#anyway metalheads come chat with me

[nessiandefenseattorney]

I wanna know where all the metalhead acotar fans are at because I’m starting to get the feeling like I’m the only one😭

If you are an acotar metalhead fan please show yourselves my blog is a safe space for you pookie

[kiwi-bitchez]

Double Down, Triple Threat 

Summary: insecure!Eddie x bartender!Reader

Eddie is constantly flirting with you after his Corroded Coffin sets at the Hideout, and you have the bad habit of flirting back. What happens when you overhear a conversation that wasn’t meant for you? Maybe you’ve had the wrong idea about the cocky metalhead who negs you for free drinks. Now you need to take it into your own hands to resolve some built up tension. 

Smut, as always, with a touch of angst but generally fluff/happy ending. 

Word count: 18k (eek! in retrospect I maybe should have split this into multiple parts but...fuck it, brevity has never been my strong suit LOL) Buckle up for a doozy.

Content warnings: smut, afab reader with she/her pronouns, use of y/n, alcohol consumption, smoking, the devil’s lettuce, mention of Eddie's scars and sustained injuries (slightly canon divergent obviously because our boy is ALIVE here, but the events of season 4 generally stand otherwise), also Eddie does some negative self talk where he refers to himself as mutilated but everything is happy in the end I promise, and scars are nothing to be insecure about he's just down in the dumps you feel me?, oral (fem receiving), fingering (fem receiving), unprotected PIV sex (plz use protection irl), pet names, reader and Eddie shower together

A/N: I know it’s been a hot minute since I’ve posted a fic on here, but I hope all y’all who are still riding the Eddie Munson thirst train enjoy this :) I’m trying to regain the motivation to write more, so hopefully more fics to come soon (no promises though lol) (maybe some Steve? Steddie x Reader? Let me know what y’all want to see.) I

"I'll have the usual," his hoarse voice and boisterous presence cut through what few other customers sat at your bar, forcing your attention his way.

"Yeah, and what would that be?" you try to give him your best deadpan voice, unsure yet if you were in the mood for his antics. 

"Come on, like I ever order anything other than a whiskey and coke," his curly dark hair stuck slightly to his damp forehead, not having bothered to wipe the sweat from his brow in between the stage and the bar. If you could even call it a stage. It was more of a sad corner with an extension cable and a few amps that his grunting bandmates were lugging back into their truck while he very helpfully came over and tried to flirt with the bartender. You were the only bartender. On Friday nights anyways. 

"That's because you're unoriginal," his drink was already half made as you flick your eyes up through your lashes at him, knowing he was watching you intently, not that he was particular about how his drink was made by any stretch. "You're actually going to pay for it this time," you slid the glass over to him, "I'm not joking."

"You wound me," he tries his best to give you puppy dog eyes, "but I'm pretty sure Randy mentioned something about drink tickets when we negotiated our new Friday slot."

"That's not a thing," you make up menial tasks behind the bar to keep your hands and eyes busy while he relentlessly chats with you, "never has been. Plus if I keep giving you free drinks you'll get the idea that I like you or something." 

Fuck, you told yourself you should stop flirting back with him. Your first excuse had been professionalism, which didn't make a lick of sense considering you were a bar back at this hole in the wall that paid local bands in drink tickets, apparently. Your second excuse had been that as fun as Eddie was to chat with, you hardly knew anything about him other than his loud band and his drink order. 

Unfortunately he liked to chat and sooner than later you knew more about him than you wanted to. Your newest excuse? If you kept flirting back with him he might get the idea that he could see you outside of this dingy bar, and you liked the comfort and safety of the three feet of wood separating you, it kept you from doing something you might regret. 

"Don't act like you didn't like our set," he threw the rest of his drink back, "I saw you watchin' from over here."

"Yeah, well you're kind of hard to ignore, you know, with the volume and all," your voice had a too-playful tone that you mentally noted to dial back on. 

If you were being honest, Corroded Coffin was one of the weekly acts that you didn't entirely mind. Most were groups of middle aged men trying to relive the glory days by booking a weeknight at the Hideout, instruments barely tuned and a setlist that was decades out of style. While Eddie's band certainly wasn't everyone's cup of tea, you found yourself tapping your foot along with their songs more often than not. At least they were original, you’d give them that. 

He held his glass up to signal a request for another. "Go help your friends carry all your shit," you swiped the cup from his hand, hating that you focused on how your fingers briefly touched his, "and then I'll make you another. And I'm charging you for both."

"Whatever you say, babe" he spun around three or four times on the bar stool before sauntering off and finally assisting with moving the amps and drum kit. You rolled your eyes, not that he was watching you anymore, but more to keep yourself from checking out how his shirt clung to his torso. His black t-shirt was always a size too small, revealing his tattoo covered arms that you never allowed yourself to stare long enough at to make out what any of them were. 

Eddie was nice. As much as you liked to push each other's buttons and joke around, he was a lot more respectful than most patrons that tried their hand at flirting with you. He never said anything gross or disrespectful, not something you could say about most men who've had more than a few beers. 

But you didn't want to risk pushing any boundaries with him, because you work here, and his band plays here weekly, religiously. You didn't want things to get weird, and as much as you learned how to avoid certain patrons, there was only so much space between the 'stage' and your station behind the bar. 

Despite this, you have his second drink made before he finishes putting his stuff away, and you haven't started a tab for either of them. A big smile stretches across his cheeks when he notices his already-made drink set by his stool as he walks over from the back door. You couldn't help but feel a tiny smile creep up on your face as well. 

"Really made me work for this one, huh?" he takes the first sip while still standing before setting back into his seat, "truly amazing service, best I've ever had, really." You glare at him while cleaning some cups absentmindedly with a rag. "Not sure if you can tip on a drink ticket though..."

"Fuck off," you giggle and throw the wet towel at him, "you can't charm your way into TWO free drinks you ass."

"Aww you think I'm charming?" the flirtations between you were always edged with sarcasm, which you both found a lot easier than admitting 'hey you need to stop looking at me like that or else I'm going to keep thinking about pinning you against this countertop.'

"No, I don't, which is why you're PAYING for both those drinks," a lie followed by another lie, and you both knew it. "Where'd your band go?"

"Why? 'm I boring you?" he didn't mind taking up all your attention when the other bar patrons were either too drunk to stand or too old to even notice that a metal band had performed for the past hour. "No one's ever accused Gareth of being more interesting than yours truly. Plus he doesn't drink anyways, so your venture capitalist instincts wont work on him." He raised his drink to punctuate his joke before taking another long swig. 

"Ha ha," you don't give him the satisfaction of a real laugh, "I just wanted to make sure you had a ride home in case you try and swindle me into making you a third drink."

"Oh no, I told them all to scram, that I had a hot date with you and my unsettled tab," he leaned over the bar, trying to eliminate as much space between himself and you, "plus I've got a friend coming by to pick me up in a bit. So if you wanted to make me that third drink in exchange for me keeping you company while you close up, I certainly don't have any reason to turn you down."

"Fine," you point at him with a stern finger, "but this one'll be more coke than whiskey."

"Deal," he pointed his finger back at you, moving carefully in so the tips of your pointers touched. This made you genuinely laugh, unable to keep up a wall for too long around him. 

He finished his second drink while you ordered last call, and settled up with crumpled cash and mumbled thank you’s from the few remaining drunks. After closing up the cash register you make him that more-coke-than-whiskey drink as promised, and get to wiping down every sticky surface. 

"What's your drink?" he asks.

"Hmm?" you glance over from your hunched over position, trying to get the wet rag across the underside of the bar where someone had clearly spilt what appeared to be an entire pint of light beer. 

"You know my drink order, I wanna know yours." you stand up straight and look at him. 

You consider pushing back and demanding why he wanted to know, but it was late and you only had so many quips left in you, "Gin and tonic with extra lime." You get back to soaking up the spilt mess.

"Woooooow," his drink was finished and he took it upon himself to grab the broom from behind the bar and start sweeping up the bottle caps and tracked in dirt, "and you had the nerve to call me unoriginal."

"I'm not some creative rock and roll guitar guy like you, I don't need to be original, I'm just a bartender," you let him keep sweeping and start checking off other tasks from your closing list.

"You aren't just a bartender, give yourself more credit than that babe," he held up the dustpan full of crap, silently asking where to put it and you hold open a mostly full garbage bag for him to dump it into before tying it off, "judging by your drink order I would also guess that you're, hmmmm, an 85 year old man."

"Oh my god," you slap him on the arm with another half dirty hand towel, "in that case, you're doing voluntary manual labor just to flirt with this 85 year old man, so maybe you need to reevaluate your priorities."

He takes a few steps forward, not quite caging you against the bar, but nearly there. "And how am I doing? Is it working?" He's the closest he's ever been to you, jokingly sliding the broom around your feet, pretending to sweep while maintaining searing eye contact.

As the which-one-of-us-is-going-to-learn-in-first question buzzes around you, an irritating light flickers through the big front window, indicating someone had pulled their car right up to the curb with their high beams on. Eddie scrunches his nose up, and your urge to kiss him somehow grows despite his annoyed expression. "That's my ride."

You give him a small nod, turning your head to try and squint to see who could possibly be picking him up at this hour, but not making out much through the foggy glass. "I suppose I can manage the rest without you," you grab the broom from him, fingers touching for the second time tonight, "see you next week, rockstar."

Eddie wants to do something smooth, a wink or a clever line, but instead nervously gives you a nod and is out the front door before he can give it a second thought. The minute the door closes behind him you let out all the air you had been holding in your chest, both frustrated and slightly relieved. Eddie on the other hand- was bursting with regret and frustration, immediately running his hands through his hair and pulling a cigarette out of his pocket. 

"Absolutely not," Steve craned his neck out of his car that always looked like it had just gotten a fresh wax and detail, "at least five feet away from the beemer if you're going to light that." 

Eddie rolled his eyes, considering putting the cigarette back into the carton and getting the fuck away from this bar, but ultimately gave in and pivoted on his heel storming back towards the brick exterior and slumping against it as he flicked his lighter and took an aggressively deep pull. 

"What's your damage?" Steve moved out of the expensive car, keeping a bit of distance from Eddie but close enough that the two could talk, "That bartender you like wasn't on or something?"

"She's inside closing up now, so keep your fuckin' voice down" he gave Steve a glare and then immediately an apologetic look for being so prickly, "I'm just bad at this shit, man."

"You can't be that bad at it, Gareth and Jeff said the two of you eye fuck across the room every Friday night," Steve shrugs, understanding Eddie's drawback but knowing his friend rarely gives himself the benefit of the doubt. 

"Yeah, well, that's not the hard part," Eddie rips his cigarette and presses his wild hair deeper into the brick behind him, exhaling upwards. 

You had taken note that Eddie's ride hadn't left yet, so you busied yourself for a minute before deciding who cares if you had to give him an awkward wave on your way across the parking lot, so you locked up and grabbed the trash to take to the dumpster out back before leaving for the night. 

You really didn't mean to eavesdrop, but as soon as the back door clicked you heard their muffled conversation from around the corner. Rather than give away your presence with the clanging of the trash you gently set it against the wall and moved forward silently, staying out of sight but well within earshot. 

"Flirting is the easy part, she's fuckin' easy to talk to, man" Eddie's voice carried, and you felt guilty but continued to listen, "I don't want to just fuck her though, I want to like, date...her."

"Oh," Steve's voice dropped knowingly, "well that's... good, I guess, that you like her like that."

"Well even if I didn't like her like that and was only looking to fuck her," he sighs out, and you carefully listen while furrowing your eyebrows, trying to make sense of their conversation, "she's gorgeous, and no girl that hot- scratch that no girl at all want's to fuck some mutilated freak."

"Don't call yourself a freak," Steve's voice seems apprehensive. 

"Yeah, sure, but you can't say I'm not mutilated." There was a beat of silence, and you didn't have time to think too much about his words before he went off again, voice laced with thick sarcasm, "Oh hey babe, so glad you were able to look past that I live in a trailer park and all my neighbors think I'm a satan worshiping murderer, but I hope you can be cool with my singular nipple and weird lumpy scar tissue, I know it's super hot, you're gonna have to get in line." His voice carried easily far past your hiding spot. 

"You're not giving her much credit dude," Steve was still apprehensive to respond, knowing how Eddie got when he started to spiral, "Maybe she's not that shallow."

"It's not that," Eddie's voice started to calm, "I'd just rather take my twenty minutes of flirting after our Friday gigs than risk it and have her look at me like she's sorry for me or something." 

With that he snubbed out his cigarette butt with the toe of his combat boots, let out a big sigh, and moved to get into the passenger side of Steve's car. You take a few slow, careful steps back towards the slumped garbage bag and wait until you hear the engine start and see the lights pull out onto the opposite side of the road. 

Fuck. Part of you felt incredibly guilty for listening to what was obviously meant to be a private conversation, especially a private conversation about you. But your gears were turning far too fast to get hung up on guilt. 

You always felt apprehensive about Eddie because you figured he was a flirt, a player, the kind of guy who talks to all bartenders like that, and you just happened to be the one he flirted with after his Corroded Coffin shows. You never wanted to get too invested in making him smile or waiting around for him to chat you up, because you know how most guys are, especially guys who carry themselves with that much confidence. And you were fucking wrong. 

Now fully realizing that the ball is in your court, you need to plan your first move. You decided, Eddie was worth taking the risk. 

It was truly a shot in the dark, but if your intuition ended up being a bust then no one would know about your wasted afternoon other than yourself. The following afternoon you drove aimlessly up and down the unpaved residential streets of the trailer park. There were two in town but you had a pretty good feeling that this was the one. 

You only started to feel stupid when you got some confused and slightly angry looks from people going about their business, hanging laundry or smoking on their porches, scrunching their noses and trying to make out the unfamiliar car driving in circles around their neighborhood. 

Aha! There it was. You knew that your gut could only fail you so many times when it came to Eddie. Exactly what you had been looking for, a big black and blue 1971 Chevrolet van strewn with dents, patches of rust, and, your telltale sign, a homemade Corroded Coffin sticker crookedly placed on the faded chrome of the bumper. 

Step one, complete. Step two was contingent on Eddie even being home. The presence of his van had you feeling hopeful. 

You attempt to rid yourself of lingering nerves with a deep breath and silent pep talk. You park adjacent to his van and hop out before your legs can convince you not to, and suddenly you've rung the doorbell and are standing with your hands clasped nervously in front of his door. 

"Just a minute," you hear him yell from inside, step two, complete, "What're you here for? Cuz I only got weed right now so if you're..." his hollering voice trails off from inside as he catches a glimpse of you through the screen. "Y/n? What the fuck are you doing here?" 

"Jeez, hello to you too," you try to lace your voice with the same flirty edge that you always took with Eddie, but you didn't have the comfortable barrier of the bar or the security of being the person serving him his drinks. 

"How the fuck do you know where I live?" His tone wasn't quite angry, but it was bordering on more pointed than just confused. 

"Sorry, I didn't mean to drop by totally unexpected," you suddenly felt vulnerable, regretting this whole stupid plan, "I can go." 

You start to scurry back to your car and hide your face forever, but he cuts you off with, "No, no, just, why are you here?" He softened his voice, and came down the stoop to hover over you on the last step. 

"Well," here goes nothing, "last night I felt like we sort of got interrupted." You pause, trying to gauge his reaction, "And I couldn't stop thinking about it, and I didn’t want to wait a whole week to see you again."

"Oh," his face and reaction didn't give you much of a clue as to what he was thinking. 

"And," you started filling the empty air with words, as you often did out of anxiety, "I know where you live because I've heard you sing 'fuck everyone in the trailer park, I'll play my music and curse your existance' probably a thousand times, it really wasn’t that hard to figure out where you live." 

He let out a chuckle, despite being deep in the throws of processing your earlier statement of feeling cut off. Of course he wanted to see you outside the confines of the musty bar, he just hadn't expected it to be like this, so sudden. "Well that's fair. I’ll give you double points for perception."

"I didn't mean to interrupt your Saturday," you began to reel again, "just wanted to tell you I'd like to hang out with you sometime, preferably not at The Hideout."

"Can sometime be now?" he hopped down from the last step and gave you an inquisitive smile, nose slightly scrunched and giving you butterflies. 

"Yeah, sometime can be now. You promise I'm not interrupting anything?" you felt a wave of relief, his energy had fully shifted from confusion to your comfortable flirty banter.

"Just a packed bong and have some laundry I probably wasn't going to do anyways," he suddenly realized he either had to invite you inside, which would be slightly embarrassing given the current state of his trailer, or suggest a secondary location, "you hungry? We can grab lunch or something?" 

He offered to drive, and you suggested sandwiches and beer to go for a backseat van picnic. He was relieved that you were down with doing something so casual, no stuffy cafes or overpriced food. If you were more than happy to suggest eating deli counter sandwiches in the back of his clunky van then maybe he had less to worry about than he thought. 

The passing moments between you had him realizing he truly didn't know much about you. Your job, how you had no problem snapping back at rude customers, and most recently your favorite drink. He wanted to know more, and quickly did as you had a 'regular' sandwich order and gave him directions to a side street that looked out onto a small lake, explaining that you'd eat lunch out here sometimes when the weather was nice. He parked the van in reverse, letting the back doors swing open, giving you the perfect bench looking out to the scenery to sit back and eat. 

"All my years living 'round here, I've never been to this spot," he noted through bites of sandwich wrapped in white paper.

"Yeah, most people know the spot across the lake with the rope swing and all that," you gesture across to where there was a popular jumping rock littered with empty beer cans, "too crowded for me though, it's more peaceful over here." 

"Sorry if I was a bit rude earlier," he started, but you quickly cut him off before he could finish his apology.

"No, no," you move your hand over to gently grab his mid gesture, "don't apologize, your reaction was incredibly reasonable."

"I just-' he started but you gave his hand a squeeze, "I really am happy you decided to come by, I didn't want you to think otherwise."

"I'm happy you chose lunch with me over a bong and laundry, that was some tough competition I had," he rolled his eyes at you.

"Don't make fun of me," he nudged your side, "I'm usually pretty wiped from Friday's show and trying to think of clever things to keep up with you, so my Saturday's are usually pretty lazy," your shoulders rubbed against each other, "being a washed up wannabe rockstar and flirting with a girl way out of my league can really do a number on me."

You share a soft giggle but reassure him that playing live music, even if it is only for you and a crowd of five drunks is still pretty cool. "Plus I like that you dress like this all the time, it's not just an act, this is just how you are," you gesture to his ripped jeans and ring clad fingers.

"What did you expect, babe? Surprise me at my trailer to find me in a polo and khakis?" the suggestion alone had the two of you laughing, brainstorming an alternate universe where Eddie was an accountant by day and only let his rocker side loose on Friday nights. 

"If you aren't secretly an accountant, what do you do when you're not playing music, if I may ask," you realize this was really one of the first personal questions you'd exchanged, keeping things punchy and surface level until this point.

"Ah, well," he scratches the back of his head, "although I wish the drink tickets we make at The Hideout were enough to cover rent, I work down at the body shop, you know the one down the street from the grocery store? My uncle knew some guys there and hooked me up with a job fixing cars after high school, and it's not too bad, I'm not half bad at it either, so that's where I'm at."

