.” She strolls over and hands him her portfolio of designs, introducing herself. 
When Eddie finally turns up, there's another guy waiting. 
“You're not my 10:30.” 
The poor boy looks at him nervously like he did something wrong. 
“Eddie, he's a walk-in.” Mac says, calling over his shoulder. 
Eddie smirks at you and leans over the counter. 
“Well well, bet you're happy. Atta girl.” 
Blushing profusely, you move to tap him on the arm in warning, but he grabs your hand and kisses it. Heat flies straight to your belly at the gesture.
“Let me know when my 10:30 is here, alright sweetheart?” 
He's still holding your hand, brushing his fingers over your knuckles. Weakly you nod, gazing at him as your toes curl in your shoes. 
Shooting you a wink, he ambles over to his station as you watch him, eyes drawn to the way he moves. 
There's three more clients asking about Wednesdays; granted, one didn't have an ID, but the other two were seen and inked, and one even booked a follow up with Miranda. 
Buzzing with job satisfaction, you're grinning when you nip to the restroom, walking through the narrow corridor. As you exit, you're immediately accosted by Eddie. He stands close, a hand loosely holding your wrist to keep you there as he bends to whisper in your ear. 
“Now, you're not supposed to touch fine art, but someone's gotta pin you against the wall and nail you right.” 
“Eddie!” You whisper shout at him, only serving to make him chuckle low in his throat. 
“Sorry, couldn't resist. I have an idea, for that favour you owe me?” 
Body tensing of its own accord, you look up at him, your cheeks flushed and mouth slightly parted. Before you can ask what it is, a voice cuts through the tension. 
“Hey, keep it at home guys.” 
Mac's standing at the other end of the corridor with his arms crossed, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Pursing your lips, you wriggle from Eddie's grip. 
“It's not what it looks like Mac, I promise.” You say, shouldering past Eddie. 
“Come on sweetheart, don't get all shy on me now!” He shouts, walking after you.
You ignore him, giving Mac an apologetic look, and sit back down at the counter. God, that was embarrassing. Seems like professional and discreet are out the window. 
“So, as I was saying-” 
“Eddie, stop, not now.” you say, cheeks bright red. 
“I was only-” 
“Eddie please! I don't want to get into trouble!” 
Eddie scoffs and rolls his eyes, but backs off finally. 
You make a very clear point of being busy until the rest of the day, completing any ad hoc tasks you can think of. Tidying the stock cupboards, refreshing the consent sheets, and even organising the sparse counter. Anything to avoid further comment from Mac. 
When six rolls around you turn to talk to Eddie, but he's already leaving without a glance at you. 
Sighing, you make your way outside and home, trying to ignore the little sting in your chest. 
********************
It's Saturday before you see him again. Your day off was mostly spent worrying about how you upset him and thinking about everything you could have done differently. 
By the morning you're an emotional wreck, anxiety having done her job and left you a bubbling mass of maybes. When Eddie storms in the shop with a proverbial rain cloud over his head your heart pangs in your chest. 
He's such a big character, and you didn't realise until now the influence this has on this place. Usually he's energetic and upbeat; however, with this melancholy energy coming from him, everyone seems to stoop a little more, eyes a touch downcast, movements more shuffled and broken. It's like a black hole has descended on the shop, pulling joy from your soul and sucking everything into its gravity.
The tattoo shop is quiet for a Saturday. Not from lack of customers; it's just a more hushed and sullen atmosphere. By the afternoon you decide enough is enough and you grab Eddie's arm between clients.
“Eddie, can I talk to you?” 
He gets up, stretching his back in a feline movement, and walks with you slowly to the stockroom. 
“Listen, I'm really sorry about what happened on Wednesday, I didn't want to upset you and I can't stand seeing you like this and-” 
“Woah, sweetheart, slow down. You been worrying? About me?” He tilts his head, giving you a small lopsided smile. 
“Yeah? I thought you were mad at me.” You mumble out. 
“Oh, princess, come here.” He wraps you in his arms, holding your head close to his chest. A relieved breath puffs from your chest as you melt into the hug. 
“That's not what I'm upset about, I promise.” 
You pull from the embrace to look at him, a hopeful smile tugging at your lips. 
“Really?” 
Stroking your cheek softly, he presses his lips together. “You're adorable,” he moves his hand away and starts waving his arm about as he tells you what's wrong. 
“You know I'm in a band? Well we've got this regular gig at Hatters, which is great and all, but I found out they're looking for more bands at The Pit. That big rock club on Main? I've been trying to get hold of the damn owner but he's ignoring all my calls and I'm pissed off.” 
Grinning, you grab his arm. “Eddie, I can totally help you with that.” 
His gaze is soft and warm as he asks “Really? You'd do that for me?” 
“Of course I would. You got their number?” 
He digs around in his pocket and passes you a wedge of shiny paper. Unfolding it, you look at the details, smiling even wider when you see they're attempting a ladies night. There's a telephone number at the bottom, the contact listed as William. 
“I gotta idea. Just roll with it, OK?” 
He looks confused but nods at you. Skipping to the counter, you pick up the phone and dial the number. When it's answered by a young woman, you speak with a nasal voice, sounding almost bored. 
“Is Bill there?- Tell him it's Barb- oh trust me he's gonna wanna take this call honey.” 
Eddie's staring at you with an amused expression; you look back at him, flashing a smile while you wait. 
“Bill! How long has it been! Oh, don't say you don't remember me… oh, you do!- I'm good, I'm good- I'm managing this band, yeah, you've gotta book them- Corroded Coffin- yeah, yeah- They are hot right now, selling out their shows- look I know you're struggling getting the ladies in, but that's about to change. Their lead singer is-  well lemme tell you, if I were a younger woman- haha yes, sounds great! Next Saturday?- Nine- Great stuff- I'll speak to you soon.” 
Placing the phone down with a little click, you cross your legs and look at Eddie smugly. 
His jaw may as well be on the floor, eyebrows so high that he resembles a cartoon character. 
“Barb? Selling out their shows? If I were a younger woman? Where the fuck did that come from?” 
You giggle, “I thought he'd listen if he thought I was a business connection. I took a shot, a little bullshit can take you far.” 
He swoops over to you and grabs you in his arms, lifting you bodily from your seat and swinging you around as you squeal helplessly. 
“Saturday? Not even midweek? Princess I owe you big time.” 
“Eddie I already owe-” 
He's not listening, running over to Mac and bouncing on the spot like a child. “Mac, Mac, did you hear? I'm playing at The Pit!!” 
You watch as he explains what just happened; he's so animated, gesticulating wildly as loose locks of hair fly from his bun. Mac beams at him and hugs him in a fatherly motion before Eddie springs back over to you. 
“Who the fuck is Barb?”
“I dunno, she sounded worldly.” 
He grins, shaking his head, “I can't believe you lied for me. You seem… different lately. More confident. It suits you.” 
Blushing, you thank him. For a second you stare at each other, both lost in the other. 
Eddie shakes his head, and looks at the time. 
“Fuck, right, I got 20 minutes, I'll be back!” He grabs his coat and runs out of the shop shouting “personal errand!” 
Chuckling, you sit back down at the counter. Mac approaches, smiling softly. 
“You did good Miss, he's really happy.” 
“Thanks, I couldn't bear the sulking.” 
He laughs and touches your shoulder, “he cares about you. In case you didn't notice.” 
He walks away nonchalantly as if he didn't just drop a bomb at your feet. Eddie cares about you? You're still pondering it when he returns a half hour later looking sweaty and dishevelled. 
“Princess, I got you a present,” he whispers, brandishing a nondescript black bag at you. You peek inside and shut it immediately. 
“Eddie what the fuck!” You whisper, face flooding with blood at the sight as you hide it under the counter. There's a sex toy in the bag, well at least one, but you were so shocked at the sight you didn't get a good look. 
He chuckles and leans in close. “Thought you'd like it.” 
“Eddie I don't know how to- to use this stuff,” you mumble quietly, looking around to make sure no one's listening. 
He smirks at you in response.
“You free tonight? I can show you.” 
Taglist
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agreeeeeeeeeee · 20 hours ago
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Christmas Karaoke | E.M.
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feat. Eddie Munson x fem!reader
SUMMARY: You go out to Christmas karaoke with your friends Robin, Steve, Vickie, and Eddie and get a little wild, liquid courage and some classic carols giving you the push you need to claim your man.
CW: MDNI 18+, smut, eddies pov, drinking/getting drunk, protective!eddie, mentions of blood/fighting, eddie is the sweetest (and filthiest) man alive, oral (f&m), dirty talk
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Eddie flipped down the visor on the van, checking his hair and making sure he didn't have an spaghetti sauce on his chin from dinner at Wayne's. The van was idling outside your door, thick clouds of steam obscuring the outside world.
He was picking you up for Christmas Karaoke with Steve, Robin, and Vickie at the Hideout. It was a normal thing, he'd picked you up countless times for countless reasons, so why the fuck were his hands shaking on the steering wheel?
He clenched his hands, knuckles white and rings digging into his skin, and tried to take a deep breath. Things had started to change for him over the summer, after Eddie got into a fight with a handsy lifeguard at the pool.
He wasn't a violent man, truly. But when that fucker put his hands on your skin, sun kissed and dripping with chlorinated water, and your face screwed up with disgust and fear, he saw red.
It took an hour to clean the blood from his rings, and you'd been gracious enough to help him. Cramped into the trailer bathroom, scrubbing at his Cthulhu ring with some Palm Olive and an old toothbrush, your brow crinkled in concentration.
Now, he couldn't even wash the fucking dishes without thinking of you.
Every since that afternoon, he was a nervous wreck around you, clumsy and awkward, though you were too sweet to ever comment on it. You were oblivious to the change in him, at least as far as he knew.
He flipped up the visor and sagged into his seat, turning that Cthulhu ring on his middle finger. It was just karaoke, he could do this—
“Hey, Eds!” You chirped, tugging open the van door and climbing in.
His greeting died in his throat when he saw your outfit. Leather mini shirt and ripped tights, heavy boots, eyeliner…and what had to be the ugliest patchwork **Christmas sweater he'd ever seen.
But somehow, you made it look sexy as fuck.
“What? Too much?” You asked, pulling at the hem of your sweater with a smirk.
Eddie clapped a hand over his eyes, letting go of the wheel. “You're gonna have to drive, babe. My eyes have melted from the hideousness.”
You laughed, the sound like Christmas bells, and swatted his arm. “It's not that bad! Robin helped me!”
“It's grotesque.” He smiled, dropping his hands to start driving. “And I love it—”
“You do?” You beamed so brightly, he almost didn't finish his sentence.
“Sure! The way I love “Night of the Walking Dead”, or when Ozzy bit the head off that bat—”
“Ha ha, go fuck yourself.” You stuck your tongue out at him and he huffed a laugh.
“I'm teasing you,” he chuckled, adjusting the radio to your preferred station. “It's perfect. And only you could pull of that kind of monstrosity.”
You smiled, settling into your seat, and cranked up the music.
It took a concerted effort for Eddie to keep his eyes on the road. The color splashed against your skin was so pretty, and the soft smile on your face every time he passed a particularly elaborate house made his heart forget how to beat.
He wasn't a Christmas guy, being the town Satanist and his all together hatred of capitalist bullshit, but when he saw you smile like that, your eyes dancing like the twinkle bulbs, he thought maybe he could be.
“So, will we get a Corroded Coffin performance?” You asked, jarring him from his fantasies.
He snorted. “Unlikely.”
“I’m sorry, you, Eddie Munson, who sings more than he speaks, aren't going to participate in karaoke?”
“It's not like Judas Priest has a Christmas song,” he chuckled. “I don't have the range for Sinatra. Though I'm flattered you think so.”
“What if I pick it for you?” You asked, batting those doe eyes at him.
He sighed, thunking his head back against the headrest. “Stop lookin’ at me like that, it's not fair.”
“Like what?” You tilted your head, cherry glossed lips pursing slightly.
He wanted to sink his teeth into that pout, see a sticky ring of your lipgloss around his—
“Fine, fuck. One song.”
“Yay!” You leaned across the seat, planting a smacking kiss on his cheek, and he nearly swerved off the road in his shock. “You won't regret this.”
“I don't believe that for a second, sweetheart,” he said, praying you chalked his blush up to the multi-colored lights.
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“Oh god, not you too,” Steve said when you bound towards him through the crowd, Eddie on your heels.
“You love it, Harrington,” you teased, stealing the beer in his hand and taking a few, long gulps. Steve and Eddie’s eyes met over your head, both wide with surprise.
“Woah there!” Robin said, appearing to Steve’s left, dressed in an equally ugly sweater. “That kind of night?”
You set the now mostly empty beer on the counter. “Yep. What's a Mistletoe Mayhem?” You called out to Nick, the bartender.
Nothing good, Eddie thought.
“Green and sparkly,” the bartender replied.
“Perfect,” you grinned, slapping your ID on the counter.
“Make that two!” Robin chimed in, and Steve groaned.
“I want one!” Vickie emerged from the dance floor, also wearing a hideous sweater, though it was tied around her waist.
“Three Mayhem's coming up,” Nick chuckled, skimming ids before passing them back and moving down the bar.
“And can I get another beer? No? Alright,” Steve sighed, leaning back against the bar. “What's up, Munson?” He said, waving Eddie over.
Eddie tore his eyes away from where you were gushing with Vickie over the bars tiny Christmas tree and moved towards Steve.
“Oh, nothing. Kids have been asking me to put together a festive quest for our session tomorrow. Best I can do is Krampus.”
Steve chuckled, smiling when the pretty female bartender slid him and Eddie some beers. “Not into Christmas, huh?”
“Are you?”
“Nah, Mom was always the Hallmark family Christmas type, just felt so phony, y’know?”
“I do. Poor Harrington with his mountains of presents and immaculately decorated house,” Eddie teased, and Steve rolled his eyes.
“It wasn’t a mountain.”
“Oh, I apologize. A rather large hill of presents.”
“Three Mayhem's up!” Nick called, and the three of you bound out of the crowd like puppies called for dinner. Nick set down three fishbowls full of green, glittery liquid, topped with cranberries and limes, and a sprig of mistletoe.
Steve wrinkled his nose. “That looks dangerous.”
Eddie agreed, but held his tongue.
You took a big sip, needing two hands to hold the giant glass, and immediately pulled a face before unleashing a hundred kilowatt grin. “Very dangerous,” you hummed, taking another sip, and Eddie felt his cock twitch to life at the wicked gleam in your eye.
It was going to be a long night.
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Karaoke began half an hour later, with Steve and Robin kicking things off with a dramatized rendition of “Baby, It's Cold Outside.”
Eddie was following you around the bar like a shadow, scaring away anyone foolish enough to look at you twice. But you were none the wiser, already buzzed and dancing around like a Christmas elf on crack.
You were already one Mayhem deep, and he bribed Nick to tell you they were out of the mix to spare the consequences of a second. But you just ordered a double margarita instead, so his efforts, and $20, were forfeit.
But Eddie was more than happy to be your guard dog for the evening, so long as you were having fun and safe. It's what any good friend would do. But when he ran into Gareth and they started talking about the new Slayer album, he lost track of you.
“Shit,” he cursed under his breath, surveying the crowd for your sweater. But with the fog and throbbing multi-colored lights, it was impossible to see anything clearly. “Excuse me,” he said, interrupting Gareth in the middle of a sentence.
He bee-lined to the high top where your friends sat.
“There he iiissss!” Robin yelled, waving her beer glass in the air. “Where ya been Edward-ed-son?”
“Have you seen y/n?” He asked, mostly to Steve, who appeared to be the only other sober person on the entire establishment.
“Thought you had her.” Steve shrugged. “Got my hands full.” He nodded towards Robin and Vickie, who were now loudly singing along to the karaoke.
“I did, but then Gare—”
The crowd erupted in applause as the song ended, cutting Eddie off.
“That was greeeaaat, Tina. Now, let's welcome y/n singing a classic, ‘Santa Baby’!”
Eddie whirled around to the stage and your friends burst into cheers. You sauntered out in your little skirt and insane sweater, grinning ear to ear as the spotlight swung towards you.
“Found her,” Steve chuckled, pulling out the chair beside him for Eddie.
Eddie dropped into it, rolling his eyes and laughing. He should have known. “What's ‘Santa Baby'?” Eddie asked as the song started.
Steve gave him a sympathetic look and clapped him on the back. “Oh, you'll see.”
You stepped up to the mic, the one Eddie's used on countless occasions, and wrapped your little hands around it. Something about it being his mic your lips were so close to made the primitive part of his brain purr with delight, and he relaxed into his seat, hiding his growing erection under the table.
Steve slid his beer to Eddie, who took a grateful sip, his mouth dry as the desert.
“Santa Baby, just slip a Sable under the tree, for me,” you sang, your voice breathy and so sweet. “Been an awful good girl.”
Your eyes locked on Eddie and he nearly choked, his cock lurching painfully against his jeans, heart pounding in his ears.
Surely you didn't mean to look directly at him, right? He had a habit of searching you out during shows too, you were probably just mirroring that. Looking for a familiar face in a sea of strangers.
“Santa Baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight.” You dragged your hands down the mic stand, swaying your hips to the music, and Eddie thought he might faint.
He maybe would have, if it wasn't for the roaring men pushing towards the front of the stage drawing his attention.
But your eyes were still locked on him, ignoring them entirely, and he gave you an encouraging thumbs up. He wasn't about to let his stupid crush, or a bunch of leering creeps, ruin your fun.
You kept singing, your voice a little wobbly, but airy in that way that made his pants tighten and his mind wander to places it definitely shouldn't. You looked so beautiful up there, laughing and swaying to the music, that Eddie found himself smiling too.
“Lookin’ a little lovesick there, Eds,” Steve teased, nudging him with his elbow.
Eddie waved him off. “Nah, just making sure she has someone that isn't a perv to look at.”
Steve nodded, popping some nuts into his mouth. Steve was the only friend of theirs that seemed to clock Eddie's shift in demeanor, though he mostly kept it to himself. Eddie knew he knew, and Steve knew that Eddie knew he knew, and that was good enough.
You wrapped up the song with a flourish, doing a little curtsy in your mini skirt, and Eddie cheered as loud as he could, ensuring you heard him over the roar of douche bags.
He jumped up, rushing to meet you at the edge of the stage before someone else could, adjusting himself as went. The crowd parted and there you were, bright as the morning sun, bounding down the stairs and into his arms.
“I did it!” You cried.
“You were amazing,” he murmured, lifting you up and spinning your around. It was totally platonic, but the rest of these fucks didn't know that.
“Phew, what a show. Next up we have a familiar face! Eddie Munson of our very own Corroded Coffin singing ‘Blue Christmas’!”
You squealed in delight and Eddie's jaw dropped. “Go, go!” You shoved against his back, pushing him up the stairs as someone handed him a guitar.
“Figured you didn't need the track, yeah?” Danny, the stagehand said with a grin.
“I don't know this shit, man,” Eddie protested, but Danny rolled his eyes.
“I'll play it in the background, you'll pick it up!”
Suddenly Eddie was in the spotlight, and you were jumping up and down on the side stage. It was far from an atypical experience for him, but butterflies still churned in his stomach. He never got used to you watching him perform, even if it was something as silly as Christmas karaoke. The pressure to impress you was paralyzing, but if it would make you happy…
The track started rolling softly in the background, and he focused on his fingers, finding the simple chord and replicating it with relative ease. The audience cheered even louder, and he smirked to himself.
He risked a glance over at you, confident he had a handle on the notes, and you were practically glowing with joy.
Shit, maybe Corroded Coffin needed to add some Christmas song to their set.
Words started to roll across the small screen at his feet, and he stepped up to the mic, absolutely delighted to find a smear of your lipgloss on the net.
“I’ll have a blue Christmas, without you,” he crooned, putting on his best Elvis impression, and the roar of the ladies was deafening. “I'll be so blue just thinking about you.” He let his eyes wander back to you at the end of the lyric, wondering if you understood just how close this song hit home for him.
You were grinning ear to ear, swaying happily to the music. Oblivious.
“You’ll be doing all right, with your Christmas of white. But I'll have a blue, blue blue blue Christmas,” he continued, finding that he did, in fact, know this song despite his earlier assertion.
C’mon, who didn't know Elvis?
Thankfully, it was an incredibly brief song, and he finished off with a freestyle riff, earning another cacophony of drunken cheers.