"You just really keep getting better and better, huh?" at first he wonders if your comment is sarcastic, but you continue "So what I'm hearing is you'll look at my rattling engine for free? I know nothing about cars and am always worried the people at the body shop are going to overcharge me."

"I only charge in sandwich dates and drink tickets, so you're in luck," he responds quickly without giving it much of a thought. 

You take a second, "What about dinner dates? Maybe movie dates too? Are those acceptable payments for your mechanic expertise?" 

"Not usually, but I'll make an exception for you," he responds after a few beats, realizing you wanted to see him again, and not just at the bar. 

You both are looking out at the lake, the buzzing energy around you making you nervous to look at each other. So you just tilt your head sideways to rest on his shoulder, "Phew, that's a relief, because I have a lot more of these planned."

"Oh yeah?" he shifts his body towards you, lifting your head from his shoulder and finally meeting his gaze, a stupid grin plastered across his face, he couldn't help it. "Which one of these dates do I finally get to kiss you?" You let out a breathy laugh, half amused by his corny line and half surprised he was being so forward. 

"Hmmm, I'm not sure," you pretend to think it over, stringing this out was killing both of you, but you couldn't help but push his buttons a bit more, "I'd say I'm kind of a third date kind of gal."

"Three? As in three from now or three including this one?" He seemed genuinely concerned, causing a genuine laugh to slip through the act you were putting on. 

You move your hand to his chest, faces closer than they had ever been. You had always been sucked into his big brown eyes, but now you saw flecks of honey and deep browns that bordered on black in them, faded freckles dotted across his cheeks, a chapped patch on his lower lip that had clearly been the victim of some anxious chewing. "I'll make an exception this time, for you."

He let you make the first move, leaning in and gently pressing your lips to his, soft and slow. You could feel his breath catch in his throat, prompting you to pull back and look at him through fluttered lashes, as your mouth parted slightly to ask him if that was okay, his big ring clad hands cupped the sides of your cheeks and pulled you right back into him, kissing you like he was afraid you'd evaporate if he ever stopped. 

The wind was knocked out of you. You couldn't be bothered to breathe when your attention was solely focused on his lips, his tongue, the sharp intake air he sucked in between slotting your top lip down to your swollen bottom one, nipping with teeth and holding your face so close. 

After a minute of soft whimpers and exploring the new intimacy you pull back to finally catch your breath, fully ready to ignore the need for oxygen and lean back in when you see his face, rosy and buzzing with excited energy. 

"Sorry, if that was kind of a lot," he realized you had given the sweetest peck and he proceeded to practically shove his tongue down your throat. 

You however, were already brushing his apology off and leaning in for more, missing the feeling of his big hands cradling your face, sending tingling shockwaves down your body. Before you could lunge back at him and take more of what you wanted, he takes your chin in between his fingers and tilts your head up to his.

"I don't know if you can tell, but I'm sort of crazy about you. And I really don't want to fuck this up, but I've wanted to do that for a really long time.” 

He could tell by your pout that you were begging for another kiss, and he couldn't refuse you. You were completely lost in it. Learning that he let out a little gasp when you ran your fingers up into his hair, that he would catch your bottom lip in between his teeth when you started to pull away and he needed more, that you were already completely wrecked for him. You weren't even conscious of the fact that you were now fully seated in his lap, sandwich wrappers and empty cans long pushed aside. 

Part of you wanted to wait, to let things build up organically over time and get physically intimate when the moment felt right. But fuck it, the moment felt right now. 

Any apprehension or worry of scaring him off dissipated when his thumb ran across your cheekbone, his other strong arm holding you steadily against him, you don't think you could wiggle away if you tried. Swirling in your apprehension you also fought the urge to press your hips down into his and grind against him harder. You wanted to let him take things at his pace and not rush anything, but fuck you could feel his cock getting hard between your legs and it was driving you insane. 

He dragged the knuckle of his middle finger up your neck along the curve of your jaw, speaking softly into your kiss, "can I kiss you here?" pressing his touch into the side of your neck.

"You can do anything you want to me," you pant back, slightly embarrassed at how desperately horny that came out.

"Fuck," he groaned out, cock noticeably twitching against his black jeans and into your thigh, "you can't say shit like that to me."

"Sorry, sorry," you try to gain your composure and lift off him slightly, “I-"

He took a hold of your waist and pulled your back down into his lap, diving into the side of your neck and nipping and sucking until he found the spot that made you squeeze your thighs slightly around him. "Anything I want requires a lot more time and space than we have right now, pretty girl." He mumbled into your neck in between kisses, his words making your back arch slightly more into him. "Plus I need to be a gentleman," you rolled your eyes at this. 

"Since when have you ever worried about that," you tug his hair back to force him to look at you.

"You really want to know what I want, right now?" he quirked an eyebrow.

"Really, really," you let your weight sink down onto his lap a touch more, feeling the stiff length under his jeans slot between your thighs a bit deeper, making his breath hitch before he could respond. 

"I want you to lay back on those blankets up there," he nodded towards the few crumpled up blankets he had shoved behind the driver's seat, "and let me eat your pretty pussy until you're screaming loud enough for the people across the lake to hear."

Whatever you were expecting, it wasn't that. 

This unexpected burst of sexual confidence threw you for a loop, as you were fully prepared to be the one making all the big moves. Your mouth hung open slightly, struggling to form a response when all that was swarming through your mind was holy fuck, holy fuck, that was so hot, what the fuck do I say. 

Rather than respond with words you just roll off his lap and start moving deeper into the back of his van, propping your torso up on bent arms and sending him back a suggestively raised eyebrow. He swung his legs up over the ledge and took one of the doors with him, sliding into the van and quickly shutting the other as well. 

It took a second for your eyes to adjust, the previous sunlight coming in from across the lake was cut off, and the light source now was only coming from the front windows, making things darker but not invisible. You quickly had no trouble making out Eddie's slender form shuffling around and getting situated in between your bent knees, urging you to lay back a bit more and relax as much as your body would allow against the lumpy blanket pile. 

"This is okay?" he asks while leaning down to pick up where you had left off a moment ago. 

"Yes, fuck," you wiggle up into his form, wanting as much contact as he would allow, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down into your lips. 

It all had moved faster than you were used to but fuck if it didn't feel so right. Why did you feel more comfortable with this person you hardly knew than you had with your past few long term relationships? He just had this way of taking your nerves and throwing them out the nearest window. 

After sucking on your lower lip until it was puffy and slick he dips his chin into the crook of your neck, dragging his perfect nose up your jugular and nestling into the junction of your neck and ear, licking a stripe all the way. You wanted to desperately buck your hips up into his, but only allowed yourself half the satisfaction of lifting your thigh slightly to give him more space to sink deeper into your slumped form. 

When Eddie’s life flashed before his eyes, on more than one occasion- actually- he wasn’t particularly satisfied with what he saw. In the moments before what he assumed was death, his brain searched for the best moments to accumulate and reminisce on before his body succumbed to the untimely demise he was facing. It wasn’t much. 

He wished he had more than smiling moments with his D&D club, a few killer performances at the Hideout, no killer audiences, some nights of revelry with his friends, and a few forgettable hookups in dingy bar bathrooms. That couldn’t be it, right?

In the wake of his life flashing, fading, and flashing again, he made more space for good things. After his shows now he let himself think about you, and how much he liked you, let himself try his hand at flirting. Because if he was going to come anywhere that close to death again, he needed more to show for it than a few trysts with nameless girls and an unnerving amount of scar tissue. 

So he wasn’t about to fuck this up. If someone came at him with an axe tomorrow, at least he’d have the memory of you splayed out beneath him in the back of his van, lips shiny and cheeks rosy. If his life were to flash before his eyes again it wouldn’t be as bad.  

“Do you know how long I’ve thought about this?” he mumbled into your neck, his denim clad thigh pressing perfectly in between your legs. You could only hum back as if to say, “no, tell me.”

“I think you do know,” his teeth grazed upon your earlobe, sending a jolt through your hips and finding solace in the friction between your thighs with his.

“Yeah, I know,” you breathe out, arching your neck down to nudge the tip of his nose with yours, “do you?”

“I didn’t have a clue,” he mumbled into your lips before slipping his tongue against yours, sickly sweet and laced with all the regret of not asking you out sooner. 

You let your ankles hook around one another, locking your hips together and earning a deep rumble of a moan from the man trapped. “I recall you mentioning something about the people across the lake hearing me…” you playfully trail off, equal parts confidently flirty and deeply desperate for him to act on his earlier promise. 

He had nudged his way down into the neckline of your shirt, licking and nipping at as much of your breasts as he could find, fingertips grazing the waistline of your pants. Part of you wanted to just lay here and let him have his way with you, but the conscious part of your brain recognized the insecurities he expressed in that conversation you weren't supposed to hear, and signaled you to be as forward with him as you could be. 

“Fuck,” you struggled to pry your hands between your pressed bodies to reach your jeans button, “Eddie can I take these off, I want to feel you.” 

With your hands moved south, you managed to undo the clasps of your jeans while also running your hands upwards towards his shirt, wanting to feel the skin beneath. 

It was subtle, but impossible for you to miss, when your fingertips grazed his lower stomach and trailed up his t-shirt his body shifted into a tense state for just a moment. You could have easily missed it. It took all of a millisecond for him to subtly jerk away from you and redirect the attention to your now unbuttoned pants. His hands were dragging the material down your thighs before you had a moment to register the way he averted your touch. 

He playfully tossed your bunched up pants over his shoulder, as if they had anywhere else to go other than the three feet of van between him and the doors. After that flashed moment of shyness, you noticed nothing but a playful smirk on his face, smile crinkled at the corners of his cheeks and eyes full of wild mischief. 

His hands spread against your thighs, digging his fingertips into as much skin as the width of his palms would allow. 

“So fucking perfect,” he drank you in, hardly noticing the moment you pulled your shirt and bra over yourself, but dumbstruck as soon as his eyes caught sight of your reveal.

Knowing he had yet to put his money where his mouth was, he adjusted downwards and let his flushed cheek make contact with your thigh. In that moment he vowed to let the sight of the little damp patch in the center of your cotton panties stay forever in his mind. 

He didn’t let a single thought register in his brain before he leaned forward and let his tongue lick a fat strip up the middle of your clothed center, adding dampness to the apparent arousal already there. 

“Jesus,” you were slightly taken aback at his action, letting your head fall back, while still lowering your gaze down to where his hooded lids and pink tongue sat in between your thighs.

He reveled in the feeling of being between your thighs, letting his tongue play around the center of your panties for a few strokes before the twitching in your legs signaled that you had had enough of his teasing. 

Taking a blissful moment to hook his finger through the crotch piece of your underwear and pull it to the side to reveal your slick center, he simply couldn’t help himself. He pulled back and drank the sight of you in, panties wet with your arousal and his spit pulled to the side and your perfect cunt finally in his sights. 

The groan he let out only tripled your level of neediness for him. You let your chest puff up and hips gyrate forward at nothing to signal that you needed him, like, now.

Before you could even think of something snarky to say to get him to get on with it, his entire face was fully buried in you. An involuntary ahhh escaped you as he let his entire tongue press as far into you as space would allow. 

“Ohmygod,” all coming out in one breath, “fuckeddie.” 

He groaned deeply into you at the feeling of your pussy on his mouth, your taste, how your hips twitched slightly when his nose pressed against your clit. He didn’t even think about all those drunken chats with the boys or stupid cosmo articles he couldn't help but read, eating your pussy didn’t require any thought, he could only feel. 

Your sighs were like a song to him, every sharp inhale and subtle whimper, he caught it all and it was the most beautiful music. He let his tongue swirl faster when he heard your breath hitch, gripped your thigh tighter when you let out that beautiful exhale. 

“So fucking good for me,” he mumbled into your inner thigh in between licks, fully pussy drunk and ready to stay here forever, “fucking perfect.”

After some selfish exploration, he settled on a steady rhythm against your clit, making your back arch and whines jump an octave. 

“Eddie, Eddie,” you groaned, feeling embarrassed how needy your voice already sounded, “can you use your fingers too, please.” Desperate. That’s how you felt, and you couldn't help but be self conscious for any more than a moment, as he immediately headed your request. 

Guitar fingers. You fucking knew it. You always found him attractive and charming, but immediately scolded yourself the moment you started speculating about those damn fingers. If he could learn Metallica solos in private, what else could he do?

Curling upwards in that magically delicious motion that had you already seeing stars, he glanced up at you upon entering and was met with the glorious sight of your mouth hanging open and eyes fluttering shut. 

You simply couldn’t be bothered by the rickety van floor beneath you, the sad lumpy pillow propped under your head, or the stagnant, vaguely cigarette scented air around you. Nope. No thoughts other than the tightening knot in your stomach and how those pretty brown eyes peered up through too-perfect lashes at you in between sinful strokes. 

“Making me feel so fucking good,” you hardly recognized your voice as your own, “please don’t stop, Eddie, please…”

And there it was, euphoric bliss found in the back of a pot dealing metalhead’s van. Your thighs quivered and your brain lost all capacity for thought. All you could feel was the sudden wash of pleasure, the pulsing between your legs, and the tongue and fingers fucking into you as if it was the last thing he ever did. 

Writhing, trying to keep your moans down despite his verbalized promise for them to be heard far and wide, you try to control the jerk of your hips and grip on his hair. You rode out your orgasm, far sooner than you would have liked. You wanted to revel in it. 

After months of relentless flirting and suppressing your attraction to him, you wish you could have held your orgasm off a while longer. You simply couldn't allow yourself to bask in the velvet of his tongue or the tickle of his bangs on your thighs. You needed it too badly to hold off. 

Coming down from your orgasm, a broken moan cracked from you and let him know to slow his roll. In between catching your breath you catch a view of him sucking your release off of his slick fingers, and almost throw yourself at him, beg him to jump your bones. But all you can do is let out a breathy laugh and find the strength to prop yourself up on your elbows to get a better look at him. 

“You come?” he asks, slight snark to his voice.

You muster up the energy to bop him upside the head and ruffle his hair along the way. “Fuck off,” you respond, still breathless, “you know I did.”

“I know,” he cocks his head, still admiring your form, your flushed face and rise and fall of every breath, “It’s polite to ask, though.”

“Ah yes, Eddie Munson, most polite man I know,” you flop back onto the mismatched pillows.

“Hey!” he pretends to sound offended but only manages to tug at your heartstrings, “I’ll have you know, that I am a delight.” 

“Can’t argue with that,” you reach down to feel your dripping folds before hunching forward to search for your underwear, which haven't traveled too far from his knees on the van floor.  

You wanted to return the favor, do more than return the favor, but something about his shift in demeanor and the way he angled his body away from yours slightly to adjust his hard cock in his pants and keep up the too-casual post-orgasm conversation had you thinking it was more than him being too polite to accept your advances. 

“Shit, what time is it,” he begins to shuffle towards the front of the van to check the time while you awkwardly gathered your clothes and redressed, fully assessing that whatever fooling around in the back of this van you were doing was officially over. 

“I, uh, have a few errands to run,” he sounded apologetic, not like he was making some excuse to get you out of his hair, “I can drop you off, or you can come along for the ride…”

There is was, your affirmation that he was just as desperate to hang onto this moment together as you were. 

“I actually have a shift starting pretty soon,” you regrettably admit, “and as much as I’d love to ditch it and be your passenger princess, the Saturday tips are usually the bulk of my rent money so…” 

He understood, he hated how much he understood. 

“What time do you get off?” He didn’t even try to hide how eager he was to see you again, again in ten minutes, again later tonight, again tomorrow, again as many times as you’d let him. 

“Get off? Pretty sure I did that like three minutes ago…” you joke and appreciate his huff of a laugh, “Um, I’m closing, so probably not until like two or three. Don’t worry though, I can give you my number and we can do this again when we’re both free.”

“I’m free later… at two,” his expression was dead serious, “or three, or four, or whenever.” He noticed your brows shoot up and words start to form in your mouth, before you could speak he cuts in, “If you won’t be too tired or anything. I can pick you up?”

“It’ll be pretty late Eds,” you were falling into the trap of his puppy dog eyes, “you don’t need to wait up for me like that, I promise we can see each other again, tomorrow even…”

“Tell me to fuck off if I’m being pushy,” he took your hand in his and mindlessly stroked circles into it with his thumb, “but I’m sort of a night owl, not big on the whole sleeping thing anyways, and I’d love to pick you up from work later.”

“Okay,” you agree, the soft earnestness of his voice snared you, and considered the magic he had just worked between your legs, who were you to say no. The glimmer in his eye and quirked smile at your response had you wishing you had said more than ‘okay,’ wondering what kind of look you would have gotten from a ‘yes, please,’ or ‘I’d love that.’

He drove you back to his trailer, not letting go of your hand during the ride, not even to turn up the music at his favorite parts. He offers to follow you back to your place, insisting that waiting for you to shower and change into work clothes and then drop you off at the Hideout was “on the way” to these supposed errands he had to run. 

You roll your eyes but start to accept that this is the kind of guy Eddie is, insincerity undetectable when he makes these offers. You invite him in, but he opts to wait outside with a cigarette, pacing a bit and then forcing his legs and mind to still by waiting in the drivers seat. 

“Hey hot stuff,” he wolf whistles as you exit your apartment, dressed in your usual black shirt and jeans for work, apron balled up in your bag to put on once you arrive. 

He’s sweet, and sincere. As much as you liked the jab banter between the two of you at the bar, you think you might prefer his sarcastic jokes mixed with sweet compliments and longing gazes more. Not that you weren’t getting that from him at the bar before, there were plenty of longing gazes there too, but now the shared glances are heavy with the knowledge of what his tongue feels like on your cunt. 

A sloppy, exaggerated kiss on the cheek and a ‘go get ‘em tiger’ sends you off into the bar, where your hands will be pouring cheap liquor for the next several hours but your mind will be solely occupied with what your post-work date with Eddie entails. 

The drink special of the night was a mix of anxious anticipation and lustful yearning, shaken too aggressively and served with sunsteady hands. Luckily the Saturday rush kept you mostly focused on vodka sodas and Guinness pours, wiping down sticky surfaces and making change for impatient customers. 

You had assistance behind the bar, and that also meant assistance closing up, finally allowing yourself to start peeking through the window to see if Eddie held up on his promise. Of course he had. He’d been waiting in the lot, scoring a few sales from exiting patrons who knew him previous deals, since long before the bar closed. 

You wipe your sweaty palms onto your apron and ball it up into your bag before bounding across the parking lot towards Eddie, who always seems to have this effortless charisma buzzing around him, a cigarette dangled from his pretty lower lip and posture just slouched enough to still be sexy. Maybe you were biased at this point. 

He pulls you in by your waist, angling his chin up to blow the smoke up into the sky rather in your direction. 

“How was work?” Your cheeks were already starting to grow hot at the feeling of his pinky finger landing on the strip of skin between your shirt and jeans, “Miss me?”

“Bartending’s a lot easier when I don’t have your nosy ass pestering me for free drinks,” you cock your head at him, silently asking for a drag of his cigarette, which he immediately understands and complies, “wasn’t too bad though, happy it’s over,” you exhale. 

“If you’e hungry there’s some fries and a milkshake by the passenger’s seat,” he let you slip from his grasp to spin around towards the van door.

“For me?” you peek through the window, realizing he didn’t just mean extras from his dinner earlier, he had gone out of his way to pick you up a post-work snack.

“Unless you aren’t hungry,” he moves to hop in the drivers side, “In which case you can practice tossing fries into my open mouth while I drive.”

You let a few fries fly across the car seat in his general direction, feeding him the occasional one directly, but inhaling most of them shortly after you peeled out of the parking lot. 

“D’you want me to bring you home, or…” you knew where he was headed with this, a nervous edge to his voice. 

“We can hang out back at your trailer if that’s okay,” you say mid-fry, “as long as I can take a quick shower I don’t mind chilling there.”

He grins like a giddy schoolgirl and grips the steering wheel just a touch tighter, and drives just a bit faster back to the trailer park. As anxious as you felt during your shift, you can’t be bothered to overthink with Eddie leaning towards you with his tongue lolling out of his mouth, making googly eyes at the shake you were downing as his way of asking you for a sip. 

He put the van into park before the wheels had even come to a complete stop, hustling around the front to make sure he was the one to open your door. He had spent some of the time you were away straightening up his trailer for the first time in a good long while. Empty beer cans were cleared and he even changed the bed sheets. It still wasn’t the Ritz or anything, but at least he can say he tried.

He tried to busy himself with locking the door behind you after entering, not wanting to see if your eyes drifted over to the mess of records and smoking pariphenelia that cluttered the coffee table, or the chance that the mixture of heavy metal and nerdy posters strewn about would draw a judgmental reaction. 

When he let his gaze drift back to you, you weren’t looking at any of that. You were looking right back at him, already leaning up on your toes and asking, “Can I kiss you again?” 

A mumbled “of course” had you wrapping your arms around his neck and melting into his touch, finding his lips already on yours before you could go in for the kill. 

The kiss started off French-fry-and-strawberry-shake flavored, smiling into his lips as the anticipation of seeing him again after only a few short hours slips away. 

“Thank’s for spending so much time with me today,” you whisper in between sticky sweet kisses, “and for the fries and-“

He took your cheeks in his hands and smushed your lips into his mid-sentence, pulling back to see the puckered fish face he held between his hands. 

“You’re welcome,” his big button eyes bore straight through you, as if he saw all of you and more, “but you don’t have to thank me, I like being with you, and I ended up eating most of the fries anyways,” he trails off, cheeks rosy and lips slick from your claim on them.

“You wanted to shower?” He cuts himself off, and feels stupid for it. He knew he could keep kissing you and kissing you and kissing you, and the only thing holding him back was his anxious brain and big mouth. 

“Oh, yeah,” you were a little surprised that he remembered, and chose to bring it up now, “if you don’t mind. I always feel a little sticky after work, you know, with the Hideout’s C health rating and all.”

With a smile that nearly knocked the air out of you, he took a deep bow like some silly court jester and motioned down the trailer’s only hallway. You took your lead and followed his outstretched arm, figuring there were only so may doors that could possibly lead to a bathroom. 

“Oh, shit, wait,” you hear him scramble behind you, shuffling past into the door you assume to he his bedroom, emerging milliseconds later with a crumpled towel in his balled up hand, “you’re gonna want this.”

“Thank you,” you’re slow with your movements, wondering how he was acting so squirrelly, like a middle school boy around the girl he wanted to take to the dance, even though he had you fully spread out begging for him in the back of his van only hours earlier, “is the shower big enough for two?”

You meant it equally suggestive and genuine, knowing full well that not all showers are built for partner bathing. However, the fear stricken look that washed across his face for a millisecond before scrunching up and setting to neutral had you thinking you had just asked if there was a built in hot tub or something like that. His mouth hung open and for a moment that conversation you weren’t supposed to hear replayed in your mind, maybe you had to take this slower than he was willing to let on. 

“Just looking for someone to massage my scalp, that’s all,” you try to jokingly play it off, keeping your invitation open but concealing it with a joke to double back on just in case.

“Yeah, it’s- uhhh,” Eddie, who was always quick with a comeback was suddenly lost for words, “It’s the size of a normal shower, yeah.” It’s not like he could lie, all you had to do was turn around and size it up for yourself. 

You take the towel from his white knuckled grip and pivoted towards the door that was close to having burn holes from where his laser focused eyes were shot. You give him a wink over your shoulder, figuring that was enough of an invitation and vague enough of an excuse for him to leave depending on what he wanted. You hated this line you were towing, knowing more than you should- yet still feeling so in the dark. 

He was right, it was a normal sized shower. A bathtub with a sliding door and a detachable shower head with only one working setting. There was a rack with three-in-one and a bar of dove soap, which should have annoyed you but made you giggle instead. You let a quarter sized drop of the generic body wash slash shampoo slash conditioner lather into your hands when you heard the bathroom door creek open, purposefully left unlocked. 

“Hey, is it okay I’m in here?” He sounded so genuine in his concern, unknowing you were on the verge of begging him to get in the shower with you. 

“Yeah,” you borderline shout over the running water, “here to help massage my scalp?” You let your tone stay light and joking despite being deadly serious. 

“Wow I didn’t realize your hands were really that delicate and incapable,” he tried to match your energy, but an anxious edge remained present. 

“I mean,” you searched for your words, “I’ve seen you play Metallica, I know those fingers could surely get this pine scented crap deep into my roots.” You let the suggestive comment linger, nervous after a beat of silence passed. 

“If you really need my help,” you heard him shuffling around , “who am I to turn a damsel in distress away?”

You felt your cheeks get rosy and shoulders wiggle with excitement as you caught the shower door jerk open. Your face was towards the shower head, and you only turned a quarter of the way around before Eddie stepped in behind you and those guitar-string-calloused-hands gripped your shoulders and twisted you back towards your view of the water stream. 

“I’m gonna make you a deal,” his voice was coated with as much charisma as he could muster, his worries only poking through enough for you to notice, “I’ll give you the full treatment, but you can’t turn around.”

You were willing to play along with about any game he suggested. If he asked you to bend over backwards you’d extend your spine as far as it could go. 

You stood with your front as straight towards the shower head as you could, only feeling his presence behind you and his gentle hands lay on your shoulders to assure you wouldn’t turn around. 

“Just let me take care of you,” he edged closer, letting you feel his naked body enter your space, his face craning over your shoulder to gauge your reaction, “Just stay like this and let me feel you.”

It was less of a question and more of a plea, the only thing more pathetic sounding was the whimper that slipped out of you when you felt his body press against your back, warm and hesitant to press all the way into you, but close enough for you to feel his skin. 

“Okay,” you let your head lull back onto the space between his collar bone and shoulder, keeping your eyes closed, not that you could see anything from this angle anyways, “I’ll stay just like this, promise.”

“I just-“ you could hear his walls come up, suddenly trying to find the words to explain himself to you, “I’m not-“

“Eddie,” you whisper, eyes fluttering open to glance up at him as much as you could, “it’s okay. I’ll stay just like this, I’m just happy to be here with you.”

You gently found his hands resting at your hips and guided them up to your soapy scalp, “We both know the real reason I called you in here anyways,” you joked, and angled your head straight forward so he could run the pads of his fingers all through your 3-in-1 coated hair.

He let out a light chuckle at your joke, nearly feeling it catch in his throat as all the passed time of insecurity and locking his feelings away welled up and shattered with the intimacy of washing your hair. What did he do to deserve having you like this? For you to understand and want him to stay anyways? 

As much as his emotions clouded his vision and stunted his breathing, the rush of blood in between his legs broke his internal monologue. As overwhelmed as his mind was, his body couldn’t be convinced to focus on anything other than the sudsy girl pressed up against him, letting out little noises of satisfaction as he let his fingers absentmindedly massage away. 

“This’s nice,” you lean back into him a bit, “it’s like masturbating, you know? Always feels better when someone else does it for you.” You didn’t feel too guilty about the sexually charged comment, considering the fat rod that was pushing into your lower back. 

He let out a short chuckle, but his breathing was rapidly turning heavy as the air clouded with steam and your wet body rubbed against him, fully arching into his erection as if you wanted to get a better feel. 

“Can I wash the rest of you?” his request is polite, but his voice is lust filled and bordering on begging. 

You hum in agreement and lift your arms to let him slip his hands around you, one crossing your chest and the other reaching around to get more gel, “It technically is shampoo and body wash, and I was promised the full treatment here.” 

As much as you wanted to keep joking with him, finding silly things to comment on to break the tension, your resolve was quickly going down the drain as his big hands lathered you up. 

“You’re so beautiful,” his voice is just audible over the rushing of the shower water, “I’ve always thought so, but now I fucking know it.” 

His warm breath against your ear manages to cut through the heat of the steam, making you shiver despite it all. “Eddie,” you whine, his hands running up and down your torso, spending more time on your chest than the rest, but surely showering you in as much attention as his hands could reach.

Knowing that tone from earlier, already committing to knowing your body as intimately as you’ll allow him to, he immediately gives in and touches you exactly where you want him most. 

Most of the bubbles had dissipated, and he held you close to him, with one hand splayed across the center of your chest and the other dipping down to run two fingers through your now parting legs. 

He could feel the slick of your folds, standing out from the water cascading down your body, so warm and wet in a different way. 

“Fucking hell,” he groans out, letting his hips roll forwards slightly to find some friction against your backside, sliding his fingers from your hole up to your clit a few experimental times before letting his middle and ring fingers dip into you. 

When he had gone to town on you earlier in his van, which somehow felt like a million light years ago, you had taken a keen interest to the way his metal rings brushed up against your inner thighs and lower lips when he slipped his digits into you. As much as you had reveled in that new sensation, he had taken all his jewelry off along with the rest of his clothes and reservations before joining you in the shower. And now you could grind down onto his hand until he was completely buried to the hilt of his knuckles, no demon heads or upside down crosses in your way.

You wanted to wiggle and writhe around, feeling a bit week in the knees and desperate to buck your hips down against his pumping fingers. He pressed your chest tighter against him, lips pressed up against your ear, “I thought you promised to be good and stay still for me.”

He could feel your pussy clench at that, letting out a satisfied chuckle and  plunging his fingers right back into your cunt, letting the meat of his palm massage your clit in perfect time. 

“S’ this what you wanted,” his voice had the full bodied confidence of a man who didn’t just ask you to not turnaround to see him without a shirt on, “for me to be all sweet and wash your hair, then make you cum on my fingers like the dirty girl I know you are?” 

The smallest fraction of you wanted to be a brat and joke back at his silly use of shower innuendo, but your mind was almost entirely committed to the feeling of his hands on you and his dick rutting Into the meat of your ass.

“Eddie,” you could barely squeak his name out, “Eddie, can I touch you too, please? Please?” While his voice had been pleading before, you were literally begging to get your hands on him. 

“Like this,” you manage to open your eyes, head still resting against his shoulder and your hand snaking back to where his cock pressed into you, not fully grabbing it but motioning towards it with your hand. 

He snatches your wrist up with the hand not occupied with your tightening pussy, and for a second you fear that you had crossed a boundary. 

As much as you were willing to comply with not looking, you were bursting at the seams to touch him, make him feel good, show him how much you wanted to be right here with him and nowhere else. 

Before your mind could race any further, come to a screeching halt and apologize, he guides your hand up underneath your chin and demands “Spit.”

Your short circuiting brain dashes from his fingers, remaining crooked inside of you, his request, and the tone of voice he used to ask. You were fucked. Drool leaks from your lips before you even have the chance to process his words other than the immediate feeling of oh fuck yes. 

He brings your spit coated hand back to reach around, allowing you to wiggle it in between your wet bodies and find his eager cock already arching into your touch. 

He only faltered for a moment, the consistent dizzying pace of his fingers inside you stuttered the moment he felt your slick palm take an experimental stroke. The moan he let out was involuntary, along with a breathy “Oh, shit.”

Obviously you couldn’t size him up visually, but the weight of him in your palm was enough to have your mouth watering and thighs squeezing his wrist a bit tighter. Uncut? Maybe? With a pretty patch of curls to match his mop top? 

“Just like that, please,” you whine out into the steamy air, the two of you finding a joint rhythm between your hands and subtly rolling hips. 

“Your pussy feels so fucking good, so warm and tight for me,” every other word slurred into the curve of your neck. 

“You’re gonna make me cum,” you try and match his increasing speed with your hand, “Eddie, please don’t stop, I’m-“

“Shhhh,” he was getting lost in it too, “I’ve got you.”

Your legs turn to jelly, but he keeps you steadily upright with his support on your chest, focusing entirely on you despite the welling orgasm of his own rapidly approaching. 

It’s the crack in your voice that pushes him forward, the high pitched breathy moans crumbling and releasing the noises of pleasure from deep within your chest. His name  mixed in with ahhhs and uhhhs as if his name is the only word you know in this moment. 

“That’s right,” a sense of confidence welled in him as your limp body twitched against his and your cunt squeezed his relentless fingers, “cum all over my hand, doing so good for me.”

Despite your orgasm wracking your brain and body succumbing completely to whatever Eddie was willing to give you, the thought of collapsing into the shower floor never crossed your mind. He held you so close and steady against his chest, it crosses your mind that you may not be putting any weight onto your feet at all by this point. 

Rather than catch your breath as you come down from your quaking orgasm, you slip deeper into the throws of pleasure, biting your lip and craning your neck backwards so he can see the fucked out expression on your face. A few more steady, enthusiastic pumps mixed with a desperate kiss, wet and at an awkward angle, breathless and needy, perfect and dizzying, sends Eddie over the edge with you.

The deep rumble of his chest against your back as he groans into your open mouth, encourages you to keep your pace as he gently fucks himself into your hand. He’s spilling into your hand and halting his wiggling fingers buried inside you, letting the momentum that the two of you had built up come to a pulsing end. 

The two of you stay tangled in each other for a moment, hands sticky and brows dewy with sweat despite the running water, which had long lost its heat and now settled at a less than comfortable lukewarm. Neither one of you wanted to move. Eddie would have stayed there until his legs cramped and the shower turned ice cold. 

His eyes were screwed shut, head tilted back, still holding you close until you wiggled from his iron grip to bring your cum covered fingers up to your lips to suck two of them clean. 

“Jesus Christ,” he was thankful that he had opened eyes in enough time to witness that, “You’re gonna fuckin’ kill me, you know that?”

You let out a mischievous giggle with his cum coated fingers still in your mouth, glancing over your shoulder to catch the look on his face. Equal parts hungry to pick you up and fuck you against the shower wall right now, and melting down to nothing and slipping away down the drain, unable to even start comprehending what had just transpired between you two. 

You let your fingers go with a pop and turn back around, “Don’t act like you weren’t going to do the same,” you let the chilling water hit your face, focusing on anything other than turning around and lunging at him, wrapping your body around his and letting your skin melt into his. 

He gives into temptation and lets his pruny fingers meet his tongue. He knew what you tasted like from your escapade in his van eaierler, but he’d seize any change he got to take in as much of you as he could. 

“That was,” he started, unsure how to sum how he felt, good, great, perfect, none of those words felt correct, “fuck, yeah- that,”

“Me too,” you press your back into his again, “Thank you Eddie.”

Before he can stumble over his words any more, you ask if he’s okay for you to shut the water off, and you ask if he’d be willing to spare some sleep clothes for you to borrow. You curiously stay in the shower while he takes your excuse for him to leave unseen. 

After toweling off and slipping into the old t-shirt and boxers he left folded up on the counter for you, you found him already dressed and in bed, set criss cross and packing a bong. 

“Post-shower-orgasm smoke, cuddle, then sleep?”

“I’d love nothing more,” you get cozy among the pillows and let the swirling smoke and easy conversation lull you into a comforting half sleep. 

An easy energy settled between the two of you, a silent understanding that you weren’t going to ask him questions, and a building comfort that made him almost ready to show you. 

You slept tucked into his side, and didn’t even mind his snoring or tossing in the night. Every time he rolled over, your sleeping form just found a new way to mold into him. It was the best he had slept in months. 

A steady stream of sunlight blazing directly through the blinds and into your eyes pulled you from your slumber, gorging your groggy eyes to open and crunched up limbs to search for room to stretch. The involuntary fluttering of your eyes and long extension of your libs was far beyond your control. 

“Oh!” You whisper out to yourself once your brain manages to catch up with your waking body, realizing the somewhat compromising position the night had thrown you into, your leg hiked up and clinging to Eddie’s waist, with both your arms scrunching up his t-shirt and leaving a strip of stomach exposed. 

A negligible, unnoticeable few inches between where his sweatpants hung low on his hips and where your gripping arms had balled up his hole-ridden t-shirt stood before your gaze. 

You didn’t mean to stare, and the moment you caught yourself doing so, you quickly and quietly removed your tangled limbs from his and repositioned yourself so that he was half spooning you, eyes facing far away from his unintentionally exposed scar tissue. 

You knew it was probably going to be worse than you were expecting. You hadn’t dedicated much thought to what it could be, or what maybe had happened. You just knew it made him feel like he wasn’t worth your time, and you needed to make him feel seen and safe enough to know that that couldn’t be true. 

Everyone has insecurities, sure. There are surely parts of yourself you weren’t eager to share with the world, let alone someone you’re romantically interested in. You had moved past being astonished that someone who wore gaudy costume jewelry and sang boisterous music for a bar of twelve patrons with the energy of someone who had sold out Madison Square Garden would ever shrink into their shell the way you had seen Eddie. Now, laying in his bed and knowing that whatever it was, the scars were more than what was on his skin.

“Mfffmmm,” he groans and shifts behind you, wiggling beneath the sheets and snaking his arms to wrap around your waist and pull you close into him, “This is nice.”

His morning voice was scratchy and barely above a whisper. 

“I think you just like that my butt is all pressed up on you,” you joke, dodging admiring that you’d rather be here than anywhere in the world in this moment. 

“Yeah, I’m not complaining,” he digs his nose into the side of your neck, “But you smell nice too, ’s nice to wake up to.”

“That 3-in-1’s really doing it for ya?”

“No, you do smell like that a little, but more just like yourself. Girl smell.”

“I’ll get started on that perfume line right away. Girl Smell. Might be a million dollar business venture.”

“I just woke up,” the sleep in his voice melted away and his hands running up and down your sides were more deliberate, “Don’t make fun of me. Plus I’ve got a pretty girl in my bed making me all nervous.”

“Anyone with magic fingers like you has nothing to be worried about,” you keep the conversation playful but allow the unspoken truth, that he truly has nothing to worry about with you, be spoken.

“You just like ‘em cuz I washed your hair so well,” he plays with a strand, letting his finger pads dig into your scalp and scratch away, massaging a bit harder after you let out a satisfied groan.

“You must have lots of practice,” you reach an arm back blindly and half smack the side of his shoulder before finding his messy bedhead, staying resolutely facing the poster-covered wall. 