He bowed and hustled of the stage to where you waited for him, arms open. He held the guitar behind his back and scooped you up around the waist with his free arm, lifting your feet off the ground.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, wafting your sweet perfume and the bitter sting of alcohol over him. “That was amazing!” You gushed.
“Thanks, sweetheart. But you were better,” he replied, passing Danny the guitar. He started to carry you down the steps, but you shook your head.
“Wanna go backstage,” you murmured against his ear, and his heart stopped.
He pulled his head back to look at you, eyebrows raised. “Backstage? Why?”
You worried your lip between your teeth, eyes like melting honey. “Please, Eddie baby?”
He could do nothing but obey, backing up the steps and ducking behind the curtain with you still in his arms. He shifted his hold you, your legs wrapping around his waist, mini skirt pushing up to enough to give him a glimpse of the cherry red of your panties.
You dragged your nails down his shoulders, your lips finding his throat and leaving soft, sticky kisses along his jugular vein that may as well have been along his cock for how intense the contact felt.
“Honey,” he grunted, stopping to press you against a dressing room door. “How drunk are you?” he panted, eyes crossing when your tongue laved over his pulse, your teeth grazing his pierced lobes.
“Not too drunk, I promise,” you said, pulling back to look him in the eye. “Been wanting this for so long, Eddie, please—”
He swallowed your sweet words with a kiss, tentative at first, but quickly devolving into a sloppy mess, your cherry lip gloss and the lingering taste of cranberry vodka flipping a switch in his brain that had his long-held control unraveling. This was his one shot to impress you, his one shot to get you as addicted to him as he was to you, and he was not about to fuck it up.
Eddie was the town freak, and dating him came with all the baggage of that title. But he’d show you the benefits of it, too.
He had to make like Santa Clause and fucking deliver.
With a quick turn of his wrist, he opened the door to the dressing room and carried you through. He dropped you onto the leather chaise before climbing up your body, capturing your lips in another hungry kiss. Your tongue probed at his lower lip and he opened for you, your smaller muscle licking curiously along the inside of his mouth, when he felt the tip of it brush the warm metal of his tongue piercing.
You gasped, apparently having forgotten about that particular modification, and pride blazed through his chest like an inferno.
He leveraged your surprise to turn the power into his favor, driving his tongue into your mouth, feeling drunk himself on the intoxicating taste of your drool. He dragged the piercing over the roof of your mouth and you shivered, your hips rising to press against his thigh.
He pressed his leg harder against your deliciously warm cunt and you whimpered, you hips rolling in a more deliberate motion. He brought one of his hands down to grip your hip, his rings digging into your soft flesh as he helped you ride his thigh.
“How long you been wanting this, baby? Huh?” He rasped against your ear, hearing your breath hitch. “Barely touched you and look, so desperate already.”
Your hands curled against his shirt, your hips stuttering against his thigh as the pleasure mounted, your slick starting to seep through your panties onto his jeans. “Fuck, feels s’good,” you whined, burying your face into his neck.
“Yeah? Little pussy getting nice and wet for me? Such a good girl. Look so sexy riding my thigh.” He encouraged, noting the way his words made your hips move incrementally faster, the filth spurring you on.
Despite thoroughly enjoying the sight of you dry humping his leg, his mouth watered for something even sweeter.
He moved his thigh back, the denim wet with your honey, and he lowered to his knees on the ground. “Can I taste, sugar? You’re not the only one that's been waiting ages for this.” He started kissing up your inner thighs, wet and loud smacks on your tender skin as he moved closer to your sopping panties.
“Please, Eds, wanna feel you,” you panted, spreading your thighs wider for him like an angel opening heaven’s gates.
His heart gave an elated thump. How could this be real life? Here he was, moments from devouring your drooling, pink pussy and you were saying his name like that? Asking to feel his tongue against you? Maybe he really had gone to fucking heaven.
“Fuck, so pretty. So fucking perfect.” He dragged his tongue over the clingy fabric of your panties, sucking the material into his mouth to taste you. His eyes rolled back in his head—so fucking sweet.
With deft fingers, he slid them down your legs and stuffed them in his back pocket, before settling back between your legs.
You were trembling with anticipation, worrying your lips between your teeth as you watched him through your painted lashes. With a flattened tongue, he licked from your entrance to your clit, feeling the heat, the velvet softness of your slit without obstruction.
You keened, throwing your head back onto the arm of the couch when he swirled the tip around your clit, flicking his piercing over the sensitive bud.
Shit, he could do this forever. Just live between your legs, making music with the most beautiful instrument he'd ever played: you.
With two fingers, he dipped into the pool of slick at your entrance, lubricating himself before easing them inside, watching your face over the stretch of your body for signs of discomfort. But you only continued to moan, already looking gorgeously wrecked.
He worked you with his tongue and fingers, finding that spongy spot inside you that made you sing, and let himself get lost in the rhythm, the mind-numbing bliss of pleasuring you.
“Eddie baby, fuck. M’getting close,” you whined, and he could feel the truth of your statement, your walls starting to twitch and clench around his fingers, your clit swelling under his tongue.
“That's it, sugar. Come all over my tongue, wanna drown in you—”
You cry drowned out his words, the cunt clenching hard around his aching fingers, a fresh gush of honey soaking his palm and chin. Pride soared through him, and he greedily lapped up every drop you released for him, watching your body twitch and writhe while you came down.
“You’re a goddamn dream, baby. Did so well f’me,” he cooed, easing his fingers out of you and cleaning them with his tongue before placing a final kiss on your puffy clit.
“Fuck, Eddie,” you panted, pulling him up onto the couch with shaky arms. “You're too good at that.” You leaned in for a kiss, dragging your tongue over his lips before smushing your lips together in a quick, sloppy press.
“Thank you, honey,” he hummed, feeling like a damn king. The luckiest bastard alive.
But then you shifted off the couch, settling on your knees between his thighs, and his brain turned off.
“Honey, what are you—” His words fractured into a strangled moan when you dragged your tongue over the hard swell of his cock, separated by the rough fabric of his jeans.
You continued to mouth at his bulge while undoing his belt with quick little fingers, unzipping his jeans. He reached into his boxers and freed himself, still half-dazed by the sight of you on your knees for him in a dirty, dive bar dressing room.
He was painfully hard, the head and angry red and leaking, his balls already tight and hot. And you, sweet thing you are, didn't waste a second, popping the head into your mouth and sucking the precum from his skin.
Your mouth was scalding, melting his mind at the wet pliancy of your tongue and cheeks while you took him deeper.
“Fucking shit, baby. Oh god—” he fisted the couch cushions, the temptation to fist your hair and push you deeper overwhelming. But he wanted to see what you would do on your own.
You hollowed out your cheeks, bobbing your head up and down his shaft with messy, drooling strokes, your hand wrapped around his base. His vision went fuzzy, heat curling low in his stomach as pleasure spilled through him.
Shit, you were too fucking good at that.
“Baby, baby, baby,” he chanted, head thrown back against the couch, and finally he let himself slide his fingers into your hair, careful to keep his rings from catching. You leaned into him, moaning softly around his length.
He picked his head up, needing to watch you as you reached the base of him, a sticky, soaking mess in the thatch of his dark pubic hair.
“That's it, sugar. Just like that—fuck,” he grunted, his hips canting up when he felt the tightness of your throat, your tongue lapping at the throbbing root of him. He was deliriously, embarrassingly close already, but he didn't have the heart to slow you down for even a second.
You pulled back, suckling the head with your plush lips while your hand twisted up and down his slippery shaft, the swallowed him down again with a sinful slurp.
Like a bolt of lightening, his balls drew up and he was coming, unable to give you more of a warning than his hand tightening in your hair his cock swelling on your tongue. Sparks danced behind his eyes, his nerves frying beneath his skin as he released rope after rope of come down your throat.
And like a good girl, you swallowed it all and sucked him dry, broken whines falling from his lips as your nursed his oversensitive head.
“Baby, fuck, take it easy on me—”
You released him with a pop, flashing the sweetest, most angelic smile with your chin covered in drool and lipgloss, and he dragged you up into his lap, desperate to hold you close.
“I do good?” You asked, batting your lashes at him, a smug little smirk on your face.
“Good? Honey, you rocked my world.” He pulled you in for a kiss, toothy and playful since neither of you could stop smiling, giddy with the shock of it all.
You giggled as his rained kisses over your face, down your neck, his fingers tickling along your hips and up over your ribs. He wrapped his arms around your waist, leaning back against the couch as he slowed his movements, coaxing you to relax into him.
“Wanted you for long,” he murmured into your hair. “Please tell me you'll be mine.” The words came out so soft, for a second he wasn't sure if you'd heard him.
But then you pressed your hands to his chest and sat up a little, looking into his eyes. “I already am, Eds.”
He grinned, cheeks sore and heart pounding, and kissed you again while a terrible rendition of Ella Fitzgerald's “I’ve Got My Love To Keep Me Warm” bleed through the thin walls.
Looked like it wouldn't be a blue Christmas after all.
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lovebugism · 2 days ago
Note
i’d love to see what you’d do for a holiday spent with rockstar!eddie 🙂‍↔️ maybe a quiet night in decorating or just smitten with each other’s company after time spent apart?? a suggestive ending maybe 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️
ty for requesting :D — you and rockstar!eddie spend the holidays together after coming back from tour (rockstar!eddie universe, established relationship, allusions to smut 18+ | 1.2k)
You wake that morning to a heavy and familiar weight on top of you. 
Eddie Munson — rockstar, heartthrob, and world-famous dweeb — is sprawled along your back like your own personal blanket. You swear you can feel his heart beating softly against your shoulder blade while his mouth rests on your cheek, pink and softly parted to exhale little snores in your ear.
You let him for a while, until you think you feel drool on your jaw.
“Wha—?” Eddie slurs when you shift slightly to shove at him. He makes no move to get off of you, though.
“You know we aren’t in a bunk anymore, right?” you mumble into the pillow. “So you don’t have to sleep directly on top of me now.”
“Well, jokes on you, ‘cause I love being on top of you,” he quips, voice heavy with sleep.
You raise a feeble hand to swat at him. “You’re such a perv,” you grumble.
Eddie laughs quietly in your ear, then brushes his lips along your cheek in a chaste kiss. “Want breakfast?” he mumbles against your skin, soft and warm with a lingering slumber.
You nod lazily against the cushion. “Yeah. But I also wanna sleep for, like, five more hours…”
“How 'bout I do a bagel run, and after we fall asleep on the couch? Like old times?”
The mention of old times makes your chest feel all sparkly. Back when you swore you’d hate each other to the grave, but Eddie still had your breakfast order memorized, and you’d still have his favorite T.V. show on by the time he got back.
You’d doze off together, on opposite sides of the couch, but under the same blanket — like some kind of old married couple. Until Steve inevitably found you both there, and you’d go back to hating each other all over again.
“Deal,” you mumble, already half-asleep.
Eddie pats your ass twice and slides off of you.
You grieve his warmth the moment he’s gone.
An hour or more later, the two of you are sufficiently full with breakfast, passed out on opposite sides of the couch, with Scooby Doo re-runs playing quietly across the room.
That’s precisely how Steve finds you — his roommates turned world-famous rockstars — snoring with their mouths wide open, at one in the afternoon, after months of being away. 
With his arms full of groceries, he slams the door shut with his foot. The resounding thud startles both of you accordingly. You and Eddie lift your heavy heads like waking zombies, wincing as you stretch your aching backs.
“This is really humbling to see, by the way,” Steve quips as he hangs his keys by the door.
Eddie scowls. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Nothing,” Steve shrugs. “It’s just— while you guys were halfway across the country, people wouldn’t stop gushing about the two of you... But it’s a really nice reminder to know that you guys are still a bunch of slobs.”
“Asshole…” Eddie grumbles.
You wipe the sleep from your eye and sit further up. “What are those?” you ask, nodding to the paper bags he holds in both arms.
Steve’s lips jut softly out as he peers over the tops of his groceries. “Ornaments, garlands, tinsel… And some condoms, ‘cause we were running low.”
“Who’s we?” Eddie scoffs.
“Me and your mom—”
“I love you, Stevie,” you say. “But there’s no way in hell I’m decorating this place today.”
“Yeah, Harrington,” the wild-haired boy beside you squints. “We just got home. You’ll have to peel me off this couch if you want me to help.”
“Oh, please,” Steve scoffs.
“What?”
You flash him a knowing grin. “We all know you’re gonna watch Steve do it until he inevitably puts something in the wrong spot and pisses you off until you just to do it yourself. You do it every year, Eds.”
Eddie rolls his chocolate eyes. “I’m not that predictable, doll.”
—————
The apartment is fully decorated by nightfall, by Eddie’s own stubborn volition.
Steve helps you bake a batch of cookies, then promptly leaves after taking a phone call you weren’t allowed to spy in on. He shoves on his coat and mumbles something about an old bootycall that was back in town for the holidays.
You break into his good liquor accordingly, and spike your mugs of hot chocolate with his expensive whiskey.
“C’mere,” Eddie waves from his spot by the glowing Christmas tree.
You let out an immediate whine from the couch, made sluggish from the long day and the spiked cocoa. “What?” you call back in a dramatic mewl.
“You gotta put the star on, doll— You do it every year,” he mocks with a lopsided smile, slick with alcohol.
“But I’m comfortable!”
“Stop complainin’ and get your sweet ass up here.”
You comply, though not without a series of inaudible grumbles as your feet shuffle along the carpeted floor in subdued protest. Eddie guides you up the small step ladder with his palms splayed on your ass.
“What? I’m helping you!” he defends when you flash him a knowing look.
His hands jerk instinctively to your hips when you rise to the tips of your toes, leaning slightly over to hang the shining star upon the highest bough, as it were. You don’t seem to notice how the old wood wobbles slightly beneath you. Eddie does, though, and his chest stings with a fleeting panic as you smile widely down at him.
“It’s so pretty, Eds,” you marvel, only partially tipsy. “You did such a good job.”
“I know,” Eddie hums, all proud of himself, as his palms smooth back over the plush of your ass. “So pretty…” he echoes in a distracted murmur.
“Stop being a perv. I’m trying to compliment you.” You roll your eyes and descend the creaking ladder.
The tree looks best from far away, you think — a chaotic mess of lights and tinsel; of shiny new ornaments and old ones the three of you have collected since childhood. It’s nostalgic, homey, warm. All the feelings you’d nearly forgotten about after spending months on the road.
“Thank you for doing all the work, by the way,” you lilt sheepishly, resting your head on Eddie’s shoulder when he stands at your side. You inhale the sweet scent of his cologne until your chest glows with it.
“How’re you gonna make up for it, huh?” he quips, obviously playful, as he presses a chaste kiss to your hair.
“By cleaning up the mess you made.”
Eddie only then seems to notice the piles of boxes and ripped-open plastic littered along the floor. “Okay, well, what about after that?” he presses.
“Um… Getting in the shower, probably,” you continue with a feigned obliviousness. “‘Cause I smell like sweat and booze.”
A pleased sound rumbles in Eddie’s throat as he smiles down at you. “Mm… Can I join?”
You meet his grin with your brows raised in question. “Only if you’re gonna shave my legs for me,” you answer.
He’s grown strangely fond of doing it for you, which you noticed after months of sharing showers to save water on the road. Not only does it save you the grueling work, but it’s always sure to end with his mouth between your thighs. 
So it's a win-win, really. 
Eddie knows it, too, and he smiles wider than he realizes.
“Deal.”
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archivequinn · 3 days ago
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i loved your fic where reader cries and eddie calms her down as a thoughtful romantic caring boyfriend. i wonder if you could write something like that again. short or long, it doesn't matter. <3
Thank you so much! I'm so glad you liked it, I hope you like this one too. I did my best.
Nightmare eddie munson x fem!reader, fluff
summary: when you have a bad dream, your boyfriend eddie takes care of you at midnight, calms you down.
Falling asleep in Eddie’s trailer always gives you a different kind of peace. The bed is small, but Eddie’s presence makes you forget all the tightness. The faintly trembling walls of the trailer and the sounds of crickets outside add a strange serenity to the night. You’re wearing one of Eddie’s oversized sweatshirts; it still smells like him, that unique scent—slightly spicy and a bit woody.
Underneath, you’re wearing one of his boxers, because Eddie had grinned at you and said, “I love seeing you in those.” On the other end of the bed, he’s sleeping in just his boxers, the faint light of the trailer highlighting the contours of his shoulders. He’s breathing easily and deeply, completely at ease.
The night had started off sweet. The spice of the hot chicken wings you ate earlier still leaves a burning sensation at the corners of your lips. After that, you’d cracked open a couple of beers and laughed hysterically at an absurd horror movie Eddie had picked. His deep, slightly raspy laughter still echoes in your ears.
You fell asleep feeling drunk on this peacefulness, but at some point, a dream pulled you in. Everything felt so real. You were losing Eddie. Right before your eyes, he was disappearing, as if turning into a shadow and vanishing. You couldn’t speak, couldn’t stop him. You wanted to scream, but your throat felt tight, like it was constricted. You took a step forward, but the ground was slippery, your hands reaching out to grasp the cold void.
You jolted awake with a gasp of fear. The trailer was dark, with only a faint orange glow from a streetlamp filtering through the edge of the window. Your breaths were rapid, your chest rising and falling. You turned to Eddie beside you. He was still there. His back was to you, his hair spilling over his shoulders, rising and falling gently with his peaceful breaths. The weight on your chest eased slightly, but tears welled in your eyes for a moment. Losing him for real… the thought alone sent shivers through you.
Unable to resist, you placed your hand gently on his back. Your palm felt the warmth of his skin. It was as if this simple gesture reassured you: “He’s here, next to me.”
Eddie stirred slightly at your touch, lifting his head from the pillow and mumbling sleepily, “Hey... everything okay?”
The warmth and concern in his voice instantly softened you. “I had a dream,” you said, your voice still trembling.
Eddie, without opening his eyes, reached back to pull you into him. The weight of his arm around you melted all your fears. “I’m here,” he murmured softly. “The dream’s over.”
You rested your head on his shoulder, your nose burying into the curve of his neck. His scent, Eddie’s presence, the tiny world inside the trailer... it was all real.
You wrapped your arms tightly around him, letting him draw you even closer with a sleepy smile. Your heartbeat began to steady. As he drifted back to sleep, you simply listened to his breathing. You were afraid of losing him, yes. But this moment, his presence, kept you safe.
Your breaths became uneven, and then, without realizing it, tears started slipping down your cheeks. The warm droplets trailed down your face, and for a moment, you tried to hold them back, but it was futile. The impact of the dream ran so deep, leaving a weight in your throat that you couldn’t shake.
When Eddie noticed the quiet sobs escaping you, he quickly turned. His half-asleep face was suddenly filled with concern. “Hey, hey... what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” he asked, his voice soft and gentle, though his eyes showed a flicker of panic.
You couldn’t find the words, shaking your head as you wiped at your eyes with trembling hands. But that only made you cry harder. Eddie didn’t hesitate. Sitting up, he pulled you into his arms, pressing you against his chest. “Shh... it’s okay, it’s okay,” he murmured, his lips brushing over your hair. “Don’t be scared, I’m here. Nothing’s going to happen to you.”
His voice was as soft as a whisper but carried a soothing strength. He held you like that for a while, his palm gliding gently over your back. Even as you were wracked with sobs, he stayed patient, waiting for you to calm down.
Finally, taking a deep breath, you whispered hoarsely, “I had a dream about losing you.”
Eddie pulled back slightly, his hands on your shoulders as he looked into your eyes. Those beautiful brown eyes of his, still heavy with sleep, were full of love.
“Me?” he asked, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily, sweetheart. Look, I’m still here. Still your silly Eddie.”
You nodded with a faint smile, though your tears kept falling. Eddie noticed and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Come on, let’s wash your face. This beautiful face isn’t meant for crying this much,” he said, gently helping you out of bed.
When you reached the trailer’s tiny bathroom, Eddie grabbed a towel and turned on the tap. The water was cold, but it was enough to cool the warmth of your tears. He soaked the towel and pressed it gently against your face. “There we go,” he murmured. “Fresh start. No more crying, okay?”
You tried to laugh lightly, but a shiver still lingered. Eddie noticed and rolled his eyes playfully. “Oh, so I guess this is my fault for picking that stupid movie? I told you it’d give you nightmares.”
“Eddie!” you protested, lightly swatting his shoulder with a small laugh. Eddie chuckled, shaking his head. “Hey, I’m innocent. It was probably those chicken wings cursing us. They were way too spicy, probably fried our brains.”
He handed you a glass of water. “Come on, drink up. Crying dehydrates you.”