“You’ve got really pretty hair for a boy,” you let your finger wrap around a curl. 

“For a boy?! Excuse me, I have pretty hair period.”

“Yeah, suppose that’s true” you giggle at his joking defensiveness, “It’s incredible that it’s this nice considering you use the same thing to condition your hair as you do to wash your balls.”

“If you show me what kind of shower products you like I’ll replace the three in one,” he nuzzles his face into the hand playing with your hair, “but maybe the three in one is what’s keeping it so luscious.”

“I wanna wash your hair next time,” you say absentmindedly, meaning it wholeheartedly, with little anxiety after that you had implied a next time. 

“Yeah maybe next time,” his voice trailed off, still soft and flirty but edging on a tone that let you know this conversation was just about over. 

“Eddie,” it came out as hardly more than a whisper. You wait for him to respond but the gravity of the silence between you quickly became unbearable and you needed to break whatever tension this was. 

“I meant it yesterday when I said I wanted to go on more dates with you. You know that right?”

“Mhmm” he mumbles into your shoulder, still holding you against him.

“We have a lot of fun at the bar and stuff,” you search to find your words, “But I want you to know that I don’t just like you cuz you make me laugh and have magic guitar fingers. I like pretty much everything about you so far, and I want to know you more if you’ll let me.”

Your voice wavers, and your message is perhaps more vague than you would have liked, but the deep exhale he lets out conveys that he hears you loud and clear. 

“I know I’ve been…” he starts, “It’s just that I…”

“It’s okay Eddie,” you flip around, rolling so that your chests are pressed together and noses are almost touching, “I don’t want to push it. You can tell me when you’re ready, I just want you to know that I like you a whole lot and I don’t think there’s much that could change that right now.”

His eyelashes flutter shut, forehead touching yours, “Thank you.” 

“Unless you have a huge chest tattoo of something wildly offensive, or like a tramp stamp that says ‘I heart Ronald Regan.” He appreciates your natural ability to make him laugh even in situations like this. 

“Nah,” he pulls back and gives you a serious look, “Fuck Ronald Regan.” 

The two of you burst into a fit of giggles, rolling deeper into the sheets and settling into a comfortable cuddle again, with your head on his chest, face angled up to his and legs all tangled up.

Coming down from the beginnings of the conversation that had been lingering above both of your heads, you place a few reassuring kisses up his jaw and find your way up to his parted lips. 

“Mmmm,” he hums into the deepening kiss to signal you to stop, “I probably have mega morning breath,” he huffs into a cupped hand which makes you laugh and flop your head back into his chest.

“It’s okay, if you do then I do too and didn’t notice,” you peek back up at him, “But if you want to brush teeth and get your day started I won’t stop you.”

“No, no,” he grabs your cheeks and pulls you back up for a smushed kiss, “I wanna stay here all day with you, if you’ll let me. Our second date, we can order a pizza and watch movies here, won’t even have to put pants on.”

“That sounds really nice, I don’t have work today so I’m all yours.”

“All mine,” his grin reaches the apples of his cheeks, “I will go brush my teeth though, cuz I think this second date involves a lot of kissing.”

“Got a spare I could use?” you shuffle out of bed before situating yourself  on the edge of the bed, “Or do you brush with three in one too?”

“Oh my god,” he chuckles, “you with the three in one. After today I promise there will be three separate shower products stocked and ready for your use.”

He manages to find a spare toothbrush in the closet and keeps you wrapped in his arms while both of you take turns spitting into the sink. Looking at the two of you, eyes still crusty from sleep, in the scratched up bathroom mirror, a weird sense of domesticity washes over the two of you. 

Eddie realizes that less than 48 hours ago he was too nervous to make a move to kiss you, and now he was already thinking about making room for your toiletries in his bathroom. 

As comforting and easy it was to do normal everyday things with you at his side, he couldn’t help but notice your nipples poking through his oversized t-shirt you slept in and the way your toothpaste full mouth was framed by your perfect, spit slicked lips. 

“You got a spit kink or something?” You half joke, pressing your ass into the growing rod you could feel nudging against your side.

“Sue me,” he spits and wipes the corners of his mouth, pulling you by the waist into a minty kiss. “Bed? All day?”

“Mhmm,” you agree and lean in to kiss him again, standing on your toes and letting out a shriek of surprise when he scoops you up bridal style and travels the short distance to his bedroom. 

“Eddie!” You yelp out as he gently tosses you back into the pile of sheets. 

“I know I’m no Hulk Hogan, but moving guitar amps is pretty good strength and conditioning.”

“Shut up, you never help your friends carry the equipment.” You think of all the times you watched his poor bandmates lug their equipment after a show while he seamlessly flirted with you. 

“Not when you’re around, you’ve got me there.”

As promised the two of you laze around all morning, bowls of cereal in bed and a bowl of weed to accompany it, switching between fits of giggles and tangled in the sheets while a B horror movie plays on the little TV set propped up near the end of Eddie’s bed. 

He tells you about how he used to live with his Uncle in a trailer down the street until he saved up enough to start renting his own, the three attempts to finish high school and the relief when the local mechanic shop hired him despite his reputation around town as a satan worshiper. He talks a bit about his friends, some who’ve stayed in town and others who’ve long moved away. 

You listen attently, taking in every spared detail. In return he asks you about where you’re from, why the hell you had moved to a bumfuck town in Indiana to be a bartender. He assures you that you wouldn’t have liked him if you had known each other in high school and you laugh and tell him you were far from popular yourself. 

After inhaling a large pizza and running out of VHS tapes you demand a “post pizza bloated cuddle” to which he happily obliges.

“Wish we could do this every day,” he pulls you into him.

“Then we’d need a much bigger movie selection, and maybe body doubles to go do our jobs,” you don’t disagree, although lazy and uneventful the day felt perfect. 

“Don’t wanna go to work tomorrow,” he whines, holding you a little tighter.

“Me either, but we can’t be in this lazy cuddle bubble forever,” his hands came up to massage and scratch your scalp, which he now knew you loved, “but next time we’re both free maybe we can have that third date.”

“If I remember correctly, date three is when I finally get to kiss you,” he jokingly smooches behind your ear and down your neck. 

“Only if you behave,” you reply sarcastically, “you’ve been such a gentleman lately, but you’ve been pushing it mister.” 

“I’ve never been accused of being a gentleman before,” his voice trails off as he buries his nose into your neck, “Will you let me be a gentleman now, make you feel good?” His tone was suddenly dripping with lust, sending a rush of arousal through your already so-relaxed body. 

“Mhmm,” you agree and let your body mold back into his a bit more, pressing yourself against him and letting his hands start to wander.

You arch your neck around from your spooning position and search for his lips, your kiss starting out gentle but not staying that way for very long. 

“You’re just somethin’ else,” he breathes out in between heated kisses, his eyes big and round, earnest, making your heart swell.

“Can I make you feel good too?” you roll your hips into his erection, your breath catching in your throat when you feel it pulsing under his boxers and pressing into the space between your legs. 

You flip around to straddle him, not hiding your intention to grind yourself down onto his covered cock, moans from both of you interrupting the hungry exchange of tongues and lips.

A shaky breath grabs your attention and he finds the air to exhale out, “Can I fuck you?”

You bring your hands to his cheeks to pull him into a deep kiss, continuing to rock your hips against him, giving him words as well you mumble a “Fuck yes, please, please Eddie.”

He finds the hem of your shirt and slips it over your shoulders, the momentary break in kissing makes you whine. He immediately makes it up to you by paying delightful attention to your exposed chest, leaving sloppy wet kisses on every inch of skin he had access to, “fuck”s and “so perfect” breaking them up. 

You instinctively reach down in between the two of you to take his hard cock into your hand, still pressing your core against it, but taking the rest into your hand to stroke him over his boxers, the choked out moan that escapes him is the prettiest sound you’ve ever heard.

You’re losing yourself in the feeling of his weight in your palm, sitting up to see his gorgeous fucked out expression, pinched eyebrows and flushed cheeks.

He swore he’d died and gone to heaven, despite all his sins, with you above him, lip tucked in between your grinning teeth as you rubbed up on him. Fuck, there was no going back after this.

You lean down to resume making out for a moment, missing the feeling of his nose pressed into the side of yours and his too-perfect eyelashes brushing the tops of your cheeks. 

“We can, um-“ you catch your breath, hips stuttering as you find your words, “I can turn around. Or we can make a blindfold or something.” 

His heart swelled at the thought that amidst fucking yourself against his lap you still had the courtesy to think of his comfort, his obvious insecurity, the elephant in the room that he was so desperately trying to shoo away. 

“I want you,” his voice strangely steady, “and I’ll let you have me, no stipulations.” 

You nod with a “Please.”

“Only because, I plan on fucking you every chance I get,” his tone makes you clench your thighs, “So we might as well rip this bandaid off now, because if you’re going to be my girlfriend I don’t want you worrying that I’m hiding something from you.”

He flips you over so you’re now laying beneath him, eyes still glassy with lust and mind swirling with the words he’s just let out.

“I’m gonna take off my shirt now, and I don’t want you to pretend like everything is fine, or that you don’t notice anything, because that’ll be a thousand times worse, okay? I know it’s bad. It doesn’t hurt or anything, but I know it’s not easy to look at.”

With that he pull this black t-shirt off by the back neck collar, and bares his soul to you. You can tell he’s examining your face for a reaction, very carefully managing your facial expressions for his benefit. 

He was right, it wasn’t easy to look at. Only because it made you wonder what horrible thing had happened to leave half of his torso, hip, thigh, and what you could only assume traveled onto his back as well, left entirely torn away and scarred. 

“And-“ he cut off your wandering eyes with his words, “Don’t ask what happened. I’ll tell you eventually I just- We can’t have that discussion if we’re about to have sex.” 

You nodded with understanding, you knew better than to ask. 

You think that your snooping and seed of knowledge helped hide some of your shock, his comment about missing a nipple dampening your realization that he was telling the truth, the scar tissue running so deep that his entire pec was covered in a jagged pink , slightly mishapen scar tissue, and leaving his opposite nipple to stand alone on his chest. 

The one thing that did leave you in a bit of shock was half of a tattoo on his hip that abruptly ended where the scar tissue started. Some sort of zombie head, the black ink lines all coming to a halt when’re his skin had been injured.

You let a tentative hand come up, fearing he’ll flinch away, but he doesn’t. You touch his chest, feeling the textural difference as you let your palm run across his chest and down to his hip. 

“You know, I still think you’re super hot, right?” You try to assure him, but he only lets out a dry chuckle. 

“I mean it,” you sit up a bit, pulling your hand from its exploration of his skin and bringing it to your own chest, using three fingers to cover your left nipple, “you’d still like me, right?” 

The softness in his face almost made you jump up to wrap him into a hug, you wanted him to know that everything was okay and he was safe with you, whatever happened was in the past and he didn’t have to worry. Although the moment was emotionally charged, neither of you could ignore the fact that you were both ravenously horny for each other. 

“I’m sorry you felt like you had to hide this from me,” you pull his face down to yours, “but I’m glad you showed me, because I’m so fucking ready for you to ruin me.”

He lurches forward and lets his body weight collapse down onto you, your legs widening to wrap around his hips, arm and legs locking him against you. 

Feeling his bare chest pressed against yours, lips on your neck and hips rutting into your spread legs, has your head spinning. 

“Please Eddie,” you whine, “let me feel you.”

Without missing a beat he shoves the waistband of his boxers down just enough to reach his thighs, hard dick springing free in the little space in between you, and he snatches your wrist and shoves it in between your bodies without unlatching his lips from your collar bone. 

“Oh fuck,” you couldn’t see what you were grasping, just like in the shower, but you didn’t dare push him off of you to catch a glimpse. He was all over you, hands tangled in your hair, groans and whimpers hardly making their way out in between the wet sloppy kisses he spread across your neck and chest. 

He slips a hand down your body, gracing your ribcage with his fingertips, a stark contrast to how they suddenly part your lips and rub the pool of slick from your hole up to your clit. 

“So wet, this for me?” He quirks and eyebrow and sinks a digit into you, causing your mouth to open and hips to wiggle up to ask for more.

“Yes ’s for you,” you breathe out, wanting to give him some pushback, wipe the smug look off his face, but not finding an ounce of courage to do so. You just let your head lull back and eyelids flutter shut as he curls his fingers perfectly inside you. “All for you.”

You use your free hand to push your underwear as far down your hips as this position will allow, not wanting to shift your focus from the feeling of him on your lips, his pulsing cock in your hand. 

“Need you,” you gasp out, partially at the feeling of his knuckle deep fingers buried inside of you, and equally the fucked out look on his face looming over yours, eyes blown wide and mouth parted on the verge of begging for more, “Eddie, need you to fuck me, please.”

He sits up and removes his fingers from you, earning a wince and a whine. He helps crunch your legs up to remove your panties, leaving your legs raised and crossed over one of his shoulders. He takes a moment to kiss your ankle and tenderly run his hands down the length of your leg. He took the moment to take off his own boxers, leaving you both bare in front of each other for the first time. 

“You’ve got a pretty cock,” you complement him earnestly, it was pretty. He gave you a halfhearted scoff and an eyeball in return. “No Eds, I mean it. It’s big too, good thing you got me ready with your fingers. That and I’ve been soaking wet for you for like 48 hours now, so it shouldn’t be a problem,” you giggle. His shy smile tells you he’s willing to take the compliment. 

You let your legs fall from their perch on his shoulder and fall to either side of his hips, opening yourself up to him. He’s staring, mouth half agape. It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before, but to have you laid out like this before him, fully ready to give yourself over to him and wanting him wholly in return, how couldn’t he stare. 

You let your hand stroke up his cock, bringing his attention back to where the two of you nearly met. You angle him closer to you, you’re slowly pumping fist brushing against your own center. He snaps out of his trance and nudges your hand away, using his own grip to tap his thick cock against your opening. 

Tap, tap tap. His head meets your slick folds, hips jerking slightly with every tap.

“Don’t tease me Eds,” you push your hips forward and are only met with him rubbing his dick into the outside of your pussy, “want you inside, need it so bad.”

He want’s to be a bother and continue his teasing, watching your writhe and squirm, but he can’t find it in him to deny you, so he presses the tip in and gauges your face for a reaction, only finding babbling bliss and pleas for more. 

He’s sinking into you at an agonizing pace, craning down from his kneeling position above you to frame your head with bent arms and his lips on yours as you moan into each other’s mouths, him filling you more and more. 

Your hands are in his hair, keeping your foreheads anchored together, breathing in tandem. He finally sinks all the way down and you can feel it in your lungs. You wrap your ankles around his back and squeeze him into you tighter, not wanting him to move just yet, wanting to just feel how deep he filled you up for the first time. 

He lets out a shaky exhale and squeezes his eyes shut, “You were fuckin’ made for me,” he punctuates this with a subtle roll forward of his hips, lips falling into yours as if they had nowhere else to go. 

You let your legs fall back, unclasping his hips, and move your hands from his wild hair down to his thighs, pushing him to start fucking you. 

“Feel’s so fucking good,” you whisper into his mouth, your hands hardly assisting him anymore as he pumps in and out of your slick cunt, almost knocking the air out of you each time. 

He grabs your chin with the hand that’s not propping himself up, “look at me,” his pace doesn’t falter and your mind nearly turns to mush, “you’re mine now, yeah?”

“Yes Eddie,” it comes out as a broken sob, your eyes barely able to focus on him with how close he was, “all yours, only yours.” Your mind had barely made the decision to say the words before they had escaped your lips, a dumbfounded truth serum setting over you in your cock drunk state. 

You knew it to be true though, there was no going back after this, and you were willing to give yourself over fully, and accept anything he would give you. 

“Ahh, fuck” you let out after a particularly harsh thrust, fists now dripping the sheets beneath you. 

“So fucking good for me,” his hands now found purchase on your hips, setting a rhythm between you that only a musician could. 

Through glassy eyes you admire him. Curly bangs stuck to his forehead, frantically thrusting torso making his tattoos look like stop motion cartoons, and through it all the scars are hardly noticeable. If anything, they’re just another part of him, the person between your legs that you found incredibly sexy, insecurities and all. 

His perfect hands slid from your hips to your shoulders, now using the weight of your torso as leverage to fuck into you harder. His eyes bore into yours, searching for eye contact and finding your reassuring gaze that told him this was everything you wanted and more. 

“Yes, yes, oh fuck,” you babble out. His little grunts and whimpers send volts of electricity to your core and fog your mind with lust and desire.

He moves a hand down to meet your center, palm splaying across your abdomen and keeping you pinned to the bed, thumb methodically catching your clit with each thrust. He didn’t have to ask if it felt good, the rolling back of your eyes and mouth so wide he could see your molars were enough of an indication that he was headed in the right direction.

“Mhmmmm,” you could hardly form words, but smiled up through your fucked out gaze at him, wide beam and lust fulled eyes telling him that he couldn’t possibly be making you feel any better than you do right now. 

He leans back a bit, balancing himself on his thighs keeping his pace, thumb on your clit and eyes locked into yours. Through a groan he brings his unoccupied hand up to his face, biting down on the knuckle of his pointer finger, trying not to blow his load at the feeling of you squeezing around him. 

Of course, this only made him look hotter to you, and thus you flexed around his cock even tighter. 

Unexpectedly, he pulls out of you completely and before you can muster up the breath to complain, he’s dipped his lapping tongue against you. He fully buries himself into your cunt, cutting off the rhythm, of his cock with the somehow perfectly timed pulsing of his hungry tongue. 

You can’t help but cry out, arch your hips, and send a hand flying to his hair to ground yourself. Through frantic panting and wet slurping sounds you think you can make out a “just had to taste you.”

Completely breathless, you can hardly conjure a response before he’s plunging into you again, fucking into you deeply and capturing your parted lips into a passionate kiss.

Something takes over you, and you’re suddenly wrapping your legs around his hips and using some found momentum to flip the two of your over. Suddenly, you’re on top of him, his curls splayed around his pretty face and body laid flat beneath you. 

Before you had a moment to question yourself, you anchor your hands onto his shoulders and try your best to pick up the pace he had set earlier. Hips rolling and wet slapping sounds coming from between you. 

“Jesus- fuck,” he stuttered in his movements, unsure if he wanted his hands on your face or your tits or your hips or… they landed on your ass and he wouldn’t argue with his first instincts. 

“Eddie, I’ve wanted you like this for so long,” your words were breathy and mixed with lustful gasps, “always wanted to have you like this.”

“We could have done this a long time ago, huh?” He tries not to think about all the time wasted, and instead fantasies about all the making up for lost time you’ll do in the near future. 

“You were always giving me those eyes while you played with your band,” you looked angelic to him, face hovering above him, framed only be the poor overhead lighting and flickering VHS menu of the last film you’d finished, “I always wanted you, just wasn’t sure you wanted me like this too.”

Your statement was simple enough, but he knew what you meant. You wanted him more than a fuck, and that’s what he had been worried about all along. Now, to have you sunk down on his cock like this, telling him that you had been scared in the same way as he had, only made him roll his hops up into you and pull your cheeks down for a sloppy kiss to seal the deal. You were finally on the same page. 

Switching from a bounce of your hips, you lean back slowly and shift to more of a roll, keeping his cock buried deep inside of you while you gyrate your hips. Your arm extends back in between his spread legs to keep you stable, your torso finding its own rhythm in the midst of pleasure and fucking yourself onto his cock. 

“So fucking perfect,” he gasps out, hardly able to take in the sight of your body writhing and rolling above him. He manages to find bait of sense in his brain and brings his hand back to your lower stomach, thumb flicking over your clit with every thrust of your hips. 

“Oh,eddieohmygosh,” it came out as one breathy syllable, “pleasedon’tstopthat.”

He gently fucks himself up into you, matching your movements and not throwing you off of the sinful rhythm you’ve set, just managing too punctuate each bounce with the raise of his hips into yours and the increased pressure of his thumb on your clit. 

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he loves the way each breathy word out of your lips is matched with the beautiful bounce of your tits, “Eddie, you’re gonna-“

He doesn’t change a thing, the pressure on your clit, the arch of his hips, he would sooner die than rob you of pleasure or ruin this moment. Every moment he get’s to look at you, he thinks it’s the most beautiful you’ve ever looked, but he knows for sure that this one takes the cake. 

“Ahhh, I’m-“ you don’t  have to finish your statement for him to know you’re cumming on his cock, the pulsing squeeze of your walls and intense concentration from him not to bust on the spot, and rather to focus on the parting of your lips and the twitching of your hips on his. 

“That’s it,” he keeps his thumb on your clit, but lets up on the pressure as soon as he feels you jerk against him, “that’s my girl.”

You lurch down and wrangle him into a kiss, only wanting to feel his lips on yours as you come down from your orgasm. You’re still slowly rolling your hips against his, but focused more on the feeling of his cheeks under your palms and his lips on yours. 

“You okay?” He asks in between tongue tied kisses. 

“Yes, perfect, thank you,” you arch your back into him a bit, “ready for more.” 

Although you were fully prepared to bounce on his cock until he came, you were pleasantly surprised when his large hands surrounded your waist and hoisted you up off the bed. He wanted to try and keep his cock inside you, but accepted defeat as he managed to situate on the edge of the bed.

He shifted around you and situated himself in between your legs. You laid out, everything below the knees hanging off the edge of his hand-me-down mattress. He stood above you and lowered himself to land a few wet kisses on your breasts, his hard cock pressing into your needy center. 

He jerked you up by the underside of your knees, pressing your thighs into your chest and sinking down into your open pussy, causing a deep groan to emit from both of you.

Here he was, scars and all, standing above you and thrusting into you as if it was the last thing he would ever do, and he looked like an angel to you. 

More thoughtful than you may have initially given him credit for, his thumb finds your clit again and he politely, yet breathlessly asks, “Can you come again for me, pretty girl?”

How could you say no to that. You dumbly nod and throw your head back against the sheets, your hands balled up at your sides as he thrusted into you, grunting and moaning your name. 

“So fucking good Eddie,” you manage to squeak out, “You make me feel so fucking good.”

“Ah fuck, yeah, yes,” his voice nearly jumped an octive, signaling his release. “Where should I-“ he began to ask.

“Inside,” it came out as two syllables in-between breaths, “It’s okay you can come-“

“Fuuuuuck,” a strangled moan and a collapse of his arms, along with the delicious pulse of his cock inside you signaled his release. 

Before you could eve catch your breath, regain consciousness of the situation, he was reeling back and replacing his softening cock with two fingers. He latched his lips to your clit and began to suck in time with his finger’s replication of his cock’s earlier movements. 

“Oh my god,” you were truly taken aback, his face buried in your cunt and setting you back on track to your building orgasm. 

It didn’t take more than a minute and a half of him slurping your mixed releases from your cunt and bullying your g-spot with those damn magic fingers to send you hurdling towards orgasm number two, shaking and crying out his name. 

It wasn’t until your legs were truly shaking and your hand was searching for his forehead to push him away from overstimulation that he finally let up and let up of your pussy with a wet pop and a smug look.

“You come?” He asks again, just as he had in the back of his van. 

You don’t have the energy to respond, only roll your eyes and flip him the bird as you flop back down onto his bedsheets. 

He managed to get you a warm rag and a cold glass of water, stroking your har and asking if you felt alright.

“Feel perfect Eddie,” you say after a long gulp, “you took such good care of me, you always do.”

He stroked your hair and positioned the two of you back comfortably beneath his sheets. “Thank you,” he starts, but you cut him off with a kiss. 

“No, thank you,” you kiss him again, “for trusting me.” The look in your eyes could nearly make him melt. “You’re really something special Eddie, I mean it.”

“Special enough for a fourth date?”

You smack his chest and bury your head into his neck. “I don’t think we have to count dates if I’m your girlfriend now…”

Those dimples you adore perk up on his cheeks, and he bear hugs you, scarred chest and all. 

“What time should I set the alarm for tomorrow?” He asks with a sorrow in his voice. 

“How about never,” you roll over to trample him with another kiss, smothering his body in yours, knowing you’d be luck enough to have many moments like this soon to come. 

A/N: I'm sorry I have long lost the tracking of a taglist (crying emoji) don't want to bother anyone who asked to be added the last time I wrote a pic ten thousand years ago, so I hope this reaches everyone it needs to <3

[upon-a-starry-night]

Number Neighbors Pt.24

Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader

Natasha Masterlist Series Masterlist

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary:  When you catch sight of the newest trend going around you know you’re all but bound to at least try it, it was harmless anyway. What could possibly stem from something so little?

----

You were more than Nat could have ever imagined. Her conversation with you had been on loop in her mind for the past few days. The sound of your laughter filled her with so much warmth it was overwhelming. The way you talked about her like she’d hung the moon in the sky made her want to cry. Nobody had ever talked about her like that. 

And the way you looked at her God- your eyes. She had a scary feeling she would do anything you asked of her if you kept looking at her like that.

She’d wanted to tell you then and there who she was so she could confess how she felt. But the prospect was terrifying and when your friend called it felt like the moment had come and gone. When she’d finally regained the confidence to tell you, her eyes drifted to your shoulder and it got her thinking about what your life would be like if you were with her.

You would be in danger if anyone ever found out about you. She’d never let it happen, no one would ever get close enough to hurt you but- could you forgive her for what she would do to them if they tried? Would you be mad at her for not telling you who she was sooner? You called her incredible. Even with all the red in her ledger you looked at her like a saint. You and your words were magnetic.

It was scary how much she missed your presence now that she’d met you. Suddenly she understood why Clint was always so eager to fly home.

Walking to the kitchen, she pulls out her phone as soon as it buzzes, expecting it to be you. Instead she’s met with the Avengers group chat.

        Idiots❤:

MetalHead(Tony):

As soon as I get back from this

press conference in Paris we’re having

a meeting

Old Ice Cube(Steve):

Again Stark?

Science Nerd(Bruce):

Is this about the new compound or

that Government thing?

MetalHead:

The government thingy

…

Actually both.

Spy-der (Nat):

Again? Tony, We’ve already talked about this…

Clinton:

You should drop it Stark.

I don’t want this to end in a fight.

Old Ice Cube:

Bucky and I are firmly against it.

Jacket Stealer(Wanda):

You already know what the 

Government thinks of me.

MetalHead:

We’ll talk when I get back.

Toodles!

Nat rolls her eyes but can’t help the uneasy feeling about the situation. Tony needed to stop pushing such a big decision on everyone before her family gets broken apart…again.

~~~~~~

That party was one of the best decisions of your entire life. You’d gained three new friends and an unforgettable conversation with your hero. It was safe to say the entire week after the party you were in good spirits and nobody could make that stop. Your cheeks hurt from how much you’d been smiling as of late.

You can tell Nat’s been wanting to call you all week but if you’re honest you get too flustered everytime you even think of her voice. And you have a weird feeling that nags at the back of your mind everytime you think of it, like your brain is screaming at you but you don’t know why.

Not to mention you’re not prepared for another rejection of a meet-up. Calling is one thing but meeting in person is… even you don’t know if you’re ready for that. What if you weren’t what she imagined? What if she didn’t feel the same way you did? What if she sees you waiting for her and turns around and blocks your number and you’ll never know why? 

You’d been on a sort of high after meeting Natasha Romanoff and you’re scared of ruining it. Although you’re sure Nat would never intentionally hurt you. Your own fears are stronger than your desires so you stick to texting her and Nat seems to be respecting that.

Today though, you think you might have gained the courage to finally accept her call if she asks. You'll just have to avoid the topic of meeting to spare any awkwardness or aching in your heart. Plopping down on your couch and opening up your phone, you resume your active conversation with Nat with a confident smile.

          Nat🔪: 

Y/n🍦:

I smacked directly into the pole Nat!

It was so embarrassing!

Nat🔪:

I hope you know I’m laughing

Y/n🍦:

I wouldn’t expect anything less.

Nat🔪:

It’s New York Y/n, I promise no one

cares that much

Y/n🍦:

Tell that to the group of teenagers

Filming across the street

Nat🔪:

Wait one second-

Y/n🍦:

What are you doing?

Nat🔪:

I’m trying to find that video 

Y/n🍦:

Don’t you fucking dare!

I’ll strangle you through the screen!

Nat🔪:

Or you could just strangle me in real life?

You nearly choke. Your body split between blushing because of the implication and freaking out at the proposition. 

Y/n🍦:

Haha. very funny

Nat🔪:

Y/n.

Let’s meet.

Your heart leaps to your throat and you choke on it. At least that’s what it feels like. She wanted to meet you. You get up from your couch and pour yourself a glass of water, taking note of the way your hand shakes as you drink. Why wasn’t this cooling the heat that felt like it was suffocating you? Surely your mind was playing tricks on you, she was seriously offering to meet? 

Y/n🍦:

Wait wait-

Don’t get my hopes up.

Are you joking?

Nat🔪:

I wouldn’t dream of it

Y/n🍦:

If this is a trick I’ll cry

Nat🔪:

I’d never forgive myself if 

I was the cause of your tears

After all this time you’d practically lost all hope that you’d ever meet Nat in person, the last thing you expected was for her to be the one to suggest it. You almost want to laugh. Leave it to Nat to constantly subvert your expectations. You wondered what changed her mind.

Y/n🍦: 

Okay.

Nat🔪:

Okay?

Y/n🍦:

Yes. Let’s do it.

When are you free?

Nat🔪:

I have a meeting on Thursday so

Friday?

Does that work for you?

Y/n🍦:

Friday, yep, yes I am free.

You leave out the fact that you would cancel all plans and call out sick to work if you had to.

Nat🔪: 

That cute Plant Cafe on 6th at 4pm work for you?

You had no idea what cafe she was talking about but you would figure it out. If you were laying in bed yo figured you’d be kicking your feet and giggling like a schoolgirl.

Y/n🍦:

Sounds Perfect.

This was really happening. You were going to meet.

~~~~~

The two of you text throughout the rest of the week like normal but there’s something different about it. The energy is charged with something, something that fills your stomach with a dizzying heat. You were going to meet Nat. You have to scroll up and reread the messages every few hours just to make sure you aren’t hallucinating. 

Even your coworker seems to have noticed the shift in your mood and she asked if it was because of your girlfriend you just grinned even wider and shook your head. You couldn’t hide your blushing however, and at lunch, you were forced to admit that you might have a ‘sort of date’ to which your friend squealed and invited herself over to help you plan an outfit.

It was Wednesday now which meant you were two days away from meeting Nat and you were bursting with anticipation. Your friend laughs at your antics as she pours you a glass of wine which you gladly accept. The two of you sat down on your couch, a cheesy romcom playing in the background as you chatted about what’s been happening in your lives these past few months.

You’re enjoying getting to know her and exchanging embarrassing stories when she stops to observe you, a genuine smile on her face

“What?” You ask, you’ve not known her long but she already looks at you like you’ve known each other for years.

She shakes her head “I’m just happy for you Y/n.” When you don’t speak she continues “ You’re the happiest I've ever seen you lately. At first, I thought it had something to do with that boy that picked you up sometimes but now I see it’s something else”

You blush, you didn’t know you’d been so transparent before about how mundane your life would feel but apparently you’d been detached enough for people to notice. For a while, you’d forgotten that life didn’t have to be perfect to be happy. You didn’t have to be doing big successful things to say that you were living a meaningful life. Your life was meaningful from the moment you were born. You don’t know why it took so long and so many people helping you to finally realize it but you were glad you were finally here. And you were grateful.

Grateful for your mother for never being disappointed in you, your therapist for not giving up on you, Nat for making you want to try new things, Leon for helping you go to more places, and now grateful to your coworker turned best friend for helping you meet new people (and your hero).

Now thanks to everyone you’ve met you could be grateful for yourself. God you did NoT need to cry right now but your face was already getting warm with emotion. 

“I have been happy. I’ve been so happy it’s crazy. I didn’t know if I was ever going to get myself back out there after-” You hiccup and your friend rubs your shoulder reassuringly, nodding in understanding. 

“I know I haven’t known you long but I’m proud of you, Y/n” Her words make the tears you were trying so hard to hold back burst out and she quickly pulls you into a hug, caressing your back. The two of you stay that way for a while, a million things being said in the silence. After a while you pull back and wipe your eyes, a wet laugh escaping. 

“Alright alright, enough of this. Let’s go pick my outfit for my date.” Your friend laughs with you and clinks her wine glass against yours, following you to your bedroom closet.

~~~~

Thursday rolls around and you’re torn between excitement and nerves. Your stomach rolls every time you think about tomorrow and every time the clock ticks by another hour. Your friend had helped you pick a cute but casual outfit and gave you a pep talk about how hot you were and how lucky Nat was to get to meet you. 

The thought of her has you texting her early that morning, eager to see if she’s as nervous as you.

       Nat🔪:

Y/n🍦:

Good luck with your meeting!

She doesn’t respond immediately and you figure she’s already in her meeting so you go about your morning getting ready for work and texting your mother to reassure her that you were, in fact, still alive since she checked in yesterday.

You make quick work of a small breakfast and you’re out of the door and on the subway before you know it. When there’s still no message from Nat you scroll idly through Instagram until you arrive at your stop.

Work is as it always is, it’s made a little less hard these days because of your friends' presence but before you know it your lunch break is rolling around, and when you open your phone between bites of food your brows furrow in confusion. Your little message bubble is still the last thing on the screen but right underneath it are four little gray letters ‘seen’.

If it were anyone else you wouldn’t have been worried, but Nat hadn’t left you on seen for months since the two of you became closer. And considering how important tomorrow was for you it put you more than a little on edge. 

You try to shake your head, maybe you were being irrational? She could be busy or just left her phone open somewhere. Not everything is as big of a deal as you make it out to be but… there’s anxiety forming in the pit of your stomach.

Your phone alarm goes off signaling the end of your lunch break and you go back to work with a new unease in your gut. You’d wait until the end of the day to really start worrying. Nat wouldn't bail on you, would she? Both of you wanted this…right? Have you been reading things wrong?

Your coworker notices your discomfort and asks if you're okay but you just shake your head with a smile. It could be nothing.

 It was probably nothing.

Please let it be nothing.

~~~~~

When you finally make it home after a long anxiety-filled day your heart leaps in hopeful anticipation when you see Nat’s name pop up on your home screen, only for it to sink to the bottom of your stomach when you read her only message

Nat🔪:

I’m sorry.

Pt.25

A/n: Pls don’t hate me- I promise this hurt me to write as much as it hurt you to read ~Starry

---Taglist--

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[justmeinadaze]

Take It Out On Me Part 19 (Steddie X Plus Sized Reader)

A/N: Angst has once again entered the chat! Muahaha! No but for real this is angsty with emotions so proceed with caution. After talking with a few people I did forgo Steddie being intimate. Someone I talked to voiced my own concerns perfectly and I think it reflects in this chapter. Their goal is to protect the reader and make her feel good in every possible way. They don't see each other intimately in that way so it would feel out of place here. Thank you for all the people that participated in that poll and felt comfortable telling me their opinions!

This IS more an Eddie than a Steddie in this chapter.

Warnings: Daddy Steve and Sir/Master Eddie X Fem Sub Plus size reader, SMUT, Eddie wakes up the reader for sexy time, FLUFF, they love her, ANGST, lots of talk about Eddie and his trauma (child abuse), there not a lot of in-depth detail but he does talk about his feelings regarding his mother abandoning him and Wayne talks about the domestic violence she endured briefly and his feelings towards protecting his nephew. The boys do get into a fight with each other (verbally), Steve feels like he needs to protect the reader, Eddie gets a little rough with the reader in a sexual manner but Steve intervenes (very brief).

Word Count: 3853

The smell of cigarettes told you which one of them was on top of you, thrusting into you slow and deep as they jostled you from your sleep. 

“Mmm…Sir?”, you groaned as you tilted your head towards the slight panting in your ear.

“Fuck, baby. G-go back to sleep. I can take care of you.”

The grip he had on your wrists tightened as he pulled his cock back till just his tip was inside of you before roughly thrusting back in.

“Goddamn. I’m sorry, sweetheart. I—mmm—I couldn’t help myself. You looked so beautiful as you slept. I was just going to kiss and suck on your neck but…” You moaned eagerly as his pace quickened. “…your pussy was so wet, Y/N. It was like your subconscious…knew it needed me.”

“I-I always need you.” Eddie mewled louder at your confession. “I love you.”

“I love you to, princess. Cum with me, baby, please.”

Anytime either of them said please or begged you in anyway it always turned you on more. To be reminded that they need you just as much as you them is a comfort that just sends you over the moon. Releasing his hold on you, you wrap your arms around his neck as you both climax at the same time, suffocating your moans in his shoulder as he grunts into your neck.

Leaning back on the pillow, you snuck a cursory glance at Steve who was still sleeping soundly. Eddie followed your eye line chuckling as he kissed your lips. 

“Kid has always been a heavy sleeper, I swear. Do you need anything, sweetheart? Water?”

“No, Sir. I’m ok.” He grins as he rolls onto his back and you scoot closer to his side. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah.”, he exhales as his eyes start to close. “Like I said…I just…you looked so…gorgeous…”

Your own smile grew as you watched him try to form words as he slowly fell into a peaceful sleep.

***

“Daddy, you are going to burn it.”, you giggle as you sit on the counter watching Steve read the instructions on the back of the pasta box he had bought from the store. 

“How can I burn it? You just put it in the pan and let it simmer. Uh, what does simmer mean?” He turns towards the living room when he hears his friend snort out a laugh. “Shut up! Do YOU know what simmering is?”

Beaming at him, you tap his shoulder and turn down the heat on the stove. Eddie hurls his body over the back end of the couch when you guys hear a knock on your door that causes Steve to roll his eyes as you laugh. 

“Hey Wayne.”

“Hey. Um, can I come in for a bit?”

“Yeah of course.” The metalhead waves his uncle inside the apartment and as soon as his eyes meet yours you know something’s wrong. “Everything alright?”