When your shaky hands struggled, he held the glass with his own, guiding it to your lips. “There you go. One more sip.”
Then he led you back to the small sitting area. Before heading back to bed, he sat on the floor, pulling you down beside him. His fingers combed gently through your hair as if trying to brush away all your fears. “You need a new hairstylist,” he teased, tugging playfully at a strand before tickling your side.
“Eddie, stop!” you whined, but he didn’t seem to care. “No, no, this face owes me a smile,” he declared, fingers trailing to your ribs as he tickled you. You tried to resist, but it was no use; laughter bubbled out, and the darkness of the dream faded into lightness.
Finally, you leaned against him, still giggling. Eddie finished smoothing your hair before resting his head on your shoulder. “I promise you,” he said, his voice low and serious. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll never leave you.”
In that moment, you felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude to have Eddie by your side. No matter what, you knew he would always make you feel safe.
taglist: (the only one 😅🧡) @nicholaschavezslut69 If you want to be added to my fic's taglist, just let me know. ✨
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tessab154 · 3 days ago
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Yaaassss Queen!!!
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Eddie Munson x Best Friend!Reader
Summary: You never meant for Eddie to know that you had a crush on him. What happened when he found out, courtesy of Mike Wheeler's big mouth?
WC: 2.6k
Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), angst to fluff to smut and then back to fluff?? I don't even know, idiots in love, p in v, semi-public sex (we get it on in the van, baby)
Part of @cherrycolored-punk's Softember event!
Divider credit to @saradika
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Friday, May 16, 1986: the day you determined that Mike Wheeler was the worst. 
You tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. After all, it couldn’t be easy growing up in Nancy’s perfect shadow. Just the time you spent working with her on the school newspaper was exhausting. 
That was where you were currently sprinting from, weaving through the empty hallways towards the drama room. Leave it to Nancy to schedule an emergency newspaper meeting on a Friday afternoon. 
“Sorry, sorry, sorry.” You kept your head down as you breezed into the Hellfire meeting. Even without looking, you could feel the guys glaring at you. The only thing less forgivable than missing a campaign was interrupting one. 
Gareth let out a huff, crossing his arms over his chest. “Nice of you to join us, Lady Atwood.” He shifted forward in his seat. “You’re in luck today—our fearless Dungeon Master has yet to grace us with his presence.”
You wrinkled your nose, only then noticing that Eddie’s throne remained empty. “Where is he?”
From his spot at the table, Mike Wheeler scoffed. “Surprised you don’t know, considering you’re basically in love with him.”
You were about to refute his statement, or at least give him a well-deserved middle finger, when you heard a clattering behind you. 
Like metal hitting the floor tiles.
No. No, no no no…
“S-Sorry.” Eddie stammered. He quickly scooped up the tin lunch box that doubled as a place to stash his weed. “I had a last-minute deal. Apparently there’s a party at McKinney’s house tonight and he needed some, uh, provisions. So, uh, yeah.” He cleared his throat, eyes darting around the room and looking at everyone except for you. “We can get started.”
There might as well have been a spotlight beaming down, accentuating the embarrassment written all over your face. Everyone in Hellfire knew about your crush on Eddie, but they had the decency to keep it a secret. 
Everyone except for Mike Wheeler, apparently. God, you wanted to squish that little shit like a bug beneath your shoe.
It certainly didn’t help that Eddie kept glancing at you, even when he addressed the group. Like he was waiting for you to say something about Mike’s comment. Waiting for you to refute it, to roll your eyes and whip out a snappy comeback. Maybe he was even hoping you would.
He was probably internally cringing just thinking about you having romantic feelings for him.
“Lady Atwood?”
Your gaze instinctively snapped over to Eddie when he said your name. He was looking at you, brown eyes wide with anticipation of your response. 
Warmth crept up your neck. He had heard what Mike said about you being in love with him–he had to have. He’d just had the good grace to brush over it because…
Because he didn’t feel the same way and didn’t want to cause you any further humiliation.
“Y-Yeah?” You choked on the word, trying to put the incident behind you. But you couldn’t, because the pain of unrequited feelings kept yanking on your heart, drawing tears that you desperately wished would evaporate.
“Gareth the Great has proposed battling the demogorgon.” There was a hint of a smirk on Eddie’s lips. It was your first clue that the move would prove entertaining, perhaps at your character’s demise. “We’re waiting for your input.”
Nodding, you chewed the inside of your cheek and studied the board. Okay, it looked like winning the battle was feasible, though a bit risky. The rest of the club watched as you contemplated; Gareth especially was practically vibrating with anticipation.
Then the ceiling started leaking. Soft drops with no particular rhythm, landing on your cheeks. Just your luck–first Mike’s big mouth spilled your secret, then whatever nastiness was living in Hawkins High School’s pipes was now seeping into your skin.
“Holy shit, is she crying?”
Dustin Henderson’s voice broke into your thoughts. His tone, for possibly the first time since you’d met him, held only concern with a note of snark.
Who was crying? You were the only girl in the club now that Ronnie had graduated, save for the times Erica Sinclair served as a substitute. Which meant…
“Way to go, asshole.” Lucas thwacked Mike across the chest. 
“I didn’t know he was there!”
The purple fabric of your shirt darkened beneath your arms as another disconcerting flash of heat hit you. You wanted to crawl into a hole and die. Maybe you’d get lucky and the floor would open beneath you and swallow you up. 
“I need to get some air.” Whether you spoke the words aloud or said them silently to yourself, you weren’t sure. 
Your feet seemed to carry you out of the room and through the school’s front doors. Tears blurred your vision, and you swiped them away before any other lingering students could see. 
The air was warm, teasing of the approaching summer. God, summer—you always spent it with Eddie, lounging by the public pool or sitting down at Lovers Lake. You’d read a book while he pored over his Hellfire notebook, scribbling notes for future campaign ideas. 
Would he still want to do that, to spend those long days with you, now that he knew about your pathetic crush? 
It wasn’t until you reached the parking lot that you remembered: Eddie drove you to school that morning. If you started walking now, you’d definitely get home before dark. Or maybe you could call your parents from the payphone if you managed to scrounge up the change—
The sound of your name stopped you in your tracks. You should’ve kept walking the moment you saw Eddie, his frizzy curls bouncing as he jogged over to you. 
“Hey.” His hand brushed yours, though you pulled away before he could grab ahold of it. “Where are you going?”
“Home.”
He sighed. “Okay, let me rephrase that: Why did you leave? Because of what Wheeler said?” Eddie let out a small, disbelieving laugh when you nodded. “He’s such a little shit. Always messing with me. I’m gonna kick his sorry ass one of these days.”
Your eyebrows shot up. Messing with Eddie? “What are you talking about?”
“That joke about you being in love with me. He obviously saw me in the doorway and said it to embarrass me.” A blush crept onto Eddie’s cheeks. “Y’know, ‘cause…”
But you didn’t know. You had no idea what he meant. And as much as Mike was a menace, he seemed sincere when he said he didn’t realize that Eddie was there. 
“Because why?”
“Because,” Eddie’s gaze shifted to his van’s tires before he finally looked at you again. “Because he knows I have this dumb crush on you, and he thinks it’s hilarious to fuck with me about it.”
Words evaded you. This had to be some sort of elaborate set-up. Eddie had a crush on you? When girls like Chrissy Cunningham and Heather Holloway lived in the very same town? 
Impossible. 
Not privy to the argument playing out inside your head—thank God—Eddie babbled on. “I know it’s weird. That’s why I haven’t told you—well, until right now. And I’m starting to regret it, because you’re looking at me like I have three heads. So maybe I’ll just shut up now.”
“No.” Summoning all of your courage, you took his hand in yours and managed a smile. “Eddie, Mike was teasing me because I like you. More than a friend should like a friend.”
Eddie’s tongue darted out to wet his lips. “What if I told you…I don’t want to just be friends?”
You let your eyes meet his. “I-I don’t want to just be friends, either.”
He took a pause before he asked his next question. Your heartbeat thrummed in your ears as you waited for him to speak.
“And what if I did this?” One palm, callused from years of guitar playing, cupped your cheek. Eddie moved closer, his nose bumping against yours in a clumsy attempt to close the gap between you. “Shit, that–that was supposed to be suave.”
“Shut up and kiss me, Munson.” The words left your mouth before you could think them through. Your fingers tangled into his hair, pulling him back towards you and finishing what he had started.
His lips, soft and tasting vaguely of the cigarettes he’d smoked after school, crashed into yours. One hand snaked around your waist and pressed you against him until you felt his metal belt buckle through your shirt.
You moaned softly, letting his tongue into your mouth without hesitation. More, more, more…you needed more. You needed all of him. 
It was Eddie who broke the kiss, much to your chagrin. But what he said next made up for the loss.
“Sorry…I’m trying to be a gentleman. But it’s, uh, getting a little hard.” He chuckled, stealing another quick kiss. “Pun very much intended.”
A quick glance proved that Eddie wasn’t lying: His erection tantalizingly strained against his fly. What you wouldn’t give to feel him inside you…
“Y’know, take you on a date, tell you how pretty you look,” Eddie continued, shifting his stance in a pitiful attempt to quell his desire. “I don’t wanna go at it in the school parking lot like some feral rabbits.” He waved his hand haphazardly. 
You bit your lip, weighing your options. A date would be nice; perhaps a night at The Hawk, his arm around you as a movie played on a giant screen. Or maybe he’d take you to dinner—nothing as expensive as Enzo’s, but somewhere more romantic than your usual Benny’s hangout. 
A date with Eddie was something you’d only ever dreamed of. But right now, you needed to live out a different fantasy before you combusted from an overload of lust. 
“Remember the first campaign you created this year?” Your soft voice held a sultry air despite your nerves. “It was your most sadistic one yet. We were all ready to forfeit, but you took pity on us and gave us a hint.”
Taking a deep breath, you plunged your hand into his front pocket. “Do you remember what you said?”
Eddie shook his head. “I can’t remember my own goddamn name right now, Sweetheart.”
You laughed, your finger hooking around his keyring. “You said that sometimes, it’s better to work backwards.”
With a triumphant grin, you plucked the keys from his pocket. 
“You’re gonna be the death of me.” His own smile betrayed his exasperated exterior as he grabbed your hand. His van seemed a million miles away, though it was parked in one of the closest spots in the lot. 
Eddie yanked open the back door, waiting just long enough for you to get settled before he scrambled in behind you. The moment the door closed, he pulled you on top of him. 
You could feel him, feel his hardness, against your core. You rolled your hips instinctively, savoring the friction. 
Hands clamped down on your denim-covered thighs. “You gotta…you can’t…” Eddie choked, struggling for words. “We’re already about to do it in my van. I don’t wanna look even more pathetic by coming in my pants.”
Warmth blossomed in your body. You could imagine him sputtering out a stream of swear words as he came, flooding his own boxers with his release. 
Maybe another day. 
Buttons were undone, flies were unzipped, clothes were discarded into a pile in the corner of the van. It was only you and Eddie, not a single scrap of fabric between you. 
Sweat glistened on his chest, matting down the sparse hairs that curled around his nipples. You leaned in, kissing just above the demon head tattoo etched on his pec. 
“Baby,” he crooned. The new pet name wasn’t lost on you. Your heart beat faster, a butterfly frantically flapping its wings. “Baby, I need you.”
He did need you, unless he was going to take care of his achingly hard cock by himself. The pink tip leaked with pre-cum, and if you had more room, you would have licked it clean off. 
You settled for swiping it away with your thumb, his abdomen tightening at the sudden contact. Eddie nearly passed out on the spot when you sucked on your finger, savoring the salty taste.
“Baby,” he groaned again. “I w-wanted to get you off first, ‘cause I know I’m not gonna last like this.”
“S’okay.” You lined him up with your entrance, ignoring the way your hands shook as you slowly sank down onto him. His hips bucked up almost of their own accord. “F-Fuck, Eddie…”
Eddie looked up at you, brown irises wide. He paused for an extra moment; maybe he really had forgotten his own name. “I know, I know,” he said finally. “God, I fucking know, baby.” 
His thumb found your clit the second he composed himself, rubbing delicate circles until your toes curled. His other hand held you with just enough force to keep you stable while still being able to ride him.
“You’re so beautiful.” He let out a breathless laugh. “If I wake up and this was all a dream, I’m gonna be pissed.”
You shared the same thought. What if the Eddie laying before you, curls splayed against the worn carpet of his van, groaning your name–your name–was all a mirage? Another fantasy conjured up by your lovesick brain?
“I’ve never had a dream this good before.”
“Me either,” he admitted, “but the only ones that’ve come close involve you.”
You tightened around him, your hands flush against his chest. The fact that you occupied his thoughts, unconscious or otherwise, sent a wave of arousal rolling through you. You wanted to hear every last detail of those dreams, to know exactly what turned him on.
Maybe later. Right now, your focus stayed on the way he touched you. So intentional, so precise. And Eddie worked you through your orgasm, keeping his same rhythm as you came around him.
“There you go, pretty girl. That’s it,” he murmured. “‘M close. Where do you–where can I–”
“Inside.” You’d never been more grateful to be on the pill. 
Eddie let himself go, unleashing a torrent of desire. He thrust into you, chasing his own release now that he knew you’d gotten yours.
It was only when he slowed his pace, milking the last drops of cum from his cock, that reality began to settle in.
You just had sex with your best friend in the back of his van, a few hundred feet away from where your friends were gathered around a DnD board–
“Oh my God, Eddie!” Your eyes snapped open in realization. “Hellfire–they’re still there.”
Eddie pulled you closer and kissed your forehead. You relaxed into his chest. “They’re smart guys when they’re not being idiots.” The words vibrated against your skin. “I’m sure they figured out that we weren’t coming back.”
He sighed, wrapping one arm around you. “Can I take you on that date now, baby? Y’know, once we get dressed.” He smirked. “We can go to Scoops Ahoy and split a sundae. And then, if you want, I’ll take you back to my place and undress you again?”
You scrambled for your clothes almost as quickly as you’d shed them, Eddie following suit. And as much as you wanted to have sex with him again, to really take your time and cherish each second, you were equally excited to cuddle up in a booth and share some ice cream.
Friday, May 16, 1986: the day Mike Wheeler’s lack of filter didn’t completely backfire. Because it was also the day that you and Eddie Munson became boyfriend and girlfriend.
--
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electrosuite · 2 days ago
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okay. al. i need something put into words. idk if you've seen it but in "we live in time" andrew and florence didn't hear cut when filming a sex scene. so i was wondering. could you do something where eddie has taken up acting. it's an experimental movie, so y'all are actually fucking. it's unsimulated sex. y'all don't hear cut, but you're so into it that neither of you stop. you don't notice until he cums, then you both remember the cameras.
warnings: swearing, fingering oral sex, descriptive sex, sex on camera
word count: 2.3k
a/n: i saw we live in time opening week and absolutely loved it. put andrew garfield's bare ass in more movies!!!
masterlist
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One of the best decisions you'd made was moving to Hollywood to pursue acting. You loved it, and you were a natural. You could make yourself cry on command, you often lost yourself in scenes, and you weren't afraid to get nude on camera. That was something that was pretty common for the 80s, specifically female nudity.
You'd filmed many sex scenes in your career, but they were all simulated. Prosthetics, body doubles, cushions between bodies. But when you were approached to do an experimental film, one with completely unsimulated sex, your curiosity was piqued.
You were told you wouldn't meet the other actor until the day of, which turned out to be the first day on set. You were told that some studios, this one included, preferred to get sex scenes out of the way first and film the rest after. Your first impression of this guy would be when you had sex with him.
So when you were sitting on set in your tight black dress — which would be removed in the scene — and he walked in, your eyes widened. He was very handsome, just your type. He had long curly black hair, he was covered in tattoos, and immediately started joking around with the crew. He was wearing a suit, one which fit his body nicely.
When he spotted you, he walked right over and sat next to you.
"You my co-star?" he asked in a hopeful tone.
"That would be me."
"Eddie." He stuck his hand out and you shook it.
"Y/N."
"You look familiar. I feel like I've seen you in something else before."
"Maybe. Sorry, but I don't recognize you."
"I haven't been in anything big, just a couple of low-budget movies." He noticed your nervous energy. "You okay?"
"What? Oh, yeah. Sorry, just... I've never done anything... real. It's always been fake sex."
"Oh, yeah?"
"Mhm."
"Well, it's a first for both of us, then. It's a first-first for me, I've never done anything like this."
"Really?"
"Yep. Never even taken my shirt off on camera."
"And you're just jumping right in, huh?"
"Why not? If I'm gonna do it, I might as well go all in."
"Well, are you at least experienced?" you joked.
"Oh, I'm experienced. Yeah." You chuckled. "Also, I was told to tell you that they had me go ahead and put a condom on so it wouldn't disrupt the flow or anything. They said you were pretty adamant about it."
"Thank god. I really don't want to leave here today pregnant."
This made both of you laugh, but it was true. That was the most important thing to you when agreeing to do this movie.
"Alright, actors in positions," announced the director, who settled into his chair next to the camera.
Before you could get up, Eddie looked back at you. "Hey, I know we'll be recording, but don't let that stop you from telling me if I'm crossing any boundaries, alright?"
"Okay."
"Promise?"
"I promise. Thank you."
"Of course."
The scene immediately started with the two of you standing at the edge of a bed, inches away from each other. So that's where you went, your calves touching the mattress.
You'd read over the script for this scene numerous times. There was a camera a few feet from the bed, and one strapped onto the ceiling above where you would be laying. Neither of you would speak, just moan.
You were getting more nervous by the second, the lack of space between you two making your heart pound.
"Hey," he whispered, making eye contact with you. "You still good?"
You nodded. "Yeah. I'm good." You got yourself into the acting mindset as they finalized the cameras. "Ready."
"Quiet on set," yelled the director. Everyone hushed, the silence making you realize how many eyes were on you. "Action!"
You reached up and slowly undid Eddie's tie, his eyes never leaving your face. Once it was on the floor, he pulled you in for a kiss. It was gentle yet deep, both of you taking in a deep breath. His hands gripped your sides, your palms flat against his chest.
He reached around you and unzipped your dress, letting it fall to the floor. He then effortlessly unhooked your bra and you pulled it off of yourself. So far this was exactly like some of the other scenes you'd filmed. It was always a little bit nerve-wracking to expose yourself on camera — how could it not be?
He pushed you down onto the bed, his knees on the edge between yours.
He wasn't supposed to kiss you as long as he did. It was only supposed to be a couple before he moved on, but he was going off script a bit. His hand cupped the breast visible to the camera, which was now a bit closer.
He began kissing down to your neck a bit, then trailing along your body. He wrapped his lips around your nipple, his tongue circling it. You couldn't help but tangle your fingers in his hair, knowing it would help the scene.
As he kissed down your body, he maintained eye contact with you, watching to make sure you were still comfortable with this. Once he was to your thighs, he knelt down next to the bed and pulled you by the legs closer to him.
He slowly pulled your underwear off, dropping them on top of your dress. He continued to leave kisses on your thighs, making a genuine and impatient whine escape your mouth.
The feeling of his tongue on your clit made you gasp, your hands immediately finding their way back to his hair. This was weird with cameras, and at first it made it hard for you to really get in the mood.
But he was good with his tongue. You were so used to fake moaning that the real ones that came out of you felt foreign. His hands on your thighs, keeping them spread, were also keeping your hips still.
Usually when you filmed cunnilingus scenes, they kept their mouth closed and just positioned their face between your legs. So it was a foreign feeling to actually be eaten out on camera.
He couldn't stop staring at you, you looked so beautiful. Your head thrown back, back arched, tits out and nipples hard, fingers pulling his hair.
He wasn't supposed to make you cum, the script didn't call for it. He was supposed to do this for about thirty seconds and move on to the actual sex. But he was told that if the scene lasted too long, they could just edit it down. So he decided before even meeting you that he would make sure you had at least one orgasm today.
And it didn't take you long to get there. The camera had moved now so that it was behind him and to the side, getting a shot of his back and your face simultaneously.
"Fuck," you whispered to yourself as you felt your orgasm approaching, and fast. You were worried about how you would look, actually cumming and being recorded. You were trying to remain as calm as you possibly could, but you'd never been eaten out like this.
You were much louder than you anticipated when you finally came, and Eddie had to hold you down to keep you in the shot. When he finally stopped, he was immediately back to kissing you. He was still fully clothed, so you pushed his jacket off of his shoulders.