Steve feels your body tense and promptly goes into protective mode moving closer to your side as he turns to face Wayne. He doesn’t understand why you’re on edge but he knows you are and that’s all he needs to put him in that particular headspace to keep you safe. 

“Um, sit down, son.”

Eddie’s demeanor finally caught up with yours as he straightened up his posture. “What’s going on, Wayne?”

“Did you guys know the fire made world news? Apparently, every paper wrote about it as a cautionary tale I guess. Since the world picked up on it, they’ve been following that suit those families filed against the mayor and his office. Uh…your names are in that deposition and they got a hold of it releasing the names of the people that were killed or hurt in the mall.”

“Ok? So, what’s the big deal?”

“Wayne…” All heads turned to you as Eddie’s uncle sighed. Jumping down from the counter, you made your way towards the metalhead with Steve cautiously trailing behind. 

“Edward, your mom called me to ask how you were.”

His eyes scanned over his uncle as the man slowly backed up towards the window he usually smoked at and lit up a cigarette. 

“What did you tell her?”

“I told her that you were hurt but Steven here got you out. I told her you both were doing better and you were happy.” You both exchanged another look before he continued. “She asked if she could talk to you…I told her that was up to you. She’s, um, coming down here in a couple of days. She wants to have dinner with you.”

You swore even though it was metaphorical you could still feel the wind of Eddie’s wall as it came up to enclose around him. 

“Yeah, welp, you can tell her I’ll pass on that.”

“Eddie…” His angry eyes swiveled in your direction silently commanding you to be quiet. 

“Son, I’m not going to tell you what you should do—”

“Good. Thank you for understanding.”

“BUT I think you should at least think about it. Maybe talk it over with Y/N and Steven here.”

“Wayne, I’ve thought about it. I thought about it since the day she fucking left. I’m not a little kid anymore and this choice doesn’t involve either of them. So, again, thank you but my answer is NO!”

The three of you exchange one final look before Wayne nods his head and Steve walks him out the door. 

“Eddie—”

“Y/N, I would advise you to rethink that before you fully commit to opening your mouth.”

“Don’t talk to her like that, Ed. She’s worried.”

The metalhead chuckles sarcastically as he takes a long drag before tossing his cigarette out the window. 

“This coming from the guy that talked down to her till senior year.”

“I grew up, Munson, and…I trust her.” Steve flashed you a soft smile before continuing. “Plus, I never did it to hurt her.”

“And I am?”

“You’re trying to shut her down so you can ignore talking about your mom.” Eddie shakes his head as he crosses the living room to leave but Steve quickly cut him off. “No. You forced me to talk about my dad when he flipped out and destroyed my stuff. I’m doing the same with you.”

“Oh. Alright.” The other boy threw off the hoodie he had been wearing and leaned against the back side of the couch as he crossed his arms. You turned off the stove and shuffled towards them but still out of the way. You honestly weren’t sure what exactly you should be doing or what to prepare for. You knew they would never physically hurt you like that but you weren’t sure if they would ever take swings at each other. 

“Go ahead, Steven. Play Daddy with me and tell me what I need to do.”

“That’s different, Edward, and I know you know that. As your best friend, I also feel like you’re making a snap decision.”

“Oh, you feel. I see. I didn’t realize she was your mother to. Tell me, how did you feel when she abandoned you with your dickhead dad? Did you keep hoping like I did? Did it crush you even after dad went in that she still didn’t come back for you? How did you deal with that garbage feeling of feeling like trash nobody wanted?”

“I know you’re trying to make a point, Eddie—”

“Y/N— “, he growls in warning.

“But you keep forgetting Steve does know what that feels like. That’s what he’s trying to tell you. He understands.”

Eddie gets that; he really does but you both can see how much he’s struggling with his feelings at the moment. 

“Move. Now.”

“I would give anything for my mom to stand up for me when it comes to my father. Growing up I just thought it is what it is but after the fire…Eddie, she didn’t even stay. He wanted to leave because Y/N stood up to him and she followed after him. So, yeah, I’ve felt that garbage feeling but SHE wants me.”, he gestures towards you. “Anytime I feel stupid or I feel like trash I remember we have her.”

Eddie’s glassy eyes met his for a moment. “Steve…move.”

“Let him go, Daddy.” He glances your way as you subtly nod and he does what you say, flinching as his friend slams the door behind him. Wrapping your arms around him, he holds you tightly to him. “You tried, baby. He’s calmer now then he was a few minutes ago. Let him think.”

############

That night you crawled into bed wearing the metalhead’s hoodie as Steve laid beside you gently caressing your face and hair. 

“Are you ok, Daddy? Do you need anything?”

“No, baby, I’m alright. I’m just worried about him.”

“Yeah…me to.”

You both fell asleep in each other’s arms until the loud stomping of boots woke you up a little after two in the morning. 

“Eddie?”, you called his name as you headed out into the living room, finding him in the kitchen chugging back a glass of water. His eyes widened when he saw you and he playfully threw his hands in the air causing the cup in his hand to shatter to the floor.

“Sweetheart! Na ah, it’s Master, baby. Goddamn, you always look sexy in my clothes.”

Steve skidded into the area assessing the situation and breathing a sigh of relief when it was just his friend. You, however, were extremely concerned as he drunkenly wobbled closer to you.

“Eddie, we were really worried about you.”

His palm reached out to gently touch your face before abruptly pinching your cheeks between his fingers. 

“Don’t make me say it again.”

The other boy started to move forward but your eyes never left Eddie’s as you held up your hand to stop him. He needed this. Eddie needed to be in control of something and you were always so willing.

“I’m sorry, Sir.”

His lips crash down on to yours and you winced at the strong taste of alcohol that clung to him. Forcefully, he turned you around and held your back as he yanked down your panties, tossing them aside. 

“Eddie, you’re not even going to lubricate her or anything?”

“Jesus Christ, Steve, I don’t hear the safe word coming out of her mouth and I assure you she’s probably wet enough. Now either shut the fuck up or go back to bed. She’s mine to. Right, baby?”

“Y-Yes, Sir.”, you whisper.

His ring lace fingers came down hard on your behind making you gasp. 

“Louder!”

“Yes, Sir!” 

As Eddie began unbuckling belt, Steve stepped in and shoved him away from you. “No! I don’t care what she says. You’re wasted and you have zero control right now, Eddie! I’m not going to let you hurt her. You want to take out your frustrations on someone do it to me!”

“Steve…”

“Y/N. No.”

“Yeah, Y/N. Daddy’s in charge, right, Stevie?”

“I’m one of the people in charge of keeping her safe even if that includes from you.”

“Oh, really, Daddy? She’s not safe from me right now?”, Eddie mocks. “Get off your high horse, Harrington. I’d never hurt her like that.”

“You also said you’d never leave her, Master, yet here we are.”

The metalhead growled as he glared at his friend. “I didn’t leave her. I went for a walk.”

“To a bar?”

“Am I not allowed to drink? I didn’t realize that was a rule we set up.”

“We agreed that we would be more open and talk to each other especially after the incident with Christian. She’s been worried about you all night! We both have.”

“Just because you saved my life, Steve, doesn’t mean you own me. I don’t fucking report to you. I’m not your fucking sub.”

The boy can’t help but laugh as he folds his arms over his chest. “Start acting dominate again and I’ll stop treating you like one.”

“You’re BOTH not acting dominate.” They turn your way to find you glaring at them. “Eddie, I understand that you are in pain and you’re afraid of talking to your mom—”

“I’m not afraid…”

“Don’t interrupt me!” He tilts his head as you sigh. “I’m sorry. Steve’s right. I’ve been worried about you and I know you’re hurting. You were right when you said this was your choice but we love you. Our opinion about this does matter. Just like with what happened when Christian came to town… And you.” You turn to address Steve. “Eddie and I can handle ourselves. He wants to go out and fucking drink he can but then he has to deal with the consequences like us being angry with him.”

“And while I AM both of yours, I know when to use my fucking safe word! You’re supposed to trust me, Steve. Those are Sir and Daddy qualities! Now, I am fucking exhausted so if you two want to keep fighting and picking each other apart then get the fuck out and do it somewhere else!”

With that, you stomp towards the bedroom and slam the door. 

“Jesus Christ, I love that woman.”, Eddie sighs as his gaze shifts towards his friend. “Look, I’m, uh, I’m sorry, Steve. You’re right. I should have stayed to talk to you two but I fucking panicked, man. I reverted back to junior year Eddie Munson.”

“No. Junior year Munson was an asshole but the way you were before you left and just then…that was different…angrier.”

“Yeah. Maybe more of a 10-year-old, Eddie. I know you didn’t really know me yet around that time but…I waspretty fucking angry.”, he chuckles as he takes a seat at the table. 

Steve heads for the fridge and the metalhead mutters a small thank you as he hands him a water bottle and sits across from him. The bedroom door flies open as you stomp back out, now wearing a pair of Steve’s shorts, and throw your body into the chair next to Eddie’s. 

“I can’t sleep without you guys and I don’t like going to bed upset.”, you grumble making them smile. Glancing between them, you realize the energy has shifted to a much calmer one. 

“That first night she didn’t come home, my dad was furious. He always accused her of cheating on him so he thought he finally had proof and kept talking about how when she got home she was ‘gonna get it’. After the second day, he went looking for her and came up with nothing. The third day, he went to the police station and they did what they could at the time but they assumed like the rest of the town did… that she ran.”

Your arm looped through his as you tangled your fingers with his own to hold his hand. 

“A week after she vanished, Wayne got a letter from her saying that she was safe and that she would come for me when she had things in order. I was so excited that she was okay and packed a bag, trying to be prepared for when she was ready. Six months passed and we still hadn’t heard anything. My dad drank and came at me more since she wasn’t there.” 

You clung to him tighter and in response he leaned down to kiss your forehead.

“One night, the fucker decided he was going to steal a car and go find her. An officer appeared at our door a few hours later with Wayne. When he went to trial, he didn’t even look my way…but I didn’t care because I thought ‘Hey! Now my mom can come home.’” Eddie chuckled under his breath before he continued. “It’s funny. I think even though I knew she was gone there was still a part of me that waited for her.”

“Did you ever stop?”, Steve asked in a gentle tone.

“Um, yeah…about two years ago when you came back from New York, Y/N. It’s going to sound fucking weird but…you left for two months. I kept thinking ‘Shit. She’s either not coming back or if she does she’s not going to want us anymore.’”

“Eddie…”

“But you did come back AND you wearing my jacket.”

“I wore your jacket the entire time I was there and fell asleep in Steve’s shirt. I wanted you two close to me.”

“Why didn’t she do that for me? We weren’t even technically dating yet, Y/N, but you still called and you came back. You thought about us enough to wear our clothes and bring us gifts. Two assholes, you barely even knew!” You softly smiled when he laughed until his shoulders shook and his laughter shifted to tears. “I was her fucking son.”

You climbed into his lap and hugged his head to your chest as he cried. Eddie’s arms hugged you tightly and Steve came around to do the same with you both as he leaned his head on his friend’s shoulder.

#############

“Hey, Y/N. Come in, come in.”, Wayne ushered with his hand after you knocked on the trailer door. “You know you don’t have to knock, sweetheart. You’re welcome here anytime.”

You grin at his kindness as you sit down on his sofa and wait for him to do the same.

“After some frustrated words and Eddie being Eddie…”, you chuckled and his uncle smiled. “…he asked me to make the choice for him to see his mother or not. He, uh, said he trusted my judgement and if I didn’t think he should go then he wouldn’t.”

“What did you decide?”

“I wanted to talk to you first.” His eyes widen in amusement as he tips his head towards you and smiles. “He’s only told me so much and I never push him. Last night, he told us about when she left and vaguely told us what happened with his dad between that point and when he ended up in jail.” You sigh as you look his way. “What was she like before she left?”

“Hm. She was a good woman or at least I thought so. She adored that kid especially when he was a baby. Lynn would always have him in her arms anywhere she went in the house. Sometimes she would sing to him and he would look up at her with those wide eyes like…” You laughed as Wayne mimicked his infant nephew. “As he got older, it became harder for her to hide my brother’s behavior. She tried her best, always taking Eddie out to the movies if she knew he would come home drunk or bringing him here to stay with me so she could go home and handle him. Honestly, Y/N, when I look back I feel like I should have known. The day before she left she asked me if anything ever happened to her would I look after Eddie instead of Allen. I told her of course, you know. I’d protect that kid with my life.”

“Wayne, why do you think she didn’t come back for him?”

He sighs heavily as he stands and opens his front door, lighting a cigarette as you wait for him to answer. 

“I don’t know. I really don’t and quite frankly…and selfishly… I was glad she didn’t after my brother went in. Boy’s life was hell for those six months and Allen never let me in. Every time I tried to check on Eddie, he said he was fine. That they were both fine and for me to butt out.” His sad eyes look you over as you come to stand beside him. “He doesn’t tell me about that time either and like you I don’t push him. Eddie gives me tidbits here and there for me to piece together some narrative but… I tried to give him a better life…do whatever I could to make up for what he went through.”

“You definitely did.” You softly smile in his direction. “I see a lot of you in him. He’s so sweet and the perfect gentleman.”

“Pfft, he better be.”

“More than anything I love how he sees me. Just like Steve, Eddie doesn’t see a weak, pathetic, nerdy fat girl. He sees a strong, confident, beautiful woman with extra curves.” Your grin grows when Wayne laughs. “You never saw a broken, bad little boy did you?”

“No. God no. I saw a good kid who, while he can’t still, has an active imagination and a good heart. I think that’s why him and Steven got along so well. The first time I met him, I half expected, well, Bill.”, he chuckles. “But he was extremely polite and wore his heart on his sleeve. All be it, a little to…”

“Aggressively?”

“You could say that.”, he smiles as he blows out a puff of smoke. “You, young lady, surprised me. The first time he told me about you, I didn’t think you were real.”

You couldn’t help but cackle at his assessment as you looked at him with confusion.

“Sweetheart, I swear to God, he described you like a one of his characters in his game. Like you were a princess locked in a tower or something! But over the last three years, I’ve watched him with you and vise versa. You’ve helped him in more ways than one and…I appreciate that.

You opened your arms wide as you leaned forward to give him a hug. 

“Thank you, Wayne. Not just for everything you’ve done for me but them to.”

***

When you came home, you found Eddie in bed with his headphones on as heavy metal blared into his ear while he drummed his fingers absently on his stomach. As you crawled onto the bed, his eyes shot open as he quickly removed the device from his head. 

“Hey. Hey. You’re home.”

As he started to sit up, you gently pushed him back down and laid your own head under his chin. His arms promptly wrapped around you as he moved some of your hair to kiss your forehead. You didn’t say a word as your eyes met his, staring at each other in comfortable silence. 

“I talked to Wayne today about your mom.” Your palm rose and fell against his chest as he sighed through his nose. “You trust my judgement and I trust his. Besides your dad, he knew her better than anyone. He’s…going to call her and set up a dinner at the trailer.” Placing your hand on his cheek, you caress his skin with your thumb.

“The three of us will be there to; Wayne, Steve, and me. After what he told me, I think you should talk to her but I’ll be damned if I’m leaving you alone with her.”

Eddie’s beautiful lips stretched into a wide smile as he leaned forward to kiss you. 

“I wasn’t going to hurt you last night. I promise I would never—”

“I know. I know, baby.”

“I’m glad Steve stopped me though. It’s very rare I push back into that particular headspace.”

“I’m here for you, Sir. No matter what.”

###########

@manda-panda-monium @sherrylyn628 @eddiesguitarskills

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@sidthedollface2 @justanotheryn @pedropascalslilbaby

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[cosmicanamnesis]

everybody loves a coffeeshop au

[part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [part 6] [part 7] [part 8] [part 9] [part 10] [part 11] [read on ao3]

October 10th

The first time the cute metalhead came into the Waystation, Steve was on bar and didn't catch his name. His order wasn't complicated, but it was long. Three medium black coffees, one small London fog, a large half sweet vanilla latte with soy milk, and a small hot chocolate. He'd paid in cash, leaving the change in the tip jar, and left in a hurry balancing the drink carriers on top of each other. If it hadn't been in the middle of a rush, Steve would've run around the counter and offered to hold the door for him.

Fortunately for Steve, he came in the next day, at the same time, with the same order, and Steve was on register this time.

"And can I get a name for the order?" Steve asked, punching the drinks into the computer.

"Eddie," the man said.

"Awesome. We'll have that all at the end for you," Steve said with a smile. Eddie dropped his change in the tip jar and wordlessly walked away. 

One of Steve's favorite parts of the job was getting to talk to beautiful people. Not everyone was, of course, but a few times a day a customer would come in with long curly hair or beautiful eyes or a charming smile and Steve would fall in love with them for thirty seconds and then usually never see them again and it was fine. It was fun. It was harmless.

Eddie had all those things, all the things Steve was a sucker for, but unlike all the others, Eddie kept coming back.

It took a month or so, but eventually everyone in the shop had either taken or made Eddie's order so many times that they all knew what it was and could start making it before he'd even reached the counter. Or rather, immediately abandon Steve and force him to make it.

It was fine with Steve, though. He didn't mind making long orders, and it gave him a chance to chat with Eddie, not that he ever did. If he were a little braver, maybe he would talk, maybe ask where Eddie works, maybe get the story on why he comes in alone every day to carry an entire office's worth of drinks out.

Maybe get his number.

But Steve wasn't braver, and instead of talking to him, he contented himself to just make the drinks and sneak glances whenever he could to admire the way Eddie's hair fell over his shoulders, the way his rings glinted and drew attention to his hands, the way he would sometimes stick his tongue out, just a little, if he was really absorbed in whatever he was doing.

Steve really wanted his number.

December 3rd

“Steve!” Robin yelled from the register. “Your boyfriend’s here!”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Steve huffed, but came up front anyway as the bell on the door chimed. “Hey Eddie. Usual?”

“Yeah, thanks,” Eddie nodded, handing Steve a wad of ones and fives. He dropped the change in the tip jar, like every day, and went to the end of the counter to wait. Steve watched him as he made the order. He wasn’t doing anything, just looking at his phone, but the cold outside had flushed his cheeks bright red and Steve couldn’t help but stare.

“Is it snowing out there yet?” he asked, putting lids on the plain coffees and popping them into a carrier.

“Huh? Oh, no. Is it supposed to?” Eddie seemed surprised that someone was talking to him, but he looked up anyway, slipping his phone back in his pocket.

“That’s what I’ve heard,” Steve shrugged. “Pretty much every old lady in here this morning has complained about their arthritis and the weather, so I just assumed.”

“Oh, yeah?” Eddie laughed, leaning on the counter. Steve wanted to listen to him laugh all day.

“Yeah,” he smiled. “Perks of the job, y’know? Never have to check the weather, just wait until somebody with a bad knee comes in.”

“I always thought that was a myth.”

“I dunno, man,” Steve shrugged again, sliding the drink carriers onto the counter. Eddie was smiling at him, wild curls framing his face. “They only had to be right a couple times to make me a believer.”

“Well,” Eddie said, carefully stacking the drinks on top of each other. “If it starts snowing later, I might start believing it too.”