Instead of unbuttoning his shirt, he just pulled it over his head. He had a beautiful body, and you couldn't take your eyes off of him. You reached down and helped remove his belt, but he took over a moment later.
Within a minute, he was completely nude, and you got a good view of what he was packing. You were told before the shoot that you'd be having unprotected sex, and as you were already on birth control, it wasn't that big of a deal to you. Or at least, it wasn't until you were finally here. Now it was sinking in that you were about to be creampied by a guy you just met less than five minutes ago.
He was already rock hard, the sounds that escaped your mouth having gotten him bricked up immediately. He loved giving oral. It was one of his favorite things in the world. If it was up to him, he would've kept going, gotten you completely out of your mind before fucking your brains out.
He positioned himself back at eye level with you, reaching down and lining himself up with your entrance.
"That okay?" he whispered into your neck as he pressed kisses to your skin. He wasn't supposed to say that, the script calling for no dialogue aside from the natural swears that would occur. But he'd already gone against it, and asking for consent was something he insisted on.
"Mm," you moaned simply, nodding as minimally as possible.
With zero hesitation, he pushed into you, and the gasp that filled the room was almost comical. It was such a perfect porno moan that you couldn't believe it was genuine, even though it came from you.
He stretched you out so much, so perfectly, you weren't sure you could handle much of this. It was almost too much, too good.
He engulfed your mouth into his, kissing you deeply as he immediately picked up his pace. The bed was already squeaking, and your chest was already red.
The camera was above your head now, recording from an angle that showed the top of your thighs and your head thrown back as Eddie began sucking hickeys onto the skin of your neck.
That was when the scene was supposed to end. It was the shortest one in the script, which was another reason they wanted to get it over with first. But when the director shouted "Cut!", neither of you could hear him over the animalistic moans you both were letting out.
In fact, he called it about three times. But you two were so immersed, and your moans were so loud in each other's ears that it was useless. After a moment and after all the equipment was put down, the entire crew left the room and just allowed you to finish.
Out of all the times you'd had sex before, you didn't expect the best to be a completely scripted one. Eddie wasn't lying when he said he was experienced, he knew how to hit every nook in cranny in you like it was the millionth time.
When he felt himself getting close, he reached down and began circling your clit with his thumb. In the movies he'd seen, they always came at the same time. That didn't happen much in real life, but he wanted to make it look cinematic because, to his knowledge, they were still filming.
You gasped at the sudden contact, not expecting it. Thirty seconds later, you were cumming in sync, moaning into each other's mouths. He kept it going as long as he could but eventually he had to stop. Both his and your legs were trembling, sweat beading on your upper lip.
He kissed you for a moment, thinking in his head how great that would look on camera.
But when you both looked over at where the crew was, they were gone. You were confused, wondering why they didn't film as much as possible.
"Oh my god," you said, looking back up at Eddie. "Did they yell cut?"
His eyes widened. "Did they?"
"Did you hear them at all?"
"No, I didn't. Did you?"
"No."
You couldn't help but giggle at the situation. "Holy fucking shit."
"Jesus Christ, what the fuck."
"That's kind of hilarious."
He pulled out of you, pulling the condom off before grabbing one of the robes from the crates behind the camera, tossing another one to you. He opened the door to the rest of the set and the crew's heads shot up to look at him.
"Did... you yell cut?" he asked the director.
"Yep. Three times. You guys were so into it we figured we'd just let you finish."
That was when you laughed even harder, your head fuzzy and body tired.
After everything was cleaned up and you were heading back to your trailers, you caught up with Eddie outside his.
"Sorry we didn't hear cut earlier," you apologized.
"I'm not." He smirked slyly, and you felt butterflies flutter in your stomach.
"Do you think you'd do something like this again? Real sex on a set?"
He shrugged. "Maybe. With the right person."
"Well, if I get another opportunity like this, you're the first person I'm recommending."
"God, please do." His voice was raspy now, seductive, sultry. Normally you didn't pay any mind to men who flirted with you. But something about actually fucking Eddie seemed to form some kind of bond, maybe just in your head.
You reached into your pocket and pulled out a napkin, which had your phone number written on it. You leaned in close, wanting this to stay between the two of you.
"Well, if you ever want to do something without cameras, call me." You turned around to walk to your trailer, his eyes glued to your ass the whole time.
He swore he could get rock hard again right now if he wanted to. Something was different about you. You were one of the best fucks he'd ever had, and he intended on using that phone number sometime soon.
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hellmunsonfire · 3 days ago
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Eddie is jerking off, +18
As the darkness enveloped him, Eddie's eyelids fluttered open, his pupils adjusting slowly to the faint moonlight that seeped through the curtains. He lay there for a moment, his mind foggy and disoriented, trying to recall what had woken him from his restless slumber. The silence was oppressive, punctuated only by the soft hum of the air conditioner in the corner of his room.
Eddie's hand instinctively reached down to rub away the lingering sleepiness from his eyes. As he did so, his fingers brushed against something else - a hardness that seemed out of place among the tangled sheets. His gaze drifted downward, following the path of his hand until it came to rest on his own erect cock.
A slow smile spread across Eddie's face as he felt a familiar thrill coursing through him. It was an old habit, one he'd developed during his teenage years when sleepless nights and repressed desires had driven him to seek solace in the quiet darkness. He didn't bother to turn on the light; instead, he let his eyes adjust further, drinking in the dimly lit contours of his own body.
His hand closed around his cock, feeling its smooth texture as it responded eagerly to his touch. Eddie's breath quickened as he began to stroke himself lazily, the sensation sending shivers down his spine. The room seemed to fade away, replaced by a world of pure sensation - every nerve ending attuned to the gentle pressure and release of pleasure.
His fingers danced across the sensitive skin, tracing the ridges and valleys like a mapmaker charting unexplored territory. The softness of his palm contrasted with the rigid length of his dick, creating an intoxicating mix of textures that left him breathless.
His thumb brushed against the swollen head, sending sparks flying through his nervous system. He squeezed gently, coaxing out a bead of precum that glistened like dew on a spider's web. The salty sweetness filled his nostrils as he inhaled deeply, savoring the primal scent that was uniquely his own.
His cock responded eagerly to each pass, swelling further with each downward glide before releasing its pent-up tension with a soft hiss.
As he pumped himself faster, the friction generated by his hand created a symphony of sensations - velvety smooth skin giving way to ridged flesh, each stroke building upon the last to create an unstoppable momentum. Eddie's eyes rolled back in his head as he succumbed to the pleasure coursing through him.
His breath came in ragged gasps, each exhale punctuated by tiny tremors that ran from crown to base. Sweat beaded on his brow, mingling with precum as it dripped down onto his stomach like tears shed for lost innocence.
In the moments leading up to his orgasm, Eddie's world narrowed to a single point - the sensation of his cock throbbing in time with his heartbeat. The room receded further into darkness, leaving only this one moment, this one feeling that was both fleeting and eternal.
As Eddie's climax crested, his hand moved in frantic circles around his cock, milking every last drop of pleasure from the swollen flesh. The air seemed to vibrate with tension as he approached the precipice, his body coiled like a spring ready to unleash its pent-up energy.
And then it happened - a burst of white-hot semen that erupted from the tip of his dick like a geyser unleashed by some ancient geological force. The first jet shot across the room, splattering against the wall with a wet smack before dripping down onto the carpet like molten lava.
Eddie's eyes snapped open as he felt himself being emptied out, each pulse sending shockwaves through his entire body. His mouth hung agape as he watched in rapt fascination as stream after stream of cum arced through the air, painting an abstract masterpiece on the walls and ceiling.
The room seemed to spin around him, a kaleidoscope of color and sound as his orgasm raged on. His hand continued to pump himself, milking every last drop from the spent cock until it finally subsided into exhausted stillness.
As the final droplets fell away, Eddie lay there for a moment, his chest heaving with ragged breaths as he gazed up at the ceiling in stunned silence. The cum-stained walls seemed to loom over him like sentinels guarding some ancient secret, their sticky residue a testament to the primal power that had just been unleashed within him.
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cheesewritings · 2 days ago
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Eddie Munson sits at home on the couch with his prize next to him. He hears the familiar jingle of keys in the door and giggles to himself. “Hey babe I’m….is that the fucking baby Jesus?” “You said you wanted a baby and this is the best I could do on short notice”
Hopper shows up two hours later to collect the stolen baby Jesus from the town nativity scene.
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foxesofwonderland · 6 hours ago
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Spicy and Fluffy.
Casual
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Materlist
Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
Fuckers to Lovers? (Both Eddie and Reader are 18+)
Warnings: 18+ mdni, Lowkey Cocky Eddie (around the boys), Mixed Signals from Eddie, Eddie has commitment issues, Starts off right with some smut, mentions of drug use, Possessive Eddie!, Smut with plot (kinda), Smut: Oral (Fem Receiving), Fingering, Cum eating, Sex in Eddie's Van, PinV, Riding Eddie in the front seat of his Van, Slight Choking, Dominant Eddie, afab reader
Synopsis: High School is a weird time, especially senior year. Everyone is thinking about college, plans after they graduate, and who they’re going to Prom with. You, however, are always thinking about Eddie Munson and whatever it is you two are. Friends with benefits? Lovers? No strings attached fuckers? Eddie tells all his friends that you two are just “casual,” but, if it’s casual then why does your favorite bra live in his dresser? And, why is he bragging about hitting it to the Hellfire boys when you’re not around?
Based off of the song Casual by Chappell Roan. Also, uh, I don't know anything about campaigns or dnd, please don't come for me. Also this is my first Eddie fic so enjoy!
Word Count: 3.1k
-
Knee deep in the passenger seat and you're eating me out
Is it casual now?
Two weeks and your mom invites me to her house in Long Beach
Is it casual now?
I know what you tell your friends
It's casual, if it's casual now
Then baby get me off again
If it's casual, it's casual now
"Jesus, fuck, Eddie," you moaned, closing your eyes as your fingers tangled into his hair. He groaned, looking up at you through his lashes. He hummed against you, licking up your folds again as you tugged on his hair harder.
"God, princess, I adore the way you say my name," he mumbled, placing soft kisses against your clit. "It really turns me on," he added before he sucked on your clit gently.
You sighed, resting your head back against the cool passenger window of his van. He repositioned himself gently, hoisting both of your thighs over his shoulders as he moved his tongue up and down your folds. His tongue darted in and out of your core, causing a sharp moan to escape your mouth.
"Eds," you whined, squeezing your thighs against his head tightly. He moaned again, his fingers squeezing your thighs as he looked up at you, continuing to eat you out like you were his favorite meal.
His tongue moved in and out of your core, while his nose pressed against your clit, drawing you closer and closer to the edge.
"Eddie, fuck," you whined, grinding against his face. "I'm gonna cum," you said, pulling his hair tighter. His grip around your thighs tightened, signaling that he had heard you, but he didn't stop. If anything, he just kept going.
He wanted to get you off.
He always wanted to get you off.
After all you were his... girlfriend?
Eddie licked one last stripe up your folds before he went back to sucking on your clit. He moved his dominant hand from your thigh, his slender fingers moving your slick around at your core. He pushed his pointer and middle finger inside of you, pumping them in and out before curling them inside of you.
"Eds," you moaned, grinding against his fingers. "Fuck, please," you whined. He pulled his head away and rested it against your thigh. You looked down at him, the moonlight from outside the van illuminating his face as he looked back at you with his signature smirk.
"Cum for me, princess," he said, leaving wet, sloppy kisses against your thighs. "Let me see what I do to you," he added, kissing his way back to your clit. He left sloppy kisses over your clit and continued to finger fuck you, relishing in the feeling of you clenching around his fingers.
You whined again, your head hitting the window behind you as you came undone on his fingers. You moaned loudly, grinding against his fingers as you rode out your high.
Eddie smirked, removing his fingers from your core, licking your juices off of them before he moved his head back between your thighs. He licked you clean, groaning at the taste of you on his tongue. He left a few more kisses on your thighs before he kissed back up your body, leaving hasty kisses on your lips.
"You taste so fucking good, princess. And, you're all mine," he added, kissing your lips again. You sighed into the kiss, still feeling the effects from your previous orgasm. He kissed down your jaw and to the left side of your neck, sucking and nibbling at the sensitive skin there. A groan left your lips as you moved your hand to his head, running your fingers through his hair as he kept kissing and nipping at your neck.
Your other hand ran down his chest and stomach, stopping over his clothed cock. You palmed him slightly through his jeans, a loud moan erupting from his mouth in your left ear.
“Fuck, princess, please,” he begged, moving his hips to grind against your hand. “Need to be inside of you, preferably with you on top,” he added, leaving more kisses along your jaw line.
You whined at his begs, fumbling your hands to undo his belt. He pulled away from you, sitting back in the driver’s seat of his van. He pushed his seat back all the way and undid his belt, tugging his jeans and boxers down just enough for his cock to spring free, twitching painfully as it leaked precum.
He fumbled in the glove box, pulling out a condom. He opened it quickly, throwing the wrapper behind him before he grabbed your hands gently, pulling you towards him.
“Come here, beautiful,” he mumbled, allowing you to get comfortable. With your knees on both sides of his thighs, he sighed, pumping his cock a couple of times before he teased your core with it. You sighed, slowing sinking down onto him with a squeak. Once he was fully in you, he moved his hands to your hips, helping to guide you up and down.
“Fuck, Eddie, god, you’re so big,” you babbled, moving to kiss his lips.
“God, you’re boosting my ego again, princess,” he groaned, kissing your lips roughly as he continued to move you up and down on his cock. “And I love it,” he added, resting his head back against the headrest.
“Yeah?” You asked, breathlessly as you kept bouncing on top of him. “You it when I tell you that? How you’re so good with your hands, and your mouth, and your, fuck, and your cock,” you mumbled, leaning down to kiss his neck. You kissed up and down his neck, biting the skin softly.
“Jesus, fuck, you’re going to make me cum if you keep talking like that,” Eddie sighed, twitching inside of you slightly.
You hummed against his neck, biting the skin harder. “Mhm, you should. Cum for me,” you said, “let me see what I can do to you,” you added, mocking him form earlier.
He groaned, squeezing your hips as he thrusted up into you, meeting your movements. After a couple of good thrusts he moaned loudly, releasing into the condom.
“Fuck, princess, god,” he groaned riding out his high. He moved his hand down to where your bodies met and rubbed tight circles on your clit, causing a high pitched moan to escape your lips.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you moaned, feeling your orgasm hit for the second time. Your bounces became sloppy as you clenched around him and released around him for a second time. You sighed, resting your forehead on his shoulder as you sunk back onto him, enjoying the feeling of him being inside of you.
Eddie ran his fingers up your back softly, leaving a couple soft kisses on your temple. You looked over at the clock, “fuck,” you mumbled, moving off of Eddie slowly. “Shit, Eds, it’s 10,” you sighed, quickly moving to the passenger seat as you slid your panties and jeans back on. “I have to get home.”
“Relax,” he sighed, slowly removing the condom. “You’ve never been late with me before, princess.”
-
You took your normal seat at the Hellfire lunch table, squeezing between Jeff and Gareth. Gareth looked up at you and smiled as he sipped on his Dr. Pepper while Jeff nodded a greeting in your direction.
“No, Eddie, I don’t see how that’s right,” Dustin argued, looking at the character sheet he was working on. “This would totally work!”
“Wrong, child,” Eddie replied, leaning back in his seat at the table. “That’s literally so wrong that it’s comical how you can’t see why it wouldn’t work.” He added, glancing down at the character sheet that was resting on the lunch table. "What do you think, hm?" Eddie asked, directing his attention towards you as you pushed the crappy cafeteria peas around on your lunch tray.
You looked up from your lunch tray, confused. "About?" You asked, searching for more context about the argument between the senior and freshman.
"Eddie thinks my new character design would totally flop in the next campaign," Dustin said, handing you the sheet of paper.
"That's because he's right," Mike piped up from beside he curly haired freshman.
"Mike, I swear to god," Dustin mumbled. "You helped me make this!" Dustin argued, turning to face Mike.
While the two freshmen kept arguing back and forth across the table from you, you glanced at the character sheet in greater detail. You ran your fingers through your hair, pulling it from the left side of your neck to the right side of your neck.
Jeff and Gareth moved closer to you, examining the paper in your hands. As you moved your hair to the opposite side of your neck, Gareth glanced up and caught sight of the three purple marks on the left side your neck. He stopped and slowly looked back at Eddie, who was wearing a smirk as his eyes also caught sight of the three purple marks.
The three hickies, to be specific.
The same three hickies that Eddie had left on your neck the night before. Gareth rolled his eyes at Eddie and looked back at the sheet, leaning closer to you as he examined it.
“You really think this will work, Dustin?” Jeff asked, looking up at the freshmen across the table from you.
“Yeah, man, I’m not so sure,” Gareth added, taking the paper from your hands gently.
You shrugged, peering over Gareth’s shoulder. “I think he has a really good base, he just needs to work on it slightly and tweak it.” You replied, looking up at Dustin. “Don’t let Eddie scare you, he just wants to get in your head."
Dustin looked up at you, also catching sight of the hickies on your neck. "You, uh, you really think so?" He asked, trying not to make it obvious that he was staring at your neck.
“Yeah, a couple tweaks here and there and you’ll be fine,” you nodded, reassuring him and you went back to your food.
All the boys at the table that had noticed the marks on your neck made eye contact with Eddie, who proceeded to sit there with this dumb smirk on his face.
A smirk that read: Yeah, I made those. Are you jealous?
You looked down at your watch and sighed, “shit, I have to go. I have to actually pretend I care about my school work.” You said, standing up from your seat. “Bye, guys. Dustin, I’ll try to help you with that character sheet later if you want,” you nodded before you grabbed your bag and lunch tray and were off in the direction of the school library.
Soon after you excused yourself from the table, Mike and Dustin followed; they both had excuses about needing to get to their next class early.
After most people had left, Gareth looked at Eddie and raised an eyebrow. “So, like, are you dating yet or what’s the deal here?”
“Yeah, how much longer do we just have to pretend that we know you’re fucking but have to hide it?” Jeff added.
“Relax. It’s just casual,” Eddie replied, shrugging as he munched on some pretzels from his lunch.
“Right,” Gareth nodded, looking in the direction you went. “Those were.. new, weren’t they?” He asked, redirecting his attention to Eddie.
“Hell yeah, man, last night.” Eddie bragged. “We drove to Lover’s Lake and had some fun.”
Gareth and Jeff rolled their eyes, exchanging a look with each other.
“Just causal?” Jeff asked, looking at Eddie.
“Yeah, strictly causal,” he replied, nodding with a smirk.
“Damn,” Gareth said, “you better hope no one asks her on a date, then.”
-
You knocked on the door of Eddie’s trailer, waiting for him to answer. When he finally answered the door he looked up at you and smirked, “well, hello there, wasn’t expecting you to come over tonight,” he said, leaning against the door with a smirk. "Not that I'm complaining at all."
“Hey, Eds,” you smiled, looking at him. “Can I come in? I think I left my bra here the last time we uh, smoked,” you said, lying.
“Oh, but of course, princess,” he said, stepping to the side. He allowed you in and you walked into his room, going towards his dresser.
He followed after you, watching as you moved around his room. “What do you need this bra for? I was enjoying having it in my collection,” he smirked, walking towards you.
You hummed, picking it up. “It’s my favorite and I have a date tonight,” you said, shrugging. Eddie stopped behind you, looking at you.
“A date?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. “With who?” He asked, getting defensive. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked at you, demanding an answer.
“Andy,” you replied. “I needed my favorite push up bra to help show off the goods. Thanks!” You said, walking past him. He grabbed your arm and stopped you, pulling you back towards him gently.
“With Andy? But, what about us?” He asked, looking at you.
You shrugged, “we’re causal,” you said, the word coming off as bitter. “I mean, that’s what you’re telling all the guys, right? So, I might as well try to find a guy that wants commitment and wants to be exclusive.”
He stopped, looking at you. “Come on, princess, that doesn’t mean you have to go on a date with Andy,” he argued, the grip on your arm tightening.
“You’re right,” you said, “but, maybe I want something that’s more than just casual.” You added, looking up at Eddie. “Maybe I want to feel like I’m a person instead of a fuck toy.” You took a step away from him and began to walk back towards the front door. “Clearly, we don’t see this, whatever it is, going the same place… so why continue to do this?” You asked, looking up at Eddie.
"Why not continue to do it?" He asked, stepping towards you again as he towered over you.
You looked up at him and shrugged, "I want a boyfriend, not a fuck buddy. I want commitment. And, it seems like you don't care about me," you replied.