Steve could’ve sworn Eddie winked at him on his way out.

“Oh my god, that was pathetic,” Robin said, reemerging from the back. “If you’re gonna flirt with him, just flirt with him. Is it snowing yet? Fuck off.”

“Wait, did Steve finally talk to that guy?” Chrissy, their assistant manager, poked her head out of the kitchen.

“Yeah, sorta,” Robin chided. 

“I honestly don’t know what you see in him, Steve,” Chrissy said, bringing a tray of pastries up front to put in the case.

“What? What do you mean?” Steve crossed his arms.

“Nothing! Just… He’s kinda weird, isn’t he? Like, standoffish?” She looked to Robin, who nodded. “I mean, you do you, but…”

“Wait, is this why you guys always shove me up front when he’s here?”

The girls looked at each other and then at Steve.

“Yeah, pretty much,” Chrissy admitted.

“You’re the only one that doesn’t mind him, so… He’s your problem,” Robin agreed.

“Proud of you for actually working up the nerve to talk to him, though.”

“Yeah, even if it was just about the stupid weather.”

Sure enough, it started snowing within the hour.

December 30th, Afternoon

Robin had begged Steve to swap shifts with her so she could go on a date. Normally Steve was an opener. He liked it, because he was naturally an early riser and opening meant more time after work to get shit done. But she had begged, and she was his best friend, so even though taking her closing shift messed with his whole routine, he agreed to swap. Plus, it meant he would have all of New Year’s Eve off, and that was pretty cool too.

It also meant accidentally finding out where Eddie worked.

Steve lived close enough to the cafe to walk there, and the walk took him past places that were usually still closed when he came in in the mornings. Antique store, jeweler, boutique, boutique, hair salon, tattoo parlor…

Steve took a couple steps back and looked in the front window of the tattoo place. Eddie happened to look up from whatever he was doing at that exact moment and gave him a confused sort of look. Steve just smiled and gave Eddie a small wave before going back on his way.

Well, it could’ve been more awkward.

[strawbrygashez]

Henry and Ralph Teen/Young Adult hcs bc why not :)

————————————————————————

•Once henry reached a certain age and point of not caring much about keeping his parents happy at all/being punished, he began to leave the house a lot more. He’d rarely ever be there and he sneaks out if he has to :/ He spends the majority of his time at Ralphs but he also hangs out around music/cd stores, comic books stores, and other friends houses.

He just started hanging out at Ralph’s so much to the point where his stuff at home slowly keeps all making its way to Ralph’s room lol like extra clothes, comics, cds, stuff for pranks, and etc.

I feel like in the beginning of him leaving the house so much, his parents would keep nagging him about it and punishing him but he kept on doing it anyways so they eventually gave up. They probably even start locking the doors when it gets dark but it doesn’t matter bc if he needs back in, he’ll get Peter to help him or he will find his way in somehow or another.

•Henry rarely ever cuts his hair. He only does so when Ralph goes on about how tangled it’s getting. He doesn’t care about it looking great tho so he’ll just cut whatever chunks he needs to out. So his hair is long but different lengths in some spots. His hair is always sticking out.

•Henry has such an internal struggle inside once he realizes he wants piercings. He’s still extremely afraid of needles no matter what age but since all of his music idols and the people him and Ralph hang out with in the music scene have them.. he finds himself wanting some of his own more and more.

He’d try fake ones for a while but after some teasing about how ‘fake ones are lame’ from some people, he tries to put his fears to the side so everyone won’t think he’s ‘lame’.

He’s learned a few techniques to somewhat calm himself down when it comes to needles and shots as he grew up but he still has a death grip on Ralph’s hand as he waits to get pierced.

(Over time I think he’d have maybe a couple. A couple ears ones and an eyebrow one maybe.)

•Ralph on the other hand has no problem getting piercings done so he has a few too. Plus he also has a couple tattoos which Henry helped design! :)

•Once Henry officially moves out of his parents place, he goes no contact with most of his family members. He’ll talk to Peter pretty often and will chat a little with the family members who actually treated him well as he was growing up but that’s about it. Whenever holidays come around, he only goes to Ralph’s relatives with him.

•Henry works on a lot of the design aspects when it comes to his band. He designs album covers and merchandise (though Ralph takes over a lot of the stuff that has to do with fashion, like stage outfits and band t-shirts)

•Henry eventually starts seeing a therapist because he knows he needs one and Ralph helped push him a bit to seek one out. He finally gets diagnosed with a couple different things only when he’s finally an adult.. which he feels kinda odd about since he realizes he went his whole childhood dealing with all these mental issues with no support. Like he thinks pretty often about how if they’d just tried to actually figure out what was going on with him, maybe his life could had been a lot easier and more pleasant.

•Ralph has to help Henry remember to take his meds and help remind him where they are. Which he doesn’t mind at all. Even if Henry makes a bit of a show about not wanting to get up and take them.

•Henry mostly wears grungy type outfits but sometimes will toss on something more metalhead-y for concerts. Ralph wears just a whole lot of fashion styles because he loves so many.

•The more ‘darker’ songs that end up on their albums are almost always written mostly by Henry. He had so much pent up for so long it all just comes out when writing ideas for songs.

I’ve seen a few times people say Ralph would try to make Henry not make all of the songs about depressing things but that doesn’t really make sense to me. They both like rock music and music like that isnt exactly known to be all cheerful lol. They’d more than likely have some songs that are just fun and whatever but I really doubt Ralph would tell Henry no about an idea for a song. It’s their band not just his.

•Before their band gets big enough to where they can just solely rely on it as a career, Henry worked at music and instrument stores while Ralph mostly took up jobs working in clothing stores.

(Henry sketches a lot whenever he can during the slow hours at his job.)

•This one is REALLY a HC bc it kinda has nothing to do with canon at all but… I hc Henry to have heterochromia. And I think once Henry starts hanging out with musicians in the alt music scene, he hears a lot about how well it fits him and their bands visual style. It makes him stand out. (Like yknow how OCs are usually called edgy for having heterochromia??) He already thought his eyes are cool too but it makes him even more confident hearing that :)

[0seashore0]

PLEASEEEEE if anybody is looking to do a Steddie roleplay comment or dm me! (Preferably I would like to play Steve!)

I’ll list some plots below however I have a LOT more!

1. Everybody survives after Vecna including Eddie. Everything seemed to be going back to normal for everybody [at least what they could consider normal.] Except with Eddie being new to all of this unlike everybody else he has more trauma to unload from his life-or-death experience. So instead of staying away from everybody to process he starts to visit people more often, those people being Steve and Robin. They didn't speak with each other too much other than when they were in the upside down but Eddie didn't want to bother the kids with his troubles or tell anybody else at the risk of being seen as crazy. It started to become routine, while Robin and Steve were working Eddie would come along and stop by, chat with them for most of their shift and then leave. However, once Steve got home from a late night of work his house phone started blaring a ringing sound and he picked it up without question, only to hear Eddie's voice on the other end of the line requesting help after a rather difficult nightterror.

2. Both Eddie and Steve are in high school, the two of them only being in one class together which was history. [I picture this to be mid-s2] Steve was still struggling with the breakup he had with Nancy and so was his school work, she was like his lifeline. He felt as if he got a headache every time he would read a sentence, making him very irritable. It only got worse when he realized that he could hardly hear the teacher considering he was nowhere near him/her. Steve was having a rather rough time in class, his worksheets being scribbled with random doodles as he didn't even bother to try and listen to the teacher any longer. Little did Steve know somebody was struggling just like him— well, not in the same exact ways but also struggling. At the end of their class, Steve and Eddie had envelopes placed on their desk, it having information that included a classroom number, the teacher's name and the reason why they had to be there.

“Marks reaching close to failure.” Steve was annoyed, to say the least, but he went to the class anyway, taking a seat at one of the desks only to realize Eddie was the only one in there with him… coming from the same exact class and the same brown envelope in his hand. [we can add more to this as it continues on!]

3.Steve had to clear his head at times so the best way to do that was to go on drives, which always worked after all… the roads were quiet and the only lights that were left on were street lights and the dim lights of lamps in bedroom windows. He planned on stopping by Lovers Lake… a place he used to visit quite often when he was still with Nancy— he couldn't let himself focus on her though. His headlights gleamed into the still water as his car pulled up close to it, though when he turned he noticed a rather familiar van parked there and a curly-headed boy sitting in the back of it with the doors wide open. Steve wanted to leave, just to escape the questions but Eddie had already waved him over so he was stuck now.

4. Eddie plans on stopping by Steves to pick up his vest after their attack against Vecna, he was lucky that he survived by a slim chance. It took him a few weeks to heal but he was back on his feet. He went to knock on Steves's door, keeping his headlights off as it was rather late and he didn't want to wake anybody in the neighbourhood up… he had to admit it was a bit nerve-wracking thinking about all the rich people who would be pissed if he woke them up. He waited for some time only to see a light turn on, the front door being opened soon after only to reveal a yawning Steve who currently had the metalhead’s vest wrapped around himself. His eyes widening once he noticed that it was Eddie at his door, trying to explain what he called “an accident”

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

💞

Hello I hope you are well. I was hoping to request. Please excuse my English, it is not my first language! I hope for a Steve or Eddie story where they are build themself up to ask the reader on a date but when they are about to do it, they overhear someone else asking the reader on a date and decide not to. They do not hear the reader’s answer and in later conversation, they mention it and are jealous but reader says they said no. With a happy ending. Thank you kindly

Warnings; Angst, fluff.

Likes or reblogs are always appreciated 💞 I don't give anyone permission to copy my work ❤

❤

Eddie had been hyping himself up for a few days, he has been planning to ask yn out for a while and it was only in the most recent days that he decided to go for It.

Come on Munson you can do this he tells himself, you survived a demo bats attack that should have killed you, this is easy!

Easy? Yeah, right.

He approaches her and sees that she is talking to some dude who used to be on the basketball team in high school and he freezes when he hears them ask her out.

He doesn't stick around to find out her answer, he knows what it will be. He should have never built himself up to ask her out in the first place.

An ache burns in his chest and he heads into Family Video to chat with Robin and Steve.

"Hey, so did you ask yn out?" Robin teases and he sighs and shakes his head. Steve frowns as he places some vhs tapes on the counter.

"Dude! We coached you all day!" Steve says exasperated.

"Someone else got there first, some jock from high school. Didn't stick around to see what she said because I know what the answer will be anyway. It was a stupid idea"

That's the end of the conversation and he doesn't want to hear any more of it, he pretends not to hear Robin say to Steve sadly.

"I was so sure she liked him, Steve"

Yeah, he thought maybe Robin was right too and it hurts like hell that she wasn't.

💞💞

Eddie was meant to meet her for ice cream, he couldn't believe that she wanted to try ice cream in October when it was starting to get cold out but how could she resist the new Halloween flavours?

Pumpkin cheesecake, Toffee apple and sweet plum sounded amazing and she couldn't wait to try them.

Unfortunately, Eddie didn't show but Jordan from the basketball team in high school did.

He had asked her out and she said no. Truthfully Eddie was the only guy she wanted.

To her surprise, she finds Eddie in Family Video and he looks miserable for some reason.

"Eddie. What's up with the no-show? I was waiting for you like a complete idiot?" she asks him confused and he turns to her shrugging.

He seems off, not his usual self and she has no clue what is wrong, she looks to Steve and Robin for help but they shake their head indicating they are not getting involved.

"You looked busy" is all that Eddie offers and she wracks her brain trying to think why he would sound so upset.

If he showed up then he would have seen Jordan talking to her and asking her out. Shit...

"Eddie" she begins again and his beautiful doe eyes flash with something she can't place.

"I saw you with Jordan and I didn't want to bother you when he was asking you on a date" it clicks in her mind then that he is jealous and she gently takes his hand.

"Eddie I told Jordan no, I'm not interested in him at all" he perks up when she says that and a little smile works its way on his face, showing off his cute dimples.

"Really?" she nods and moves closer to him, gently placing her hand on his chest.

"Yes, because you see I am very much into someone else. Handsome, a metalhead and a Lil dramatic, he has such pretty eyes and I love how passionate he is about D&D, I'd also really love it if he could kiss me right now"

He does wasting in no time as he pulls her into his arms and his lips meet hers.

"So...since you're free tonight sweetheart, do you want to go out with me?" She beams and kisses him again.

"I'd love to Eddie, you still owe me an ice cream date too" he nods and kisses her tenderly.

"As you wish princess"

💞

[riality-check]

WIP Weekend!

Because I'm late, as usual. Thanks to @thefreakandthehair @stevethehairington @starryeyedjanai and @2btheanswertothequestion for the tags!

Here’s how it works:

In a reblog (or new post w/ rules attached), post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to post!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can't share from (for example, an event fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. If you tag me in your post, I will send you an ask request!

File names:

it's always tease, tease, tease

cowboys part 3

Dive Bars, Meddling Family, and the Metalhead Enigma

Big Bang Chapter 5: Space Buns

smile while you suffocate (hate sex hate sex)

Snippet from cowboys part 3

“Steve, right?” Jeff asks, extending his hand to shake. Steve takes it. “Yeah. How do you-” “Eddie doesn’t shut up about you,” Gareth says. Eddie elbows him in the ribs. “I’m not wrong! Every day it’s Steve this and Steve that.” “You should see what we named the group chat,” Archie says conspiratorially. “No, he should not!” Eddie shouts. Steve laughs and takes the opportunity to wrap an arm around his waist, tug him close, and kiss him on the cheek.  Gareth fake gags. “You’re just jealous.” “I guarantee you I am not.” Steve snorts, then looks at Eddie. “What’s the group chat name?” “It’s-” “What did you think?” Eddie asks quickly, cutting Jeff off. “About the show? And not the group chat?”

[icyachr]

oooh please tell me about your Obey Me MC please I am desperate to know the Lore

YES YES YES I WOULD LOVE TO!!!

INFO DUMP UNDER CUT

I'm eventually going to do a whole write up/diagram/etc for her but for now i can share some fun little lore tidbits.

Saoirse's definitely a theater kid. Be it working behind the scenes or up on stage, she loves to give a performance. She also loves musicals, even the cheesy ones. You can catch her humming along to a song from one of her latest shows while she works.

She always wanted to be one of those gorgeous actresses on the silver screen when she was a little girl and still honestly wants to achieve that dream one day.

Her parents are also creatives themselves. Her father is a well known author for his science fiction novels and her mother runs her own bakery.

She has a Siamese cat named Aristotle who she rescued off the streets when he was a kitten. She mises him quite dearly and wishes she can just take him to the Devildom with her LOL

LOVESSSSS sour candy. Honestly has a hard time sharing with Beel when it comes to it.

Night owl through and through.

Is a huge perfectionist and her own worst critic. Especially when it comes to art and work. Has a hard time accepting compliments.

Adopted Luke almost immediately. Absolutely adores him and is one of his biggest cheerleaders.

6'1"

She started a DnD club at RAD after she missed doing it up in the human world.

Has the biggest fattest crush on Lucifer but you didnt hear that from me. :)

Loves to post cursed meme images in the group chat such as these. She has been removed from the group chat several times LMAO.

Metalhead and punk. She scared Mammon one time when she was coming home from a concert with a face full of makeup. Poor man LOL

Is terrified of roaches. She made SURE that the brothers picked up and cleaned especially when she gets made their attendant. Like she is the type that will climb up furniture in a panic if she sees one. Or use a flame spell.

Saoirse is known to snort when she laughs. She's extremely embarrassed by this fact.

Left-handed!

Beelzebub's her workout buddy. Wants to be strong enough to lift him one day.

She spends a lot of time in the Planetarium in the HOL, especially if she's feeling less than stellar. (pun intended)

Likes to make everyone feel included because she felt left out a lot when she was younger.

Her pact marks with the brothers form a very intricate sleeve tattoo on her left arm. I will draw this one day :')

Cosplayed a few times with Levi since she loves to put together costumes or make them herself. Theater kid strikes again.

Is a terrible cook. Perhaps not as much as Solomon but there has been a few times she has even set water on fire, much to everyone's horror. Luke tried so hard to teach her LMAO.

Favorite holiday is Halloween by far. She goes hardcore as far as decorating.

Adores Diavolo. So much. Falls victim to his puppy dog eyes every single time. Barbatos is unpleased.

Saoirse unfortunately tends to bottle up her feelings and dislikes asking for help from others. This is made worse in Nightbringer when she realizes she can't go to the Brothers for support like she used to, at least for now. She puts a brave front on but once she's well enough alone in her own room in Cocytus Hall she weeps, once again feeling like she's 11 and left out of the group.

ANYWAYS THATS EVERYTHING I GOT OFF THE TOP OF MY HEAD. I will be sure to post more updates regarding her story so stay tuned. :3c

[songforeddiemunson]

Wee bit o' wank

I'm really annoyed that I made this a side blog and not a separate main. I can't like, comment, submit asks, or follow back with this account, so I feel like nobody ever knows who I am and I really like interacting with people, so it's really frustrating me at the moment.

Or maybe I'm just bored because the fandom is quiet and I'm twitchy for activity. Plus, I'm seeing some other fandom blogs I respect getting anon hate and being run through the ringer for no reason, so that's pissing me off too. (please don't send anon hate, btw)

Anyway, please feel free to come and chat any time. Headcanons? Nice anons? Send em my way! I know it's normal for fandom to ebb and flow, but I'm not ready to let this one go yet. I'm still down bad for that metalhead.

[mindflayerhargrove]

Cry About it

Toxic!Billy Hargrove x toxic! Reader

Warnings: mentions of violence/physical abuse, toxic relationship, injuries mentioned, angst, not-so-happy ending, sad reader, sad Billy, please let me know if I missed any, it’s my first fic!!

Summary: Kind of was inspired by Love the Way You Lie by Eminem (ft. Rihanna). But I also added a line from Happier than Ever by Billie Eilish too, because it made sense.

Authors note: YALL, I’m scared. I’m terrified. I wrote this so sporadically throughout the day, I don’t even know how it is because I know if I read it, I’ll change my mind. So, I’m take a chance and posting this now. I kind of based this off a song, but it’s how I envisioned a relationship with Billy Hargrove would be like, just because the SOB would be toxic. But I’m nervous and scared and didn’t quite proofread so I’m so sorry if it’s shit. But anyways, hope y’all at least find it decent!!

Ps: also the formatting is shit because I don’t own a laptop and wrote this on the google docs app, just to paste it here 🤗.

Your wobbly legs bring you up the steps into the Hargrove residence. You fumble with the keys, your hands shaky as you jam the correct one and unlock the door. Without much of a second glance behind you, you slam the door, only for it to be caught by Billy’s hand.

“The fuck you trying to slam doors for?” He shouts. He was already starting this shit. Not even five minutes of entering his house and he was starting his bullshit.

“Cry about it.” You snapped back.

You stomp over to the room on the left side of the hallway and swing the door open. His heavy footsteps trailed behind you, and before you could attempt to shut the door again, he stopped it with his boot cladded foot.