"You don't seem to complain about commitment when I'm getting you off," Eddie smirked, looking at you. "Besides, you're mine, you can't just go off to another guy."
"I'm yours?" You asked, raising an eyebrow. "I don't recall ever being asked to be yours." You shrugged.
Eddie groaned, wrapping his arms around your waist as he pulled you flush to his body. "I didn't have to ask," he growled, leaning in closer to you. "You're mine," he repeated, kissing your lips roughly.
You groaned into the kiss, kissing him back as you wrapped your arms around his neck, dropping the bra to the ground. He pushed you down on the bed, pinning you down without breaking the kiss. He pulled away from the kiss and kissed up and down you're neck.
"You're mine, all of you. You belong to me." He groaned, squeezing your ass as he continued to kiss up and down your neck. "Now, say it," he mumbled, grinding his hips into yours.
"I'm yours," you mumbled, groaning at the feeling of his hips against yours. You closed your eyes gently and bucked your hips up against his.
"Louder," he said, pulling away from your neck. He wrapped his hand around your neck gently, forcing you to look at him. "Say it louder." He growled.
You opened your eyes, looking up at him, "I'm yours," you replied, struggling to catch your breath as he squeezed his hand around your neck a bit harder, the cool rings on his fingers pressing against the sensitive skin of your neck. "I'm yours," you breathed out louder.
"Good girl," he said, releasing his grip around your neck. "Now, shut up, stop talking back to me and let me make you feel good, princess," he said, yanking your pants and panties down.
You sighed, laying back on the bed as Eddie threw your pants and panties back behind him. He hoisted your thighs up over his shoulders and licked up and down your folds, causing a small moan to escape your lips.
“You’re mine,” he said, licking up and down your folds again. He squeezed your thighs gently, looking up at you as he placed soft kisses against your clit.
“I’m the only one that is allowed to do this, to have you, to make you feel good,” he said between kisses against your clit. "I'm the only one that gets to taste you," he added, sucking on your clit roughly.
You groaned, looking down at him as you moved your hand to his hair, pushing his head down. You tugged on his shaggy hair, moving your hips against his face.
He groaned against you, looking up at you as he moved his tongue to your core, thrusting it in and out of you. He caught your eyes, pulling you closer to him, eating you desperately.
Eddie's fingers dug into the plush skin of your thighs, creating subtle bruises from his nails and the rings that were scattered across his digits. You moaned at the feeling, throwing your head back against the pillow as you continued to grind against his face.
"Fuck, Eddie," you sighed, moaning so loud you swore the neighbors in his trailer park heard. And if they did? Well, he didn't care. He wanted people to know you were his. "God, fuck, I'm yours," you moaned out. "I'm yours and you're mine. No one else is allowed to do this. Allowed to have me. Allowed to make me feel so good. No one, fuck, no one else can taste me," you babbled on, feeling your high begin to build. "Only you, only your tongue, only your fingers, only your cock," you continued, moaning loudly as you clenched around nothing, releasing on his tongue and face.
Eddie groaned at your words, licking your juices up as he looked up at you. Once he was finished, he left kisses on your thighs, resting his head on your lower stomach.
"Fine, okay." He said softly, looking up at you. "Truth is, I'm terrified of commitment, but, I also don't want to lose you. I do care about you, and I do want to be with you. So, I guess, will you... be my girlfriend?" He asked, you looked down at him and smiled softly, running your fingers through his hair softly.
"Yeah," you said softly, smiling at him as you pulled him up to kiss his face. You left a soft kiss on his lips. "I'll be your girlfriend."
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t-folklore13 · 3 days ago
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Sleep, I’m not going anywhere - Eddie Munson
*
18+ MDNI
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Summary: you get sick and your bestfriend Eddie helps you get better
Warnings: vomiting, mild cussing
Not proof read wrote this at 2:00am
Best friends to lovers
I wake up and immediately feel like shit. My body aches, head hurts, nose is absolutely stuffed and runny which makes no sense. I roll over and see 6:30 flash across my alarm clock. I have time to get ready and its hellfire tonight anyways so might as well tough it out through the day.
I slowly get up and move like a zombie to get ready. I put my hair in a bun and start really getting ready, As I’m picking out pants to wear with the “Mandatory attire’ as Eddie calls it i can hear him down the road
How do I know it’s him? No one else is gonna listen to slayer at the ass crack of dawn in the middle of winter. He turns the radio down and I can hear the door bell. The muffled voice of my mom is greeting Eddie and he’s being as charming as always when the door flys open, donut in hand one for me and one for him. “hey I got this for you from the kitchen… are you okay?” I take the food out of of his hand and smile “I’m fine but we should get going dont wanna ruin your perfect attendance”
He fake smiles and flips me off and I know it might be a good day, oh how wrong was I.
When we get to the front of the school I rush inside and Eddie looks confused running after me. I run into the girls bathroom and start throwing up what little food I had in my system. I hear a knock on the stall and turn around “Eddie your not supposed be in here” someone laughs and I open the stall confused “oh hey robin sorry i thought you were eddie’
“It’s okay he actually sent me in here to check on you though he said he “cannot pass the gates of women privacy” or whatever so he found me and sent me in” I smile weakly and she hands me water “thanks” I drink half of it and sigh ‘is he still out there?” She nods and shuffles around in her bag giving me gum “that should make you feel better for now do you want to go to the nurse?”
“No I have a test in O’Donnell and hellfire tonight I can manage” she hugs me and the bell rings “shoot I gotta go but promise you’ll at least get medicine”
“yeah I can do that” the late bell rings and we walk out of bathroom “hey are you okay? You totally scared me” I smile and nod “Yeah I’m fine but we gotta go we have a test remember?” He groans loudly and I laugh. We both walk to class and I try to keep my happy front up
*
Lunch finally rolls around and I just want to try to eat something. I feel someone grab my hand and instantly know it’s Eddie, we walk in silence till we enter the cafeteria “hey you sit down I’ll get you something
“What about you” I look up at him and he shrugs “I’ll just steal from mike and Dustin I’m sure whatever their moms packed is enough”. I smile and walk over to the table finding somewhere to sit, placing my head on it I don’t know how much time passes but I suddenly feel an arm around me then Gareth and Jeff arguing about who can sit where Eddie sits. “here you go my fine lady lunch is served and I stole cranberry juice for you from wheeler”
I take the food and start eating when I get super tired and just lean on eddies chest after a debate on what Eddie had planned for the campaign I hear “hey dude she’s asleep” I want to open my eyes and show them I’m in fact not asleep but cannot find the energy to do so when i feel Eddie shaking my shoulder then feel my head “Oh shit she’s burning up” I feel a cold sensation on the back of my neck and smile snuggling into Eddie further. “Hey sweetheart wake up we’re going to the office”
“What for?” he lifts me up and we start walking “I’m taking you home” I want to argue but I can’t I’m too tired and my bed doesn’t sound like a bad idea right now “hey we are gonna leave she isn’t feeling well” The office lady looks at me holding onto Eddie then him “she looks sick and will be excused but you will not’ I hear him scoff and scribble on some paper “I’m over eighteen I can do whatever I damn please and if I wanna take care of my girl I will, so we’re leaving” I must really be sick because I just hallucinated Eddie calling me his girl
Eddie opens the door and the air feels great against my hot skin. I try to talk but mumble instead and Eddie just picks me up “We’re almost there sweetheart okay hold tight the office called your mom and said I’m with you its okay” I hear the door open and he places me into the van I fully fall asleep and the last thing I feel is Eddie rubbing my leg.
I start to wake up and look around but it’s really dark in my room, just then Eddie walks in with soup, medicine, and more blankets “hey I didn’t know if you had a migraine so I kept it dark but you need to eat so I made you soup” I look at him while he sets everything down and smile “thank you Ed’s how long have I been out?”
“Only an hour but your mom called and said she’s stuck in Illinois because of weather so I’m staying here and taking care of you” I partly take in the information and reach for the soup but stop and lay back down “you need help sweetheart?” I I mumble and he starts to hand feed me the soup
My throat suddenly burns and I start having a coughing fit, Eddie rubs my back and holds my hair “hey you wanna lay back down?” I take a deep breath and cough again “yes” as I lay down I hear him getting up and shuffling away, so I grab his arm and grumble “no eds stay please” he sighs and crawls over me, getting under the blankets and wrapping his arms around me
“Sleep, I’m not going anywhere”
I smile and he rubs my stomach slowly pulling me back to slumber
~
When I wake back up again for the second time Eddie isn’t here and I feel like I got ten times worse “Eddie?” It comes out weak and horse, I feel like crying did he leave? Did he get bored? I feel a knot in my throat when the door opens “oh hey your awake are you okay sweetheart your eyes are watering” I smile and grab onto his arm “I’m okay now”
As soon as I say that I feel bile build up and rush past Eddie to the bathroom, he runs behind me and hold my hair back after throwing up the only food I ate today and dry heaving for five minutes it finally stops “Ed’s it hurts”
“I know it does baby do you want to take a bath relax your muscles a bit?” I nod and he starts running the water and I hand him the bubbles, when the bath is filled he grabs my bath towel and a new shirt “hey sweetheart are you okay from here?” I nod and when he’s about to walk away I grab him “um before I get in the bath could you stay by the door and when I say it’s okay could you come back in I don’t wanna be alone”
His neck flushes pink and he nods “um yeah when your decent just yell my name” I undress and look at the bun Eddie put in my hair smiling, I ease myself into the bath and sigh at how good it feels making sure there’s enough bubbles to cover me “Eddie? You can come it now” the door opens and he has his hand over his eyes “are you sure?” I laugh and shake my head
“Yes you goon now tell me about the upcoming campaign” while hearing his soothing voice as well as his imaginative story telling I start to feel sleepy everything is so nice right now “hey your falling asleep on me do you wanna lay down?” I nod and feel super weak “could you just turn around while I get situated”
“Of course” I dry off and put my clothes on then tap his shoulder “I feel weak could you help me to the bed” he picks me up effortlessly and starts waking to my room “are you getting worse? Do you need more medicine or a doctor” I shake my head and he sets me down “I just need you” he smiles and lays down next to me
“I think that’s the medicine talking” in my hazy state my mouth works faster then my common sense “no it’s me talking duh because I’m so in love with you and I feel safe around you” a faint kiss on my forehead is the last thing I hear as I again fall asleep
“I love you too baby”
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archivequinn · 2 days ago
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MADNESS (Eddie Munson x American Horror Story: Asylum)
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chapter one | chapter two | chapter three | chapter four
Summary: Three years after his disappearance, Eddie Munson is arrested for the murders of Chrissy Cunningham, Fred Benson, Patrick McKinney and others, but the truth is very different. Unable to convince anyone that Vecna exists and that he is innocent, he is locked up in an asylum. But the only way out is to prove to his psychiatrist that he is not insane. If he fails to convince the psychiatrist, he will be executed as a murderer. He must hurry to do so, because Vecna has returned to finish the bloody unfinished business and take revenge.
As Eddie fights for his life, how far can his psyhiatrist go to save him when she finds out he is innocent? Perhaps the only reason his psychiatrist wants to save him is not because of Eddie's innocence, but because they have developed feelings for each other over time. In the midst of all this confusion, a series of secret experiments on patients in the mental hospital and a series of dark secrets make everything more difficult.
Warnings: Blood and Injury, Mentions of execution, Execution, Death, Mental Health Issues, Asylum, Mental Hospital, Horror, Psychological Horror, Survival Horror, Thriller, Claustrophobia, Prison, Doctor/Patient, Serial Killers, Hospitals, Pain, Depression, Violence, Blood and Violence, Suicidal Thoughts, death of a family member, Nudity, Smut, Sex, Slow Burn, Experiments, Explicit Sexual Content, TraumaPost-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Disorders, Smoking.
Before you read:)
This fan fiction is inspired by American Horror Story: Asylum. It contains a lot of horror and thriller content. Since the story takes place in a mental hospital, there may be various triggers. Please check the tags first as there is a lot of violence, sexuality and depression contents. This story is for adults, so close the page if you are a minor.
Please let me know if there are any tags I forgot to add. ao3 link
John and Violet were sitting across from each other in the cafeteria. Violet stirred her tasteless food with a spoon, her eyes darting to the clock on the wall. She was waiting for the evening shift to begin; it was twenty minutes to five. She was waiting for Brendon's shift to start so she could find out how and where Eddie was.
John noticed the worry on Violet’s face and spoke up. "So, this Max Mayfield you’re talking about, she’s the one who reported Eddie, right?"
Violet sighed. "She did and didn’t. They suspect Vecna used her as a puppet," she said.
Amid the chaos of the last few days, Violet had told John everything: the information in Eddie’s file, what Steve and the others had said… It wasn’t easy to process, but John was experienced because he used to be a cop and quickly grasped the situation.
"Which means the only people who can get you out of here are Steve and the others," John said. "Do they even know Max is here?"
Violet shrugged. "I don’t know," she said thoughtfully. "But why would they bring her to the same mental hospital as the guy who ‘almost killed’ her and ‘put her in a coma’?" She made air quotes, sarcastically emphasizing the points Eddie was accused of.
John smirked slightly. "We need to find a way to reach that Steve guy," he said.
Violet nodded in agreement. "How did Eddie reach him? Could we do it the same way?"
John shook his head negatively. "We snuck into the manager’s office and made a call. It was pure luck. And we got caught that time too—you saw what they did to Eddie. We can’t take that risk again," he said.
"Can’t Brendon make a call?" Violet asked.
John took a deep breath and shrugged. "Since we escaped, they’ve tightened security. They even look at the staff’s calls. So, that’s not really an option," he said.
Just then, the cafeteria door opened, and Brendon entered, carrying a metal tray with bandages, scissors, and other medical supplies. Violet stood up excitedly. Brendon approached and began to gently remove the bandage from her head.
"Eddie’s in a cell," Brendon said in a low voice. "He’s okay but very worried about you."
Hearing this, Violet’s anxiety eased a little, but she still wanted to see Eddie. "Can I see him? Will you take me to him?" she asked.
Brendon shook his head. "You’re no longer a doctor here, Violet. To get in there, you’d have to get yourself into trouble or something. And even then, I doubt they’d let you two be in the same cell," he said.
John raised both hands in mock surrender, letting out a small laugh. "Looks like it’s up to me again," he said in a joking tone.
Violet was about to give him a puzzled look when she noticed Dr Oliver and Wilson coming through the door. Oliver was feverishly explaining something to the manager. Violet turned her attention to them to listen to their conversation.
Oliver's voice was serious. “Mr. Wilson, the condition of these patients is truly appalling. They need care. How do you expect them to get better when they live in zero hygiene and cannot feel comfortable?”
Wilson responded with a nonchalant attitude “I already have too few staff and too many patients. As if that wasn't enough, you came all the way from Michigan. Be grateful if you can find a seat for yourself. Let me run my hospital and you go about your business.’’
Violet couldn’t help but smile inwardly at the exchange. Oliver’s naive determination felt familiar to her. It was like experiencing déjà vu. However, she knew it wouldn’t take long for him to learn how terrible this place truly was.
John winked at her and leaned slightly closer, whispering, "Wilson’s here. It’s time."
John’s angry outburst had caught the attention of the other patients in the cafeteria. Pointing his index finger at Violet in a threatening manner, his voice grew louder.
"Are you calling me an arsonist?!" he shouted. The wave of anger in John’s voice echoed in the room as Brendon glanced at Violet and signaled her to get up. Violet hesitated for only a moment before rising to her feet. It didn’t take her long to get into character and step toward John.
"Aren’t you? We’re back here because of you, you idiot! If you had driven properly, we’d be free now!" Violet retorted, unable to hold back her anger. "Where’d you get your license? A butcher shop? Oh wait, probably from a stove maker, since you’re so good with fire." She mimicked a lighter with her hands, mocking him.
John, furious at Violet’s sarcastic remarks, stormed toward her, closing the gap between them. Now, they were standing almost nose to nose. "At least I’m not stuck as a patient in the hospital I came to as a doctor, you lunatic!" he yelled, then suddenly leaned closer to her face and said in a low tone, "Hit me." He was trying to turn the situation to his advantage while everyone was watching.
Violet hesitated, staring at him as if she hadn’t fully understood his words. She noticed Wilson and Dr. Oliver watching the commotion from the other side of the cafeteria. Responding to John’s demand, she clenched her fist and delivered a sharp punch. At that moment, Brendon stepped in to separate them, but John wasn’t idle either. He threw kicks at Violet, intentionally missing. Violet struck a bit harder, ensuring it looked realistic.
Dr Oliver panicked and rushed over. "Please calm down; we can resolve this through conversation," he pleaded, trying to ease the tension. 
But Wilson had run out of patience. Pointing at Violet and John, he barked at Brendon, "Take them to the cells in the basement so they can cool off."
Violet barely restrained herself from smiling. Internally, she was quite pleased for having roughed up John a bit. Brendon nodded like a soldier receiving orders and grabbed both of them by the collars, escorting them out of the cafeteria. Violet could hear Oliver protesting behind Wilson, complaining about the ’’this method of punishment is barbaric and contrary to human rights’’ but she only rolled her eyes.
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They began walking toward an unknown part of the hospital. The stairs seemed endless; Violet couldn’t help but think, "We’re descending all the way to hell." At last, at the bottom of the stairs, Brendon released their collars. Violet and John walked ahead now, with Brendon quietly accompanying them.
John turned to Violet with a faint smirk. "For someone so small, you sure hit hard," he said.
Violet laughed. "And for someone with all those muscles, you scream like a little girl," she shot back. John rolled his eyes but allowed a small smile to escape.
"My whole body hurts from the crash," John added. "I’ll get my rematch when I’m in better shape."
Brendon chuckled at their exchange. "You were like this when we were kids too. Always had an excuse when you lost," he said.
Violet looked at Brendon in surprise. "When you were kids? How long have you been police partners anyway?" she asked. John gave her the same surprised look.
"Partners?" he said, pursing his lips. "We’re brothers."
Violet took a step back in astonishment, studying them both carefully. "But I saw... both of you in the news article. In police uniforms," she said.
Brendon smiled. "Can’t brothers do the same job?" he replied. Violet suddenly felt like everything clicked into place. Brendon’s willingness to take such great risks made sense now; he wasn’t just here for a friend—he was here to save his brother.
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Brendon stopped in front of a heavy iron door. "We’re here," he announced. Violet now focused on the scene before her. The corridor was lined with dark, narrow cells, each resembling a prison block. Behind the bars, there was only a single, uncomfortable-looking bed in each cell. The stench was so overpowering that Violet almost longed for the smell of the cafeteria upstairs.
From one of the cells, there was a stir. Violet spotted a familiar face and rushed to the bars. It was Eddie. Violet reached her hands through the bars, and Eddie’s hands clasped around hers. He had a few scratches on his face but seemed to have fared relatively well after the crash.
Brendon opened a cell for Violet and guided her inside. John was placed in the cell opposite hers. "You have a therapy session in an hour," Brendon said, pointing at Violet.
"Who’s my doctor?" she asked with a frown.
"Oliver Owsen," Brendon replied.
Violet thought for a moment and added, "Tell him to come and get me from here. I want him to see what this place is like."
Brendon nodded. As he moved to leave, Violet called out once more, "Brendon, is there a chance I could change my cellmate?"
"I’ll see what I can do," Brendon said, disappearing quickly down the corridor.
The echo of Brendon's retreating footsteps faded into the cold corridor walls. When Violet turned around, she noticed the familiar goofy grin on Eddie's face. Their hands met again through the bars, Eddie's warm palms grounding Violet's scattered emotions.
Eddie asked curiously, "How did you end up here?"
The answer came from John in the next cell. Waving his finger with a mildly warning tone, he said, "Careful with this girl, man. If you hurt her, she might kick you so hard you'll never have kids."
Eddie laughed at the comment, his grin widening. Reaching through the bars, he gently stroked Violet's hair, then pulled her closer, inhaling the scent of her hair. His lips still nestled there, he spoke teasingly, "What’s this about a cellmate situation? What did I miss now? This damned hospital can’t go a day without drama."
Violet responded with a laugh, collapsing onto the so-called "bed," an uncomfortable excuse for furniture. Eddie, meanwhile, sat on the floor of his cell, but his hand never left Violet's through the bars.
"They’ve evacuated the Michigan hospital here," Violet explained, detailing the situation. "New patients and staff have arrived. Temporarily, at least."
Eddie winked and muttered with a mischievous grin, "Here’s hoping I get a cute chick as a cellmate."
Violet swatted his hand playfully, then turned curiously to John. "We saw Eddie’s name there. We didn’t even check the one next to it. Got so caught up in my mess, we forgot."
John frowned slightly, puzzled. "Fred something. I don’t remember the last name."
Eddie nudged Violet's hand. "Your mess? What’s happened to you?"
This was the hardest part for Violet. Eddie was unaware of what Steve and the others had told her. He didn’t know that Max had woken up and reported him to the police. Violet hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath and began to speak.
"Eddie, listen carefully to what I’m about to say. You know how I told you I knew you were innocent..." Violet’s voice wavered slightly. Eddie’s brown eyes looked at her with patience and curiosity. Finally, she admitted, "Max woke up."
Eddie’s eyes lit up with excitement. "Are you serious? That’s amazing news!"
Violet glanced at John for help, but he was nervously chewing his nails. Sighing, she turned back to Eddie.
The expression on his face shifted, sensing something was wrong. Violet closed her eyes and summoned her courage to reveal the truth she had been hiding.
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"...And now I don’t know why she’s here, but she’s going to be staying in my room."
Those words made Eddie grip her hand tighter. His voice trembled, and his eyes glistened with unshed tears. "Violet... you can’t stay with her... I won’t let you..."
Violet averted her gaze from Eddie's misty eyes. But John’s muffled voice startled her. Pressing his hands and head against the bars, John muttered, "What do we even have left at this point?"
A gloomy silence filled around. Violet responded quietly, "We stole the file that proved what Dr. Arthur did, but they got it back. They’ve probably destroyed it by now."
Eddie let out a heavy sigh, adding, "The only person who could prove my innocence woke up, and now she’s Vecna’s puppet. I’ve got a one-way ticket to the electric chair."
John barked out a harsh laugh. "And anyone who could help us escape thinks we’re dead. We can’t make calls, and we can’t ask Brendon to because we’re being listened to."
In the midst of this dark atmosphere, an idea sparked in Violet’s mind. A smile crept across her lips. "If we can’t talk... we’ll write."
Eddie and John looked at each other, then at Violet. But just as the idea began to take shape, the sound of approaching footsteps made Violet motion for them to be silent. The newcomers were Brendon and Oliver. The sight of the prison-like cells seemed to horrify Oliver, who looked visibly shaken.
Violet thought mockingly, You think it’s bad? You should see WARD C, doctor.
Oliver introduced himself nervously, his voice trembling. ''Violet George, I’m your doctor, Oliver Owsen."
Oliver’s extended hand reached through the bars to shake Violet’s. However, his eyes were carefully examining Eddie from head to toe. Eddie, silent behind the bars, observed Oliver while Violet didn’t let go of Eddie’s hand.
Oliver, “I’m here to get you out of here.”
Violet, “I’ll only leave if my friends come with me.”
Oliver glanced first at Eddie, then at John. His expression revealed that he understood how difficult Violet’s demand was.
Oliver “I’m afraid your friends are not my patients. It wouldn’t be appropriate for me to do that.”
Violet shrugged, responding with a nonchalant tone, “Then I’m not going.”
A hint of embarrassment spread across Oliver’s face. He looked like someone trying to do his job but caught in the middle of a chaotic situation. Violet didn’t doubt Oliver’s sincerity; however, she knew he wouldn’t be able to see the bigger picture of what was happening within this system. She could explain everything to him right now, but the risk was too great. She decided to start her plan from a simpler angle.
Violet nodded toward Eddie. “You see that man standing there, right?”
Oliver nodded affirmatively.
Violet, “You’ve heard about the murders in Hawkins, haven’t you? Well, he’s the one responsible for them.”
A noticeable fear flickered in Oliver’s eyes. Eddie, seated on his bed with his head in his hands, seemed oblivious to what Violet was saying.
Violet “Now, do you know who my roommate is?” whispered.
This time, Oliver shook his head no.
“It’s Max Mayfield, the girl he almost killed. Now think about it: Does this hospital really care about its rules? I think you need to transfer this patient immediately. Otherwise, Eddie Munson might finish what he started and kill Max. And wouldn’t that also put my life in danger? After all, I’m sharing a room with Max. And you’re my doctor. You’re responsible for me.”
The sound of Oliver swallowing filled the corridor. Behind them, John silently made a gesture of awe, as if to say, Wow. He hadn’t expected Violet to come up with such a plan.
Eddie, his face expressionless, stepped toward the bars. Even though Oliver was outside, he instinctively took a step back. Eddie began speaking in a mocking tone, “If I see that redhead again, tell her I’ll rip her head off this time. I’ve got one more sacrifice to offer the Devil.”
Oliver swallowed again. Then, turning to Brendon, he motioned with his head to unlock the doors. As Brendon unlocked Violet’s cell, he gave her a look of admiration mixed with astonishment.
Violet struggled to hold back her laughter. Madness had its charm sometimes. Whatever you did, no one questioned you. After all, you were insane.
When they emerged from the basement cells and reached the upper floors, Violet took a deep breath. Eddie approached her quietly from behind and whispered in her ear, “I’ll be waiting for you in the common room.”
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Violet left the common room, smiling, to follow Oliver. She didn’t know much about this new doctor, but that didn’t matter—for now, all she needed was the pen she had to get from Oliver. When they entered his office, she slumped into a chair, crossing her arms over her stomach and one leg over the other. She planned to leave after answering the routine questions.
Oliver sat at his desk, reviewing a file. His brows were furrowed, as if he were puzzled. After glancing at Violet a few times, he finally asked, “Do you know what day it is today, Mrs George?”
“You can call me Violet,” she replied with a faint smile. “It’s Wednesday.”
Oliver nodded, smiling. “Alright, Violet. Do you know why you’re here?”
Violet tried not to roll her eyes at the routine question. She was here because the crimes pinned on Eddie and the creature Vecna chasing her had led to this point. Of course, she couldn’t explain everything, but she could have a bit of fun.
“The creature Vecna, who made sure all the crimes were pinned on Eddie, started chasing me. So, I was escaping from the hospital to get away from it. Oh, and at the same time, I was going to expose the aliens from the experiments that asshole Dr Arthur conducted on people to the entire world.”
The look of shock on Oliver’s face was almost comical. He glanced back at the file and scribbled something with his pen.
“Given your scores and professional background, I find it very surprising you’re saying such things,” he said in a serious tone. “I thought you might be here because of a misunderstanding. Are you serious?”
Violet answered with a laugh. “Of course I’m not serious.” The relief on Oliver’s face was fleeting.
Violet stifled her laughter as she continued. “I mean, I admit I exaggerated with the aliens. Zombies would’ve been more accurate.”
Oliver froze for a moment before slowly tucking his pen into the outer breast pocket of his doctor’s coat. “I think I’ve tired you enough for today... I have other patients to see,” he said, closing the file. His voice carried a hint of disappointment; his inexperience was obvious.
Violet stood up and was about to leave when a nurse entered the room. “Mr. Owsen, your next patient, Fred Kirk, is waiting at the door.”
Fred Kirk... That name sounded familiar to her. Violet’s mind worked quickly. She took a few steps closer to Oliver and suddenly asked, “Can I give you a hug? Thank you for listening to me.”
Oliver stared at her, unsure of what to say, and Violet hugged him tightly, swiftly snatching the pen with a quick movement of her hand. Then she left the room.
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She returned to the common room at a brisk pace. John and Eddie were chatting on the couches. Violet quickly jumped between them. Eddie turned to her and asked curiously.
“Hey, what was the plan? How are we going to reach Steve?”
“If we can’t call him, we’ll write. We’ll send him a letter. Brendon can deliver it, right?” Violet said, determination shining in her eyes.
John nodded in agreement. “But how are we supposed to write? In case you haven’t noticed, even the forks and knives are plastic. You can’t find anything that could be used as a weapon. Not even a pen.”
Violet pulled the pen from her pocket and smiled triumphantly. Eddie looked at her in awe and asked, “Where did you find that?”
Shrugging, Violet replied with a sly expression, “I guess I had to suck up to my doctor a little.”
John raised the question, “What about paper?” 
Eddie laughed and said, “We can write on toilet paper.” Just then, John pulled out a napkin from his pocket and held it out. Violet and Eddie stared at him blankly.
“What? My nose runs. I carry tissues,” John said defensively.
Eddie squinted at him mischievously. “I hope it’s just for your nose,” he said.
Violet rolled her eyes. “Come on, guys, we need to figure out what to write.”
John suggested the simplest message, as if he’d come up with something groundbreaking, “We’re not dead, we’re alive, get us out of here.”
Eddie shook his head, lightly hitting John on the head. “Why don’t we include Arthur’s entire plan too, while we’re at it? Are you crazy? How did you ever work as a cop? What if they read the letter? If they catch us, it’ll be at least three hundred volts for us this time.”
Eddie took the pen and napkin and started writing something. Then he handed it over with a grin. Violet read it aloud curiously, “The Shire is burning, Mordor is burning. But a hobbit never gives up.”
John turned to Eddie with a serious expression. “Mine made more sense. What is this supposed to mean?”
Eddie just rolled his eyes. “You just give it to Brendon, and he’ll send it to Dustin Henderson. That kid’s a genius. He’ll know it’s from me.”
As John tucked the letter into his pocket, Violet’s attention shifted to the new patients in the common room. She hadn’t seen Max yet. Doctor Oliver was now speaking with his new patient. Violet whispered, “Why does the name Fred Kirk sound so familiar?”
John had no hesitation explaining. “Fred Kirk? You mean the Brooklyn Axeman?”
Violet turned to him in fear. “What?”
John shrugged. “It was one of the cases I worked on before they locked me up here. The guy’s a serial killer. He murders his victims with an ax. Last I heard, he was caught and institutionalized. Why do you ask? You probably saw it on the news. It was a big deal.”
Violet pointed to the blond man and asked, nearly trembling, “Please tell me that’s not him.”
John and Eddie both looked in the direction she indicated. John tilted his head and calmly said, “Alright... I won’t tell you.” 
Eddie sighed and added, “Just what we needed, a serial killer. Fantastic.”
Violet took a deep breath and voiced an even darker realization, “Eddie, I’m not sure but I think he’s going to be your cellmate.”
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Violet entered the common room in the morning, and Eddie noticed her immediately. He quickly walked over to her and hugged her tightly. “Are you okay?” he asked, looking into her eyes with concern. Violet nodded in affirmation, then answered in a weary voice, “Are you okay?”
Eddie shrugged. “My roommate broke someone’s nose on the first day, so he’ll be stuck in a cell for a few days. So yeah, I was alone yesterday. What about you? Did you see Max?”
Violet shook her head. “No, I was alone too,” she said.
When Violet noticed John smoking a cigarette on the couch behind Eddie, she frowned. “Where did he even get that cigarette?” she asked. Eddie rolled his eyes and gave her a look that said, Don’t even ask.
“Brendon came by before you arrived,” Eddie said, changing the subject. “He sent the letter yesterday by the fastest mail service. It probably reached them last night.”
“What letter?” a voice asked suddenly, making them both turn in the same direction at the same time.
Hearing a shaky, hurt voice, they both froze for a moment. A red-haired girl with tear-filled eyes and trembling hands was looking at them, embarrassed but scared. Violet guessed she couldn’t be more than 18 or 19 years old. The shock on Eddie’s face was unmistakable. “Max?” Eddie said, his voice filled with uncertainty. Max immediately ran toward him, throwing her arms around him and sobbing uncontrollably.
Eddie stood still for a few seconds, then finally hugged her back. Violet watched them in astonishment. Eddie pulled away slightly, holding Max by her shoulders, and bent down so that their faces were level. “Is it really you?” he asked. Max nodded while wiping her tears.
“When I woke up here, I opened my eyes. I don’t know what’s going on. What are you doing here? What am I doing here? Are we... dead?” Max asked, her voice trembling. Eddie glanced at Violet; they were both thinking the same thing. Could Vecna have used Max to lure them here and then disappeared? Or was this some sort of trap? They had to tread carefully until they figured it out.
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Max turned to Eddie and asked, “Why are they still keeping you here? Why am I here? If I’ve woken up, can’t we prove you’re innocent now?”
Violet shrugged but said nothing. If Max found out she had played a role in Eddie being locked up here, she might just have a heart attack on the spot, Violet thought to herself.
Deep down, Violet was sure Max was genuinely herself. Looking at her, she didn’t sense the dark, ominous presence she had felt when confronting Vecna. That intense fear she had once experienced wasn’t there when she looked into Max’s eyes now.
Max wasn’t done with her questions. “And what’s this letter about?”
Before Violet could respond, John cut in, gesturing toward Eddie and Violet with his cigarette.
“These two idiots—everyone thinks they’re dead. But as you can see, they’re right here, alive and kicking. See?” John said, nudging Eddie with his foot. Eddie lightly smacked John’s leg in return, grumbling irritably.
Max continued anxiously, “Did you send it to guys? I hope they don’t make the mistake of calling here. If they do, the people here will know you’ve been communicating with them.”
Eddie smiled faintly and shrugged. “I don’t think they’d do something that dumb. I mean, these guys saved the world. More than once.”
Just then, a nurse approached Violet. “Dr. Oliver Owsen is expecting you,” he said in a formal tone.
Violet sighed, standing up, and began walking toward the doctor seated at a nearby table. “Another day of pretending to be crazy,” she thought to herself. This charade, in a way, was starting to amuse her.
She had even managed to scare the doctor about Eddie. She now realized how much fun Eddie had been having with her in their therapy sessions before Eddie's innocence was exposed.The man was afraid of everything.
Here, people could do anything—spit on the floor, behave disgustingly, or even walk around naked—and no one cared. Because you were ‘crazy,’ and that made everything acceptable. Violet pulled a chair and sat across from the doctor, her eyes still on Eddie in the background.
Oliver coughed lightly to draw attention. Violet turned her gaze away from Eddie to him, then sank back into her chair, folding her arms across her chest. The seriousness on his face made it clear that this wasn’t going to be an ordinary conversation.
“Violet, I need to ask you something,” Oliver said in a low but determined voice.
Violet tilted her head back and took a deep breath. “Are you going to ask me what day it is today?” she asked in a slightly sarcastic tone.
“No,” Oliver replied, ignoring her reaction. “I want to ask you something about a patient.”
This unexpected response piqued Violet’s interest. She raised her head curiously and looked at Oliver’s face attentively. “Have you ever heard of a patient named Ginny Jones here? Or seen her?” he asked.
After a brief pause, Violet shook her head to indicate no. “Why are you asking?” she replied, somewhat cautiously.
“There’s a reason I came here. I’m not here by coincidence. I’m looking for someone,” Oliver said, his voice carrying a stronger emphasis.
Violet sighed, lifting her hands in a gesture of indifference, and yawned. “Everyone’s looking for someone, buddy. That’s life,” she replied, with little interest.
“Violet, I’m asking you to be yourself for a few seconds,” Oliver said impatiently. “It’s obvious that this isn’t you. I can see how intelligent you are. I’ll pretend to believe your crazy stories again, I promise. But right now, I need your help. I went to the corridor of Ward C that you mentioned yesterday. All the rooms had been cleared out. Someone had taken everything there in a hurry.”
At these words, Violet raised her eyebrows and began listening to Oliver more attentively. She was now certain that he was really here looking for someone. The concern in his voice made it clear how important that person was to him.
“I wish I could help you,” Violet said, with a slight hint of regret, “but I’ve never even heard of the person you’re talking about while working here.”
Oliver fell silent for a moment, rubbing his forehead with his hand. “Tell me about this Dr. Arthur,” he said finally. “And his experiments.”
Violet fell into deep thought at this point. She knew one of the biggest shortcomings here was belief. No one would believe you if you said you saw a ghost, had a murderer chasing you, or claimed that you weren’t actually insane. But if someone did believe you, it either meant they had also lost their mind or they truly knew something.
She was certain that Oliver wasn’t a madman. The fire of vengeance in his eyes showed that he was capable of truly doing something about it.
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John turned to Eddie, his expression curious as he broke the silence. "What’s wrong, man?" he asked, his voice low.
Eddie tilted his head toward Oliver and Violet, his jaw tightening slightly as he watched the two of them deep in conversation. "Him," Eddie said, nodding toward Oliver. "His existence is enough."
John raised an eyebrow. "What happened?"
"There doesn’t need to be a reason. There’s just something... off about him," Eddie replied, a hint of irritation in his tone. "I can feel it."
John shrugged, his casual demeanor unbothered. "He’s just doing his job," he pointed out.
Eddie’s eyes narrowed as he leaned forward. "There’s something weird about him. I can sense it."
Before John could respond, a staff member entered the room. John quickly tossed his cigarette to the ground, stomping on it hastily, his hand fanning away the lingering smoke. 
Eddie stretched out on the couch, arms folded behind his head, while Max sat nearby, her gaze darting nervously around the room.
"You’ll get used to it in a few days, Max," Eddie said, a teasing grin spreading across his face.
Max rolled her eyes. "I’m not crazy, Eddie."
Eddie let out a sharp laugh. "But I am. The sooner you accept it, the easier it gets."
John nudged Eddie’s leg with his hand, an insistent poke that drew Eddie’s attention.
"What now?" Eddie snapped, feigning exasperation. "Can’t you leave me alone for two minutes? You’re exhausting."
The playful remark hung in the air as Eddie’s gaze wandered to the ceiling, his eyes tracing the outlines of the religious motifs painted above.
John cleared his throat. "Uh, Eddie?"
"Hmm?" Eddie muttered without looking at him.
"Those friends you always talk about—Steve and, uh, what’s-his-name..."
Eddie turned his head, his brow furrowing. "Yeah, what about them?"
"You said they weren’t dumb enough to call here," John said, his voice cautious.
Eddie sat up straight, his posture suddenly alert. 
His gaze followed John’s, locking onto the sight of Steve standing in the hallway, wearing a blue patient outfit, his curious eyes peering into the room. Beside him was Jonathan.
Rubbing his eyes as if to ensure he wasn’t dreaming, Eddie glanced at Max, who looked back at him with equal disbelief.
"Yeah," Eddie muttered, his voice dripping with irritation. "I was wrong. They’re even dumber than I thought."
Eddie stormed toward Steve, whose grin stretched so wide it showcased every one of his teeth. Steve nudged Jonathan with his elbow, who also broke into a smile upon seeing Eddie.
Their expressions faltered, though, as Eddie’s face grew darker the closer he got. Without hesitation, Eddie smacked each of them on the back of the head.
"What are you idiots doing here?" Eddie demanded, his tone sharp. "Steve, did you forget where the hairdresser’s is? And you, Jonathan? I thought you were the smart one!"
Steve raised a finger to his lips, motioning for Eddie to lower his voice. "You might want to yell a little louder," Steve quipped. "That mustached lady over there didn’t hear you."
Across the room, a woman seated alone at a table playing with domino tiles raised her hand. "I heard you, sweetheart," she called out.
Eddie couldn’t help but laugh despite himself, though the irritation lingered on Steve’s face.
Steve leaned in slightly, his voice more subdued. "Hopper got us in. We’re here to help you."
John, now chewing on a gum, glanced between Eddie and his friends, his expression unimpressed. "Great. Did  this Hopper guy also mention there’s no way out once you’re in here?"
Jonathan and Steve exchanged uneasy glances, but Eddie’s frustration boiled over. His teeth clenched as he grabbed both of them by the arms and dragged them to a corner.
"Vecna’s in Max, huh?" Eddie hissed. "That’s what you told Violet?"
Steve hesitated, his expression grim. "I don’t think so anymore," he admitted. "Actually, part of why we’re here is because of that. Vecna’s weak right now. Even if he picks a new victim, he doesn’t have the strength to take their life. So he’s waiting—for the weakest moment, the most miserable time."
"Dustin said the best place for that would be..." Jonathan started.
"An asylum," Steve finished for him.
Eddie raised his hand like a student seeking permission to speak. "Hold on a second. Are you telling me Vecna could possess anyone here?"
Steve nodded solemnly, confirming Eddie’s worst fear.
Steve’s voice carried a determined and calm confidence. "The more of us there are here, the safer we’ll be," he said. "We have to back each other up. They’re going to release Max today. She’s going to change the statement she gave about you. Once you’re out, we’ll get out too."
A shadow crossed Eddie’s face, his gaze trembling with worry. "What about Violet?" he asked, his voice slightly rising. "And John?"
Jonathan gently placed a hand on Eddie’s shoulder, his eyes carrying a soothing expression. "One thing at a time, Eddie" he said softly. "Let’s get you out first."
Eddie turned his head and gestured toward Max, who was sitting in the corner of the room. His gaze revealed a deep concern. "Don’t you think we should check if Vecna is inside her before we send her out of here?" he asked, his words hanging in the air like an echo.
Steve frowned, pausing for a moment as if in thought, then spoke as though he had figured it out. "Vecna hates heat," he said.
Jonathan nodded in agreement, his expression hinting at an answer to Eddie’s worry. "When he got into Will, he ran away from the fire in fear," he added. "We have a chance."
Steve’s gaze wandered around the room as he continued with a bit more hesitation. "But where are we going to find fire in here?"
A faint smile appeared on Eddie’s face. His eyes shifted to John, who was lighting a cigarette across the room. "I know," he said.
taglist: @arabellagreenleaf @cokepowder55 @nessa3nessa @25bohemianmoons @nicholaschavezslut69 @multyfangirl @t-folklore13
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hellmunsonfire · 21 hours ago
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As Eddie's cock slid further inside you, you felt a rush of excitement mixed with a hint of pleasure. His eyes locked onto yours, burning with desire and intensity.
''You feel that?'' he whispered huskily, his voice sending shivers down your spine as he began to rock his hips back and forth. You nodded silently, unable to form words as he continued to thrust in and out of you.
Eddie's fingers dug gently into your hips as he picked up pace, driving himself deeper into you with each stroke. Your nails dug reflexively into his shoulders as you felt yourself being consumed by the primal, animalistic passion between you.
''Oh God…'' You moaned softly, your voice barely audible over the sound of your ragged breathing. His cock throbbed and pulsed within you, sending waves of pleasure crashing through my body like a tidal wave.
His cock was like a velvet-covered rod of steel, thick and unyielding as it pushed its way deeper into you. The ridges and veins on his cockhead scraped against your inner walls, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through you. With each stroke, he'd pause for a moment at the entrance to your cervix, teasing you with the promise of more before slowly pushing forward. His balls slapped gently against your ass cheeks with every thrust, creating a soothing rhythm that seemed to match the pounding of your hearts.
You felt yourself getting wetter by the second, juices flowing freely from your pussy like a river bursting its banks. The sound of your lovemaking filled the air - creaking bedframe, heavy breathing, and the slapping of his balls against your ass.
Eddie's eyes never left yours, burning with a fierce intensity as he watched you come undone beneath him. His fingers dug deeper into your hips, guiding himself in and out of you with precision. Your body was on fire, every cell screaming for more as Eddie continued to ravage you with slow, deliberate strokes.
The pleasure was building inside you like a storm cloud gathering force - dark and foreboding yet tantalizingly close to release. With a final, powerful thrust, Eddie pulled out of you and came crashing down onto your body. His hot cum splattered against your skin like a summer rainstorm, coating your breasts and belly in its sticky warmth. His moans were like thunderclaps - loud, primal, and utterly uncontrollable. He buried his face in the crook of your neck as he rode out the waves of orgasmic bliss.
You felt him shudder and tremble above you, his body wracked with convulsions as he emptied himself onto you. As he finally stilled above you, you could feel him gazing at you with a look of pure, unadulterated ecstasy. His eyes were glassy and unfocused, his face flushed with the heat of passion.
''Fuck... it was.. it was something else,'' he whispered hoarsely into your ear, his voice barely audible over the sound of his ragged breathing.
You smiled up at him, feeling a sense of satisfaction wash over you as you wrapped your arms around him. You lay there for a long moment, entwined in each other's embrace as the aftershocks of your lovemaking slowly faded away.
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punkrockmlchael · 13 hours ago
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Just Thinkin’ About You
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Materlist
Eddie Munson x GN!Reader, some Gareth Emerson x GN!Reader Comfort
This fic is for: the twelve days of promptmas event by @littlexdeaths ; the prompt is a bonus prompt “I'll be so blue, just thinking about you...” this idea came to me and I’m just, I’m sorry..
Warnings: Fluff, Mentions of Eddie's death, Gareth comforting the Reader, Sadness I am sorry, Drinking, gn!reader (some mentions of jewelry but I think that’s all that could be considered ‘gender specific’), no use of pronouns
Synopsis: Christmas used to be your favorite holiday. But now it will never be the same without Eddie by your side.
Word Count: 2.9k
-
December 24, 1983
“Eddie,” you smiled, shaking your head as you followed him through the hall of his trailer to his bedroom. “I thought we agreed on no Christmas presents,” you added, smiling at your boyfriend of two months.
“You might have agreed to no Christmas presents, but that doesn’t mean that I did,” Eddie smiled, walking into his bedroom. You followed after him, rolling your eyes playfully as you sat on his bed.
“You can’t give me a present if I didn’t get you one,” you argued. He grabbed a box from his desk and turned around, smiling at you.
“I can and I will, you don’t need to give me anything, baby,” he said, placing the poorly wrapped box on your lap. Spots of cardboard were poking out underneath the blue colored wrapping paper that was covered in white snowflakes.
“Eddie, I just... it doesn’t feel right taking a gift from you and not giving you one back,” you sighed, looking at the box before you looked up and met his eyes.
“Baby, please,” he begged, sitting down next to you on his bed. “Just open it, I don’t need anything for Christmas; I have you. And, having you here with me tonight is enough of a gift for me.”
You sighed, knowing that you were fighting a losing battle. You slowly began to tear off the wrapping paper, looking down at the box on your lap. You opened the cardboard box and looked inside, smiling to yourself.
You picked up the white teddy bear that wore a small Hellfire shirt on and held it in your hands, looking at it. You turned it over in your hands a couple times before you looked up at Eddie with a raised eyebrow. "What's this?" You asked, smiling at him.
"A teddy bear, look! It looks just like me!" He smiled back, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. "Now you can always cuddle with me, even if I'm not there with you at night!" You smiled, leaning up to kiss his cheek softly.
"Thanks, Eddie," you giggled, pulling the teddy bear close to your chest. “This teddy bear might be better at cuddling than you are,” you teased, receiving a pout back from him.
“Want to test that theory?” He asked, pulling you closer to his body.
-
December 24, 1984
“What do you mean there’s two parts to this present?” You asked, looking at Eddie with a raised eyebrow as he placed a gift on your lap.
“I mean, there’s two parts to this present,” Eddie repeated, looking at you with a nod. “Open that, and then I’ll show you the second part.”
You looked down at the box on your lap, running your fingers over the wrapping paper. Blue with snowflakes; the same wrapping paper Eddie had used last year for your teddy bear.
You tore the paper off of the box, lifting the lid gently and you looked in it. On top of some red tissue paper sat a picture frame… a picture frame with a piece of notebook paper in it framed neatly.
“You’re the sun to my moon.
The light of my life.
When you walk in the room, all eyes are always on you.
You can turn any darkness into light.
Because, baby, you’re the sun to my moon.”
Eddie’s sloppy handwriting looked absolutely gorgeous as it sat perched in the black picture frame perfectly. It was as if it was meant to be there on display. You ran your fingers over the glass gently, looking up at Eddie with a confused look.
“What’s this?” You asked, watching him move around his room towards his guitars.
“A song,” he simply replied, grabbing his acoustic guitar. He turned back towards you and pulled up his chair, sitting in it. “A song that I wrote for you, baby,” he added, getting the guitar to sit on his lap comfortably.
“You… you wrote me a song?” You asked, looking back at the picture frame that was sitting in your lap.
“Yeah, I did,” Eddie nodded, smiling softly at your reaction. “And, part two is me playing it for you,” he added, strumming his guitar strings to ensure that they were in tune.
“No,” you said softly, looking at him as you shook your head. “You’re not going to play it for me..”
“Yes, I am,” he replied, nodding again as he began to strum at the strings more rapidly, ignoring your words as he began singing to you softly.
You sat there in awe, watching your boyfriend sing the song he had written for you with so much passion. Your eyes watered slightly, watching him do something he loved… for someone he loved.
“You’re the sun to my moon, the light of my life. When you walk in a room, all eyes are always on you; you can turn any darkness into light. Because, baby, you’re the sun to my moon.” Eddie sang, looking at you as he continued to strum away on his guitar.
You couldn’t control the tears that were falling, smiling as you watched Eddie play and sing. When he was done you stood up, setting the picture frame on the bed as you walked towards him. You leaned in and kissed his lips gently, smiling into the kiss.
“I love you, Eddie,” you said as you parted from the kiss. He smiled up at you.
“I love you too, baby. You’re the sun to my moon; I’ll love you forever and always. You bring so much light into my life... I don't know where I would be without you."
-
December 24, 1985
"Eddie, where are we going?" You asked as he pulled you towards the back door of Gareth's house.
"Outside," Eddie replied, smiling as he tugged you out the door into the snow covered backyard.
"But, honey, it's absolutely freezing outside..." you whined, shivering instantly as the cold air hit your body.
“Relax,” he said, smiling as he pulled you closer to him on the back porch of Gareth’s house. “I just, I wanted to give you your gift but I didn’t want to do it in front of everyone,” he added, motioning towards the house where your friends were all inside drinking eggnog and exchanging gifts along with laughs.
“Why not?” You asked, looking up at him as you wrapped your arms around his torso. You clung to him gently, feeling the heat radiating off of his body in the cold of the night.
“Because, this one is special and I didn’t want any of the boys to laugh,” he admitted, looking down at you. He moved his left hand to the pocket of his leather jacket before he pulled out a small box.
He handed you the small box and you smiled when you saw the wrapping paper. Blue with white snowflakes. You took the small box in your hands gently, unwrapping it carefully.
“Blue with snowflakes, huh?” You asked, looking at the same wrapping paper Eddie had used the two years before. Twice in a row is a coincidence, but three times? That seems like it was on purpose, as if Eddie had a method to his madness.
“Yeah, it was one of my favorites when I first bought it and now I think I need to wrap every single Christmas present I give you in this paper for the rest of my life,” he smiled, nodding towards the box in your hands. “Open it.”
You opened the box itself, revealing a silver sun pendant hanging on a beautiful silver chain.
“You got me a necklace?” You asked, smiling at the necklace. You moved it around slowly, watching it shimmer and shine in the moonlight.
“Yeah, remember the song I wrote you last year?” He asked, you nodded, looking up at him.
“Yes, of course, the lyrics you hand wrote are framed by my bed.” You replied, softly.
“Right,” he nodded, blushing softly. He cleared his throat and looked up at the sky before he looked back at you. “Well, I wrote how you’re the sun to my moon… so, it just… seemed fitting to get you a necklace with a sun,” he added, smiling nervously.
You looked up at Eddie and smiled more, literally, you were smiling so hard it felt like your face hurt. Or, maybe it was because it was so cold you couldn’t feel it anymore. Either way, you smiled at your boyfriend and wrapped your arms around him, hugging him tightly.
“Eddie,” you said, sighing into his neck. “I love it,” you added, looking up at him. He smiled, wrapping his arms around you as he kissed your head softly.
“You sure about that, baby?” He asked, looking at you.
“Absolutely,” you responded, quickly. You leaned in and left a soft kiss on his lips. “I love it and I love you.”
“I love you too,” Eddie smiled, kissing you again.
“Come back inside, you two; it’s freezing out there!” You heard Gareth yell from inside the house through the door. ��And, gross. Get a room,” he teased, winking at you both.
You looked back at Gareth and shook your head, looking back up at Eddie. You leaned in and kissed his lips one more time before you pulled him back inside into the warm house.
-
December 24, 1986
You sat on the couch at Gareth's house, sipping on your spiked eggnog. The rest of the Hellfire club moved around the living room, laughing at the small television as A Christmas Story played in the background.
You held the mug of spiked eggnog in your left hand, periodically sipping it as your eyes moved around the room to your friends. They all looked so cheerful, so happy, as they exchanged gifts and laughs with each other.
It was almost as if none of them were affected by the fact that the room had one less person in it. One less Hellfire member, one less friend, one less person that you loved...
A sigh escaped your lips as your right hand moved up to your neck, playing with the small silver sun pendant that sat perfectly on the silver chain.
The sun necklace Eddie had given you as a gift last Christmas; the third Christmas you had spent together in a relationship. You ran your fingers over the sun pendant again and again, your eyes moving down to the mug of eggnog in your hands.
You didn't even like eggnog, truly. You just wanted something, anything, to drink pain away; something to try to fill the hole in your heart that had been there since March of 1986.
Normally, this is when Eddie would look up at you from the floor in front of the television. He'd lay on his back and look up at you, classic grin on his lips as he wiggled his eyebrows, looking at the mug in your hand. "What're you drinking, sweetcheeks?" He'd ask, watching as a blush would appear on your cheeks, giggling at the nickname he used for you.
But not this year.
Instead, Dustin and Mike were sprawled out on the floor where Eddie usually sat playing a game of Battleships. The two bickered back and forth, accusing the other of cheating whenever they landed on a spot that held a ship.
You took a big gulp of your eggnog, finishing it all in one go before you stood up from your spot on the couch and made your way to the kitchen.
Gareth stood in the kitchen, laughing and talking with Jeff. When they heard footsteps, they looked up and smiled at you. “Hey,” Gareth said softly, your name rolling off his lips in the same breath. “How’re you… holding up?” He added, wanting to show his care for you as a friend but also not wanting to overstep your emotions and boundaries.
“Hm?” You hummed, looking up at him as you grabbed some more eggnog. “Oh, I’m doing fine, thanks,” you nodded, lying through your teeth as you sipped more of the eggnog. You reached for the bottle of rum that sat on the counter and poured it into your mug, adding a bit more holiday spirit.
Taking another sip, you made a face before your eyes met Gareth and Jeff again, a slightly concerned look on their faces. Jeff and Gareth exchanged looks before Jeff grabbed his drink and nodded, “sorry, I’ve got next game at Battleships,” he mumbled before turning on his heels and walking back towards the living room.
Gareth watched as Jeff walked away before he looked up at you. He grabbed his cup of eggnog, looking around the kitchen before his eyes made their way back to you; you stood there in the kitchen, leaning against the counter as you stared into the mug, watching the bubbles move around the rim of the mug as you swirled it gently. Your other hand found its way to your necklace, playing with the sun pendant again.
This really has become a bad habit for you. Shutting yourself out and being alone with your thoughts about Eddie. It’s not that your friends didn’t help you, in fact, it was quite the opposite. They did everything in their power to help you through your emotions and thoughts.
Staying with you constantly, always trying to keep you engaged in any activity, always asking you to tag along with them even if it was just a quick trip to the record store. You loved your friends, you really did; and you know that you would be lost without them.
But, as much as you loved them they just… weren’t Eddie.
And, no one really talks about how it feels to lose the person you truly loved more than anything in the world. Nothing can prepare you for that heartbreak; and it is something you wouldn’t wish upon your worst enemy.
Gareth said your name softly, snapping you out of your thoughts. You looked up at him and hummed, your fingers still working on your necklace.
“I have something for you,” Gareth added softly, walking towards the stairs. “Follow me.”
You looked at him a bit confused but followed him nonetheless. As you ascended the stairs to his bedroom, you looked at the pictures that hung on the wall. A nervous habit of yours was always to look at your surroundings, studying every detail of everything around you.
You stepped into Gareth’s room, watching as he walked towards his closet. He opened the door and dug around for a bit, grabbing a small box that was wrapped in light blue wrapping paper with snowflakes on it… the same wrapping paper that Eddie had always used for your Christmas presents. He turned around and walked towards you, handing you the box.
You took it in your hand, examining it as you set your mug down on his dresser. You turned the box over in your hands multiple times, looking at the gift tag on the top.
It was addressed to you, from the Hellfire Boys.
You looked back up at Gareth and raised an eyebrow slightly, shaking your head. “You didn’t have to get me anything,” you said softly, trying to hand the box back to him.
“I know that,” Gareth replied, nodding back at you. “But, collectively, we wanted to. It’s from Grant, Jeff and I. We know how much you miss Eddie; hell, we all miss him. But, while we lost our friend, you lost your boyfriend.” He added, pushing the box back into your hands. “Please, just, open it,” he said softly.
You sniffled a little, already feeling the tears form in your eyes as you looked back down at the wrapped box. You lifted the paper up gently, careful not to tear it as you unwrapped the small box. You opened it carefully, a pair of silver sun earrings looking back at you.
You couldn’t help it at this point, tears were actively streaming down your face as you looked from the earrings to Gareth and back to the earrings. Not only had the boys picked out jewelry for you, but they picked out earrings that matched the necklace Eddie had given you a year before perfectly.
“What,” you started, wiping your eyes as you closed the box, looking at Gareth. “Why?” You asked softly, stepping towards him. You hated crying in front of him, and anyone for that matter, but you couldn’t help it at this point. “You didn’t have to do this,” you said softly, looking up at him through tears.
“Yeah, we know,” he said softly, wrapping his arms around you gently as you continued to cry softly. “But, we wanted to. You deserve the best in the world, and I’m so sorry that you’ve lost so much. We know how much you love that necklace because Eddie gave it to you, and so, we figured we’d get you something to match it so you always have an excuse to wear the necklace.” He added, rubbing his hands up and down your back gently as you buried your face into his chest softly.
“Thank you,” you mumbled, sniffling as you looked up at him. “You guys have been some of my best friends because of Eddie and… I don’t know where I would be without you,” you admitted softly.
“Hey, don’t mention it,” Gareth said softly, pulling you a little closer to his chest. “Once a Hellfire member, always a Hellfire member,” he mumbled against your hair.
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eiightysixbaby · 3 months ago
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thinking about eddie, leaned back and too fucking casual, while you straddle his lap with his cock buried deep inside of you. you’re so desperate, dripping wet and dying to get yourself to release.
eddie’s not even touching you. he has his arms folded behind his head, nonchalant, as he watches you bounce on him. he loves the little crease between your brows that always forms when you’re concentrating on trying to cum.
he almost reaches out to stroke your cute little pout with his thumb. almost.
“are you making yourself feel so good, baby?” he asks, knowing you likely won’t be able to get out a sentence in response.
you let out a breathy whine as an answer, hips moving faster on his lap. it drives you crazy, how he won’t touch you. the way he speaks, so cocky, knowing that he barely even has to try to completely unravel you.
“you’re such a good girl, working so hard on my cock,” he purrs, regarding you rather patronizingly down the slope of his nose.
his big brown eyes, now half-lidded, roam over your frame, like he’s analyzing you. you feel like your skin is blazing under his stare, your top teeth pulling at your bottom lip in a frenzied kind of urgency.
“what is it, baby?” eddie coos, mockingly. he can see your movements decreasing in precision, more sloppy by the second.
he finally gives in, just a little bit, wrapping an arm around your lower back and pulling you flush to him.
“cat got your tongue?” he teases into your ear, his hot breath fanning against it. you let out a shaky moan, whispers of ‘fuckfuckfuckfuck’ slipping past your lips.
he knows the signs, can feel your muscles tensing up. “oh, she’s gonna cum for me, isn’t she?” he asks, his mouth splitting into a wicked grin.
all you can do is nod, eyes pinched shut so tight you’re seeing bursts of color behind them. pleasure mounts in the pit of your stomach, building and building before it comes crashing over you in waves.
he revels in the way you babble mindlessly as your orgasm rips through you; brought on entirely by you, without his help.
“you did such a good job, sweet thing,” he says, letting his hand rub softly up and down your back. “think i should give you a break from doing all the hard work, hm?”
you nod lazily, slumped against him.
“lay down for me then. spread your legs, baby. let me taste you.”
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majestyeverlasting · 1 month ago
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𝐧𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | 𝐞.𝐦.
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This piece contains 18+ content.
Pairing Eddie Munson x Female Reader [friends → lovers]
Summary Eddie holds good on his promise to take you out on a date, and as the night comes to a close, you realize you’re not ready to say goodbye [fluff, smut, 4.3k].
A/N This is the long-awaited continuation of come whatever may. You can read that first if you'd like, but enough context will be provided here. Spoiler alert: the sex is very soft, teasy, and desperate because they’re in l-o-v-e. Haven't written smut in nearly two years, but I evoked the muses of times past—and thus!...
PART 1
∘°∘♡∘°∘
Summer is long gone, but when you open the door to Eddie holding flowers, the warmth that rises to your cheeks makes it feel nearer than ever. It’s a vibrant bouquet composed of white roses, red lilies, baby’s breath, and leafy foliage. The wrapper crinkles as he extends them to you with an easy smile and soft hello. Your eyes flick back up to his after admiring the delicate blooms. 
There’s a healthy flush to his cheeks, his curls neat and defined. The black leather jacket he’s wearing clings to his slender frame with a polished edge. Under the weight of your gaze, he huffs out a chuckle that reminds you you’re still on earth. 
“Gonna let me in, sweetheart?” Charm drips from his voice and shimmers within his chocolate eyes. 
Nodding, you shuffle backwards, allowing him to enter and push the door shut behind himself. As he steps further inside, you can feel his gaze sweeping over your outfit. An olive-green corduroy dress layered over a beige turtleneck that’s soft against your skin. His smile grows, glinting bright enough for anyone to believe he just won the Lotto when, really, it’s just the pretty sight of you holding the flowers he bought. 
“These are beautiful.” You raise the bouquet, but Eddie’s eyes remain on you. Seeking refuge from his gaze, you tuck your nose down to inhale the sweet fragrance of the petals. “They smell amazing too.” 
“That’s all you, sweetheart.” 
You get shy when his eyes meet yours. “You like my outfit and everything?” 
Eddie swallows back a degree of his earnestness so he doesn’t sound too far gone. “Of course I do, are you kidding me?” 
Seemingly out of nowhere, Robin descends the staircase with a bag slung over her shoulder like she’s prepared to leave, hair tied up in a messy bun. Given your parents were away in Indianapolis for the weekend, you’d asked her to come over and help you get ready so you wouldn’t be alone. 
Eddie’s eyes flick to her, clearing his throat. “Did you help her pick this out, Buckley?” 
“Obviously,” she smirks. “Nice hair.” 
“It is really nice,” you agree with a soft smile. Eddie lifts a passive shoulder, chest fluttering. 
“Rob, do you think you could…” she takes the bouquet without you having to ask. The two of you had shuffled through the attic and dug out a vase earlier that afternoon. 
Eddie had promised this date, along with flowers, a week ago when you slipped away from Steve’s party to be alone. That night, he’d kissed you in the heat of the moment but wanted to backtrack and do things right. You deserved that much. 
The time you’ve been looking forward to has finally come. 
With your hands now free, the only thing you can think to do is wrap your arms around Eddie. The world goes still as he hugs you back, nerves quelling beneath your skin. For a moment, you merely enjoy the warmth of the same arms you’ve been wrapped in countless times before. With your head tucked into his chest, enveloped by the faint scent of his cologne, you release all the worries that ride on the sweeping coattails of change. For a moment, he’s just Eddie, your best friend. 
When you pull away, he leans in, tilting his head with that familiar, boyish curiosity. “You alright?” he asks quietly, searching your gaze.
You nod, a smile breaking through. He takes your hand in his and gives it a squeeze, “Just checkin’.” 
Robin soon walks back into the foyer. “I put the flowers in a vase for you,” she announces, taking her hair down and shaking it out. “Hate to admit it, but you two are actually cute. It’s disgusting.” 
“Hey,” Eddie lifts his hands, laughing. “Little victories.” 
She adjusts her bag on her shoulder with a content sigh. “Welp, I’m about to go pester Harrington at Family Video.” She turns to Eddie, playfully narrowing her eyes. “You better treat her right, ‘cause best believe I’ll be hearing all about this date.” 
When she slips out the door, Eddie smiles at you in silent assurance. 
●・○・●・○・●
The sun hasn’t quite begun to set, but orange and pink faintly blend on the horizon. A cool fall breeze flows in through the cracked windows as the radio plays softly. Eddie had asked his Uncle Wayne to borrow his pickup truck because it’d be more romantic than his bulky van. You can’t say whether he was right, only that you’re grateful to be riding shotgun with him—headed to an unknown destination, no less. 
You’d already guessed through a list of places that Eddie denied with amusement. Sighing, you look out the window to people bustling about, walking dogs and strolling out of shops. You’re coming out of the more commercial side of town, nearing Lover’s Lake and the state park.  
“I give up,” you sigh. 
Eddie chuckles, giving your thigh a gentle squeeze, ignorant to his warming effect on you. “Okay, fine, I’ll give you a hint.” That makes you peer over at him in interest. “If I had to guess, I’d say not a lot of people have had the chance to try it out yet.” 
That’s a dead giveaway. Your mouth falls open in surprise. “That new place along the lake—Stillwater Grill?” The twitch of Eddie’s lips is telling. “No way!” The excitement in your voice makes his chest tighten.
Stillwater was supposed to be good, from what you’d heard. A slightly elevated dining experience minus the formalities and steep pricing of a restaurant like Enzo’s. Where classic American favorites embrace small-town charm, according to the paper. 
Upon your arrival, the parking lot houses a pretty decent number of cars. Lover’s Lake provides a serene backdrop that catches the evening light. Couples stand outside admiring the view. Eddie opens your door and helps you out of the truck like a proper gentleman. You happily tuck yourself into him as you walk inside. 
When you were younger, you often wondered what love would be like. Books and the movies always presented countless possibilities, but you always believed it’d be special for you. So different that nothing else would be able to compare—perhaps, selfishly. One thing for sure, you never could’ve dreamed up someone like Eddie. 
As he sits across from you under the dim glow of the lights, laughter and chatter filling the air, you wonder if you’ll ever be able to put all this into words. Belly full, you realize what you’ve enjoyed even more than the food and cozy, rustic atmosphere was is company. 
Eddie has an inexplicably magnetic way. There was a magic in getting him all to yourself. In relishing the lovely sparkle in his eyes that suggested he was always on the verge of laughter. The passion he exuded made it seem like the way he loved a given thing was biblical. He could talk the ear off a cornfield if he wanted but knew instinctively when to listen. Even your passing remarks seemed to bear some semblance of importance to him.  
Conversing with him had always been easy, but without other people vying for his attention, you were truly able to admire the boy before you. To embrace the deepening attraction. 
As you wait for the waiter to bring the tab, you don’t realize you’ve grown silent and begun blinking at him with the fondest eyes. 
●・○・●・○・●
The wooden stairs of your front porch creak under both your footsteps as you climb them, stopping in front of your front door as the night settles around you. Moths flutter around the lanterns framing the door, crickets chirp in the lawn. Eddie kicks at a dead leaf, combing through a sea of thoughts in search of the right words. 
“There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask,” he says. You wait for him to continue. His doe eyes search yours for the briefest moment, seeing right through you it seems. “Would you like to be my girlfriend? ‘Cause I think it’s gonna be hard for me to quit you.” 
Your mouth opens a couple times in a mix of giddiness and surprise. “Yeah,” you finally breathe. “Yeah, I’d love to be your girlfriend.” 
Smiling, he steps forward to capture your lips in a slow, sweet kiss that you feel everywhere. It manages to outshine the first, more desperate, kiss you’d shared a week prior. This one is steady and sure, like a promise sealed with a prim bow. When he pulls away to look into your eyes, you shyly duck your head. 
“I’ll call you tomorrow?” he asks, lifting your chin. 
He doesn’t want to go, instead wishing he could stall and stay right here with you. He’s parted ways with you hundreds of times before, but now he can’t seem to figure out how he ever did. That’s how he knows he’s in trouble. The best kind. 
“I’ll pick up,” you promise. 
He stands at your door until you see yourself inside. It’s quiet without him. Your eyes land on the flowers he got you, now in a vase in the living room thanks to Robin. Too quiet. The sound of your front door reopening stops Eddie in his tracks. He turns around with a slight furrow between his brows. 
“Everything okay?” he calls, mindful of his volume. 
You make a small motion for him to come back to you. He listens in a heartbeat. 
There’s a weighted look in his eyes beneath the playfulness, “Miss me already?” 
“No,” you lie. 
●・○・●・○・●
It’s a wonder how you manage to make it feel like there’s a pleasant fire kindling within him. What started out as yet another easy conversation, has turned into you straddling his lap on the couch, the fabric of your dress riding up your thighs as the TV drones in the background.
Everything feels heightened now. The brush of your lips against his, your fingers gently scratching at the nape of his neck. 
Eddie’s lips part in a soft, shuddering breath when you roll your hips over him. 
“Hold on a second, sweetheart.” His eyebrows are pinched as he pulls back from the kiss, hands stilling you. 
You blink down at him all owl-like. “Did I do something?” you murmur, purposely shifting over him again.
He restrains from canting his hips upwards. There’s a softness to his gaze even though his cheeks are flushed hot. 
“If getting me worked up counts. You’re real good at that.” His shamelessness is dizzying. “Just don’t wanna get ahead of myself.” It’s a subtle invitation, a chance for you to call things off in case you aren’t on the same page. 
But you can feel warmth pooling low in your belly. “What else am I good at?” 
He knows you’re game then. For whatever this is, whatever it’s bound to become. 
“Trying to pretend I’m not driving you crazy too.” He chuckles when you duck to hide your face in the crook of his neck, kissing the sensitive skin there. 
There’s a gentleness to the way Eddie’s hand slips beneath the hem of your dress, meeting the delicate skin of your inner thigh. 
“Eddie,” you murmur, lifting from his neck as his fingers continue their trail upwards.
“Hmm?” He pauses, thumb stroking your skin in soft circles. 
“Can we go to my room?” A slight shiver runs through you as his fingers move to trace along the crease of your thigh.
“Your call, sweetheart.” 
Before he withdraws his hand, he snaps the waistband of your panties and grins when you straighten.  
●・○・●・○・●
The lamp on your nightstand casts everything in a dim, warm glow. Eddie shrugs off his jacket and drapes it over your desk chair, eyes roving over the notebooks and pens strewn about. The sight of his tattooed arms makes you move to kiss him again, letting your lips wander to the corner of his mouth and his chin in a trail of warmth. He throbs in his jeans when you slip your fingers beneath the hem of his shirt and curl them into his stomach. 
Reluctantly, he pulls away from your lips and steps back enough to pull the fabric over his head in one swift movement, muscles rippling as the dark ink on his torso is revealed. With newly disheveled hair, he kisses you backward onto the bed, crawling over top of you as you settle into the mattress with a pleased hum. 
Having the upper hand allows him to press hot kisses along your jaw and down the side of your neck as you huff out sighs and caress his milky skin with buzzing fingertips. Nothing about his movements is rushed, each press of his lips intentional enough to believe he'd had them planned for years.
Eddie didn’t know your body yet, not in the way he’d like to. But he was reading it in real-time. Cataloging every writhe and hitch of your breath so he knew where to return. The obsessive part of his brain often gets on his nerves, but he’s grateful for it now. Grateful he wants to see every move and sound you can make. There’s an artistry to it, a musicality. 
An inkling of panic arises when he begins to suckle on the side of your neck as you offer it. Not because he’s being rough, but because it’s overwhelming enough to want to crawl out of your skin. A soft whimper rises up your throat as your hands find his flexed biceps, digging in. You’re unsure of whether to pull him closer or push him away. 
Eddie rises from your neck on his own accord, running a finger over the spot. “You like it when I kiss you here, huh?” There’s a slow, honeyed quality to his voice. 
When you offer a helpless nod, he leans back down again, and you shudder as his mouth laves over the same sensitive area a little ways beneath your ear. Exasperated, you blindly paw for the waistband of his jeans, fingers shaky as you fiddle with his belt buckle.
Feeling your struggle, Eddie moves to press a final kiss to your throat before pulling away from your neck. 
“Stupid thing,” you pant, pouting up at him for help. 
Chuckling, Eddie reaches down with one hand to undo it with ease. Then, watches with blown pupils as you hurry to undo the button and zipper. He slips off the bed as smoothly as he can to remove his pants, black boxers tented and straining. A spark of heat surges through you as you press your thighs together at the sight. 
No sooner is he crawling back to help you out of your clothes. The lacy underwear set you’re wearing beneath is a pretty shade of baby blue, and Eddie can’t help but palm himself. 
“Jesus,” he sounds awed and devastated at the same time. “You’re so gorgeous...” 
Before he’s even had time to process, you take off your bra, baring your chest for him to see. Your nipples pebble with the new exposure and all of two seconds pass before he’s surging forward, sending you tumbling back to the mattress in a breath of startled laughter he swallows down like a lifeline. 
You gasp into his mouth, back arching, as he cups one of your breasts, circling and rolling your nipple between his fingers. You’re barely kissing him back anymore, but he continues licking into your mouth as your lips part around shallow exhales. 
That’s when the phone begins to ring. Eddie sits back on his haunches despite your attempt to stop him. 
“Might be important.” His voice is rough. 
“They can leave a message.” 
He smirks, dragging a hand through his hair. “You sure?”
Lifting your leg, you run a careful foot over the swell of his boxers. He twitches at the contact. 
“You’re all I care about,” you murmur. “Need you, E.” There’s a desperate edge to your voice that draws him right back in.
“You’ve got me.” He runs a lone finger down the front of your panties. “Can I take these off?” You’re only half listening to his words, nodding to whatever. “Lift up for me.” The muscles of your thighs tremble as you do. 
Tossing your panties aside, he leans down and presses a gentle kiss to your belly button. Then another one just beneath it. A surprised sound rises up your throat when he gently spreads you open to kiss that swollen, sensitive part of you that’s pulsing with need.  
“Oh, gosh—” you stutter out, hands threading into his hair.
“Need me right here?” His voice is laced with a smile, and you can’t help a breathy laugh. Prideful warmth ignites in his chest. “Or do you need me somewhere else?” He trails playful, ticklish nips along your inner thighs, making you squirm. 
“Eddie, please…” 
He’s gracious enough to begin rubbing your clit in precise, measured circles, intently studying the pretty scrunch of your face.
“Firmer,” you instruct breathily, “—just like that, just like that.” Your legs spread wider instinctively, arching when he collects your slick with a slow, heavy finger. 
You’re already so on edge from his previous attention that it only takes a few moments before you ascend into bliss, muscles growing taut as your mouth falls agape. The strong, rhythmic pulses serve as your only touchpoint to reality along with Eddie’s tender caress at your slick, fluttering entrance. One he didn’t even have the chance to breach. 
“Look at you…” he says, voice thick. “Made it easy for me.” He laughs a little, more turned on than anything. 
“It’s not funny,” you halfheartedly assert, cheeks prickling. 
“No,” Eddie agrees. “Just super-duper hot.” 
As he raises up, you realize his other hand is tucked into his boxers, lazily stroking himself. A second wave of desire builds within you, overlapping the remnants of the first and any sense of embarrassment that had begun to kindle. It’s spurred by the deep flush of his cheeks, the way his eyes are soaking you in like he’s just witnessed the most beautiful unraveling. 
Under your hazy, watchful gaze, he scrambles off the bed. Without warning, he shoves his boxers down, kicking them from around his ankles. His arousal impressively springs up towards his stomach. You bite your lip at the rosy, leaking tip, the gorgeous vein snaking prominently along the underside. 
Eddie peeks over at you with a dazed quirk of his lips before retrieving his wallet from his jacket. He pulls out a square foil packet and promptly rips it open with his teeth. 
Upon crawling back into the bed, he isn’t expecting you to take his cock in a loose hold, stroking upwards from the curly hair at the base to circle your thumb around the tip. There’s a pleasant tug low in his gut as he kicks up in your palm. 
“Sweetheart…” His voice is soft, nearly a plea. You let your hand glide back down, this time venturing lower to cradle the soft weight hanging beneath. He nearly buckles forward. “What're you doing to me?” he rasps. 
“Nothing,” you murmur innocently, wetting your hand and giving him a few more easy strokes, enjoying the warm, veiny feel of him before withdrawing your touch. 
He curses under his breath as he rolls the condom down, his gaze never leaving you as you reposition yourself to take him. 
“Eager beaver,” you lilt as he crowds over you. 
“Yeah,” he exhales. “I am.” 
He lines up at your entrance, tip catching as he collects your slick with a wavering breath.  
You open your legs even wider. “Want you,” you murmur, breathy and sweet. 
The expression on his face is like something from a painting, raw and rapturous as he eases into your encompassing warmth. He takes it slow, giving you time to relax around him as you breathe through the dull ache of welcoming him in. A low, guttural sound escapes him once he’s buried all the way. 
Your chests brush. Tears prick in your eyes at the closeness, the feeling of being filled so completely. 
“You’re unreal,” he murmurs, lips clumsy against your chin. “Like I made you up in my head.” 
He begins moving, slowly drawing back only to push back in. A steady rhythm finds him as your mouth falls open, legs hooking around his thighs. The muscles of his back ripple with his effort, and you chart every tense line with your fingertips. 
With a low groan, he makes a minor adjustment to better reach that spongy spot within you. You arch into him with a whimper, breath catching in your throat. 
“There she is,” he whispers, reaching between your bodies to rub firm, steady circles against your clit. 
“Oh, god…” It sounds like you’re in pain even though you’re the furthest thing from it. When you close your eyes, tears stream down your face in twin streaks, surprising both of you. Eddie tenderly wipes them away, gaze soft. 
“You’re okay,” he promises. “It’s just me, angel.”
Except, Eddie isn't just anything. You’ve never felt so close to someone, so in tune, and somehow, it’s Eddie—sweet, goofy, wild-haired Eddie—who knew exactly what you needed. He picks up the pace as you arch and writhe beneath him, body yielding without question.
“You feel so good,” you whimper, clenching around him. 
His groan reverberates against your neck as his hips jerk sloppily, “Can’t say stuff like that…” Those words only make you tighten around him again.
The dazed way he mouths at your shoulder lets you know he’s clinging onto composure. You’re too warm, too everything—snug, and soft, and beautiful. He’s not ready for this feeling to end. This heady, binding haze of pleasure.  
“Eddie,” you breathe softly. “Wanna ride you…” 
Your plea nearly finishes him off. “Yeah?” he croaks.
You nod, whimpering. He barely withstands the feeling of slipping from within you. Shifting onto his back allows him a moment of reprieve, but he nearly loses himself when you straddle him, sinking back down with a circle of your hips. 
You brace your hands on his ribcage, steadily rocking on top of him as your head tips back. Sweat glistens in the divot of his sternum as he attempts to move in time with you. When you speed up, he closes his eyes to calm himself down. 
“Hey…where’d you go?” You croon, grazing your nails from his chest to his quivering stomach, relishing the feeling of his warm, dewy skin beneath your fingertips.
The wrecked way he forces his eyes back open almost makes you fall apart. His fingers dig into the meat of your hips as a greater sense of urgency awakens between you. It’s in the way you speed up, both eager, desperate, chasing. He memorizes the way your body moves over top of his, the bouncy sway of your chest. 
“You look so pretty taking me like this,” he shudders. “My pretty girl.” 
“Eddie…” you coo, high and breathy. 
“I know, sweetheart,” he chokes out. “Wanna feel you come around me so bad.” He’s babbling now, “Shit, I’m not gonna last. I can’t take it anymore, angel...I can’t—” 
The earnest crack of his voice sends you tumbling over the edge, vision spotting. Pleasure radiates throughout every fiber of your being as your walls contract around him. He stills your hips with a firm hold, bucking upwards and coming undone in surging waves. You slide your hands over his abdomen to feel him flex with each strong jolt that wracks him. 
As your body begins to relax, you blink down at him, lips parted as you catch your breath. Eddie throws an arm over his face as he sucks in air, neck and chest flushed pink. His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows. 
Both of you shudder as you ease off him. The pleasant ache of loss pulses between your legs as you partially lay down on top of him, hooking a leg over his waist. He traces along your thigh in light, soothing passes. You can feel his chest rising and falling. 
“You okay?” he eventually murmurs.
You nod, kissing his shoulder. “You?”
“I think so,” he chuckles weakly. 
●・○・●・○・●
The afterglow brings a quiet stillness to the air. Clean and beneath the sheets, you study Eddie’s long lashes, his nose, his plush lips. He eventually cracks a self-conscious smile.  
“What?” he questions. You shake your head because you don’t know what to say. He doesn’t look like he believes you. “C’mon...” 
So, you think of something, a small truth you’re willing to give him, “I just really enjoyed spending time with you tonight.”
He hums, a mischievous glint flickering in his eyes. “What was your favorite part?” 
“Probably the food at Stillwater,” you say, though your fingertips are tracing along his jaw, then down his neck, trailing to his waistline to lightly brush between his hip bones as he squirms. “Best I’ve ever had,” you lilt. 
Eddie breaks into a flustered laugh, leaning over to sleepily kiss the coy smile from your lips. 
“But really, though,” you say afterward. “Thanks for tonight. Never met a guy quite like you.” 
Eddie realizes then that he’d better get a head start on counting his lucky stars. 
-
Thank you so much for reading! Feel free to let me know what you think.
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