“Dont fucking walk away from me. What’s your fucking problem?” He flails his arms out, letting them fall back to his side with a dramatic ‘thud’.

You kept your back turned to him, arms crossed over your heaving chest. You shut your eyes for a moment as if to calm yourself down in some way, but you don’t answer him. He knew very well what your ‘problem’ was - it was a trick question, really.

“Huh? Look at me when I’m talking to you, y/n,” he stares at the back of your head, and when he doesn’t get a response, he felt anger bubble in the depths of his core, “I said fucking look at me!” He shouted suddenly, making you jump.

You didn’t understand how things escalated within such a small amount of time between the two of you, but it seemingly always did. You invited him to be your plus one at someone’s house party. The night was going well, you two were having a blast. That was until he saw you chatting up the town’s freak, Eddie Munson, near the house’s back entrance. Billy saw red. In his eyes, you had been flirting with the metalhead; the way you nudged his shoulder playfully or how your head threw back in a fit of laughter at one of his stupid ass jokes. Everything happened so quickly as he approached the two of you, threatening to throw punches if the little shit didn’t scram.

It wasn’t a secret your relationship with him was..complicated. You lost count on how many public arguments and screaming matches you both got into at school. Everyone who was rooting for the two of you changed their minds rather quickly. You were y/n l/n, the girl who finally tamed Billy Hargrove. Little did they know.

You whipped around, now facing a red-faced Billy. “You’re kidding, right? You can’t be that dense Hargrove, come on.” You let out a dry laugh, giving him a look that only fueled his anger more.

“You’re really going to sit there and act like you didn’t just embarrass me in front of my friend? In front of all of Hawkins High!” You held your arms out and they too fell to your sides.

He scoffed. “Embarrass you? How do you think I felt, when..when my fucking girlfriend was all over some other prick, huh? How do you think that made me feel, y/n? You made me look like a fucking cuck in front of everyone.” He dragged his hand along his chin as if in disbelief.

“You know what I think, y/n, ” He began, taking a few steps toward you, “I think you like doing this to me. You like hurting me, don’t you?” He was closer to you now. You take an instinctive step back, your neck craning to meet his burning gaze. His eyes were red from the alcohol he consumed earlier that night.

“You’re fucking ridiculous.” You whispered. He chuckled darkly.

“And you’re a fucking slut.”

Your eyes widened at his statement. It came out from his lips with no remorse, with such ease. Did he really think that lowly of you? The same person who stood by him all this time, despite the constant degrading and making you feel as though you were inferior. The same girl who welcomed him to her home with open arms whenever his dad gave him another black eye or the stress of his own home was getting too much. You offered him an escape for a little while, protected him with everything you had as you held him close when he needed to muffle his sobs from the outside world. This is what your boyfriend really felt about you?

Without thinking, you raised your hand and went to connect it to his face, but in your inebriated state your movements were slower. Apparently it wasn’t the same to him. You caught your wrist in his hand and squeezed it tightly, inching closer to you so you walked back, consequently cornering yourself between the wall and himself. A whimper traps in your throat as you desperately try to pry your wrist from his iron grasp.

“B-billy..y-you’re hurting me..” your voice was hoarse,barely above an octave, hinting at the small amount of fear in the pit of your stomach.

“Billy, Billy,” he mocked, his words laced with venom, “stop your fucking whining. This is what you wanted, right? To piss me off, hm?”

You can’t remember a time you’ve seen him this angry. It almost scared you. No matter how bad your arguments were or how much you’ve managed to frustrate him, he’s never laid a finger on you. Ever. You found yourself cowering, lowering yourself as his face inched closer. He yanked you up to your feet, his free hand coming to grab ahold of your jaw and force you to look at him. Another whimper escaped your parted lips.

“What’s wrong? You were talking so much shit on the way here, now you have nothing to say?”

You turned your head. You were shaking now. This wasn’t Billy. This wasn’t the same man you fell head over heels for. The same man who held you close during your darkest hours; the same man who promised you that he would take you awake from Hawkins once you both graduated. Something that you once looked forward to, but now the idea terrified you.

“Look at me y/n,” He hummed in a dangerous tune, “I said fucking look at me.” He snapped your head towards his direction, making you gasp.

You felt your chest tightening with the little space you had. The walls were closing in on you and there was no escape. With tears streaming down your face you placed your hands on his chest and gave a push.

“Get off of me.” You croaked. When he wouldn’t budge, you gave another push, making him stumble slightly, but to no avail, he didn’t move another muscle. Your gaze met his for a mere second and was met with a smug look on his face. This prick was enjoying this.

“I said fucking get off of me Billy.” You moaned, warning him a final time.

“Or what, gonna cry some more? Gonna call me more names?” He gave you a fake pout, his head lowering to make you look him in the eyes.

You’ve gone feral now, shoving at his chest with all your might, sobs finally coming forth with the built up frustrations and hurt from tonight. From the day before, from weeks prior. He placed both hands on the wall to enclose you as you now used your shoulder to run into his body, only to be met with a pathetic “thump”.

“Calm down,” he warned, his tone rising in his own frustration, but it didn’t stop you from fighting for your free space, “Jesus fucking Christ calm down!”

His hand grabbed a hold of your jaw once more, pinning you against the wall behind you. The sudden movement made your head fly back towards the barrier behind you. You let out a muffled cry. Your eyes brimmed with more tears as the dull ache at the back of your head began to turn into a throb. You closed your eyes and shook your head mumbling out words even you couldn’t quite make out through your sobs. Billy couldn’t do anything but stare at your face. For a moment his hardened features softened. He felt his own eyes sting with tears.

This isn’t what he wanted. In hindsight, he knew he had been the source of all his problems; his possessiveness and inability to trust you fully tugged at something inside of him that made him react in ways he didn’t quite understand himself. Even through it all, you stayed by his side. He never questioned it, but he never understood how someone could be so willing to stay with him. So patient with him and open to calming him down whenever hell broke loose.

But this,

This was his lowest. No matter how angry you’ve gotten him, he never thought to have you crying while he put his hands on you. It didn’t settle in the damage he caused until he saw you press your head against the wall to gain some momentary relief from the pain aching in your skull.

“Fuck..fuck!” He pushed himself off of you and began paced across his bedroom. His fingers ran through his hair and tugged. Anxiety and frustration still sat heavy on his chest.

You allowed yourself to slide onto the carpeted floor, knees brought to your chest. You hugged your legs to yourself and rested your head on your kneecaps. You couldn’t look at him - not like this. The room remained quiet except for the occasional mutterings that came from him.

His eyes fell on you and your small frame. If heartbreak could kill, he’d drop dead upon looking at you. The man rushed to your side, kneeling in front of you carefully, as if you’d break if he’d touch you. And maybe you would. From the quiet sobs and shaking, you were no more fragile than a porcelain doll.

“Baby..baby..” he whispered urgently to you. He placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, rubbing small circles in a soothing manner.

Under his touch you tense up. You shrugged him off and pushed yourself up to your feet. Billy watched you grab the stuff you had thrown on the floor upon your arrival, scurrying to throw them back in your purse.

“Baby, what are you..what..hey, hey,” he rushed up to you once more, trying to grab ahold of your arm but you yanked it from his gentle grasp.

“Don’t! Don’t..just..don’t.” You put your hand up to him and shook your head.

“Y/n, please, just listen..look, I’m sorry. Okay? I didn’t mean to..I just..I got so upset and I didn’t see,”

“Didn’t see what, Billy, huh? How you put your hands on me? Made me feel small for the..,” you pretended to count in your head, “hundredth time? What didn’t you see exactly?” You stared at him blankly, waiting for some kind of explanation that you knew you weren’t going to get.

“I just..I..,” he sputtered out with desperation, “I saw you with him and..and I just..y/n. I’m sorry..I really am. It won’t happen again, baby, please just don’t..” he found himself blocking his doorway.

“Billy..we can’t keep doing this. This,” you gestured towards the both of you, “isn’t healthy. We’re not healthy.”

Tears stung his eyes as his lower lip began to tremble. If there was one thing that made sense in this hick town it was you. You kept him sane but drove him off the deep end all in one. You were his sanctuary, his home, but could make him feel so unwanted and needy at the same time. But he wouldn’t have it any other way; it’s what he wanted, what he was comfortable with. The idea of losing you was a risk he didn’t want to take. He was never good at letting go, after all.

“Sweetheart, don’t say that. Don’t fucking say that,” he took your hands and held them close to his chest. He peppered your knuckles and fingertips with soft kisses, just how he knew you liked, “I need you, baby. I can’t do this alone without you.”

Now it was your turn to hold back your tears. Your bottom lip trembled as you stared down at him. Your heart would have fluttered at the sight, but it just brought more sadness to your aching chest. You gently removed your hands from him and shook your head.

“I’m not good for you. I’m not, okay? It isn’t just you Billy..I..” you sighed and turned your heel.

“Not good for me?” He asked incredulously. It didn’t register with him how you could even think that. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” You scoff and roll your eyes.

“No..I mean it,” he sits at the edge of his bed, pulling you to him to sit beside him. “,I can’t imagine anyone else who can relate to me in any way..make me feel something other than lonely or..or..worthless..I just can’t..”

You looked at him, a bit taken back, but angry by his choice of words. Relate to you, you thought. The anger earlier from tonight finally surfaced again. You stood up and towered over him. A shaky finger pointing at your chest.

“Relate to you? Relate to you? No, I don’t relate to you at all,” you arms added emphasis to your words, “because I would never treat me this shitty, Billy Hargrove.”

He looked up at you with wide eyes. He was too stunned to speak. You picked up your bags in a hurry and turned your heels. With your hand on the doorknob, a glance over your shoulder you shake your head.

Part of you felt you were making a huge mistake leaving him. There was a pang of guilt. There was a fear of what lay dead ahead. The end of Y/n l/n and Billy Hargrove. A scary ending indeed but one that couldn’t have felt more..freeing to you.

“Goodbye, Billy..”

[kiss-me-muchoo]

𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐟 𝐝𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 || 𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐌𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

✿ Synopsis: While working you discover Eddie Munson had a date with a cheerleader when you were supposed to be trying for a serious relationship. What’ll happen when he see you at the Halloween party?

✿ Warnings: not really, just sex insinuations, but no actual smut.

✿ A/N: this is NOT part of my pumpkin series // I was inspired by that ep of PLL: Original Sin when the girls throw a Halloween party to save Imogen’s house. Reader gives me Faran and Mouse vibes <3 oh and, BAD GRAMMAR 💀 oh all the mentioned songs are in the playlist below

It’s the start of the spooky times of the year!!💀👻🎃

Pumpkin series is NOW COMPLETE here👇

✿Masterlist✿

Playlist for Eddie here 👇

____________________________

Halloween was your favorite event of the year, no doubt. Hawkins was also a fan of the tradition, decorations started in mid-September, and lasted until the first days of November.

You worked at the local theater, and during that time, it was the best job, the theater had orange lights, fake webs, and apple caramel popcorn. Sometimes you’d let Steve and a random date have free entries, sometimes it was the bunch of kids; Mike, Dustin, Lucas, and the hellfire club, also your friends. It was curious, that Eddie and you never watched a movie together in the theater, because he preferred to stay with you in the cashier, eating popcorn, and switching the songs that played at the entrance, he mostly played rock music since you told him that metal didn’t fit the vibe of the vintage theater.

He would drive you home and watch you bake a pumpkin pie for his campaigns. Even so, you weren’t dating yet, which awakened some insecurities in yourself. Not that you had tons of insecurities, but sometimes it felt like Eddie wasn’t sure to start a serious relationship with you. He liked you for sure, it felt so real when he flattered you and made time to spend with you, but, it wasn’t official yet.

Carrie was set to be the movie of the day, it was Tuesday the 29th, Halloween was on two days, and you didn’t have any plans, you hoped to spend the night with Eddie at his place, maybe even go out trick or treating. Anyways, it was Tuesday, almost 6:00 pm, and people were buying their tickets to see Carrie.

“The movie wasn’t even that spooky” Robin sighed behind you, seated on some small stairs beside the popcorn machines.

“I think girls liked it more than the guys…” you say pointing at the variety of girl groups. “Thanks and enjoy the movie…”

The customer smiled at you and walked away with his food.

“Oh shit, I’m not here!” before you can understand your friend’s words, you see the guy who just bought you food walking towards the hallways with more people, and you notice the red-haired Vicky, Robin’s crush. Then you look down at Robin, she’s clinging around your right leg, making you laugh.

“Dude, she’s gone. Don’t worry” your friend shrugs relieved, and you laugh patting her hair. When you turn again to attend to the next person on the line, you’re surprised to see Chrissy Cunningham greeting you with a cute smile.

“Hi, Chrissy!” she smiles and you’re surprised to see she’s not wearing her usual cheerleader attire.

“I knew you worked here but this is the first time I see you” her kind tone makes you realize how sweet she is, no wonder why she is so popular and had tons of friends.

“Curious, I feel like I’ve been here forever… apparently not” you respond giggling and she joins join, she chats a little, and at the end she asks for a blueberry slushie and the apple caramel popcorns. “I wanted to come yesterday with my friend Donna but she had this date with Eddie Munson”

What?

“Donna and Eddie? That metalhead! he didn’t said anything!” you try to sound calm and fun, but your anxiety and jealousy are creeping over.

“Yeah, she said they had a good time, and Eddie wanted to teach her to play guitar” you smile and exchange some words with the blond girl, then, she thanks you and walks away. Robin stands beside looking at Chrissy going away while she mumbles with a negative sound.

“That asshole! he and his mop hairs think they can play with your emotions?” you stay quiet, processing what just happened. Yesterday Eddie drove you home and said he would call you in the night, as usual. But he never told you anything about Donna.

“Maybe it wasn’t a date…” you try to reason, but she gently pushes you, so you look at him.

“Dude, it’s Donna Benson. Like, the second most popular cheerleader with the hottest lips in Hawkins” she yells whispering. Making you grab a cloth to clean the counter, unconsciously making it a little harder than you should.

“Thanks, Robin. That makes me feel so much better, for sure” she sighs and makes you stop cleaning, putting a hand over yours.

“What I meant it’s that she is a girl that every guy and girl wants, I wouldn’t be surprised if Eddie was a womanizer. But, you are you, you are amazing, you have more than just physical beauty, so fuck Munson. If he calls, you tell him that whatever was going on between you two, it’s over.” you knew she was right. You felt pretty enough to not care about Donna’s beauty, but your heart clenched a little over the fact that Eddie was playing with you.

“Yeah, you’re right. It’s just… I thought he was the one” thankfully there were no more customers, the movie had started, it was only you and Robin.

“I know, I saw you together a lot of times. It’ll get better, just before August, you weren’t even friends.” it was enough for the day, you didn’t want to think about Eddie for the rest of the day. You grabbed your stuff and turned off the machines with Robin’s help, you would wait for the movie to be over and get a bus with your friend, who miraculously lived in the same apartment complex as you.

__

Laying on your bed while watching a Casper marathon you roll your eyes as you hear your phone ringing again. You know it’s him, it’s Eddie.

You had ignored him all Wednesday, he gave you some space in the morning, but after watching your empty seat during lunch, he was literally begging you. He chased you like a lost puppy, appearing outside of the restroom every time you asked permission in class, then he would run to your car calling you, but you ignored him.

You sigh frustrated, it’s enough after the fifth time the phone rang, you answered.

“Thank God, What’ the fuck is wrong, angel? You have ignored me for more than twenty-four hours!” you want to laugh at his exaggeration, but you’re upset.

“Eddie… If you weren’t sure to give it a try with me, you should have told me.” he is surprised by your words, especially your calm tone.

“What?” he asks in confusion, you sigh lowering the volume of the tv.

“Yesterday Chrissy Cunningham told me that you were on a date with Donna Benson.” you could feel the embarrassment and jealousy emanating from your pores.

“Oh no, no, babe!, We went to see a movie because she didn’t have any cash to pay for some weed. She had this coupon! she even brought his baby brother!” the way he sounds, makes you wonder if he’s actually desperate to convince you or not. “It wasn’t a date!, and of course, I’m going serious with you”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” you take his little sounds as stressed sighs. Makes you feel nervous and twirl the cable of your pink phone.

“Well, yeah…” you really wanted to spend Halloween with him, you thought that he was going to ask you to be his girlfriend since the start of October, but he kept brushing away every opportunity to make it official.

“We’ll, no. How do you think I felt when Chrissy said that Donna was over the moon for you? she was dying for you to teach her to play guitar. Great job, Munson, now you have a new girl crushing for you.” as you seat straight at the edge of your bed, you hear him lighting a cigarette, you hate how often he smokes.

“No, honey pie. You’re not understanding, I lov-“ your heart races, you weren’t sure but it sounded as if he was about to say “I love you”.

“I don’t want to understand anything. I can’t trust you if you’re gonna randomly accept girls to hang out with, including their baby siblings, that’s not fair.” it wasn’t immature your reaction, you felt your right to feel betrayed because you two said you were on a level of exclusivity.

“So whatever was going on between us, is officially over.” before he can finish saying your name, you slam your phone back in its place. For some reason, you didn’t feel like crying all night and going to school all depressed on the day of Halloween. You wanted to feel great, have fun and forget about that stupid metal head. So you grab your phone again and call Robin.

“Hey, is our third musketeer there?” she laughs.

“Steve? yeah” relieved, you stand up, instantly feeling better.

“Tell him I changed my mind. We’re going to the party tomorrow” you hear Robin telling what you just said to Steve.

“Did you cut it off with Munson?” asked Steve suddenly, making Robin yell at him. Steve’s cousin was throwing a party, he was seventeen too, so you knew half of the school was going to be there, including Eddie, since he used to sell some drugs to the guy before he joined the Waterpolo team.

“We weren’t dating yet, but yeah. We need to go to find some costumes, honey” it wasn’t a secret that Steve didn’t like Eddie, especially after seeing how well he was getting along with the boys. But in your situation, you felt a little glad, because it mean no more grumpy Steve.

“That freak doesn’t deserve my best friend. Get your ass up, we’re picking you in fifteen”

You wanted a cool costume, you could bet every girl was going to wear a black leotard and cat ears, some angels, the cheesy vampires, and this girl with vulgar bikinis.

You wanted to look hot, but mostly pretty.

__

During school hours, you spent the day hiding from Eddie, with Robin’s help, she sneaked you to his band practice, where you were safely hidden from the evil dungeon master.

Steve picked you up from the back doors since Mike told you that Eddie was waiting for you at the entrance. And then, you went straight to Robin’s house to get ready for the party because your mom let you know that Eddie called her to ask if you were coming home.

You were looking at the dress on her bed, a red ridding hood costume. It was slightly very short, puffy, and red with black over the ribs and chest, with white, alluding to a gown from the 1600s of the early colonies in America.

“Maybe the undergarments are too much” you state, Robin picked the black undergarments that barely reached your thighs. She grabs the towel on your hair and lets it fall, giggling.

“No!, it’s perfect. You look hot but cute at the same time” she grabs a brush and tosses it to you with a hair tie and a red ribbon. “I know we’ve talked about this, but… What if I see her?

You knew she was talking about Vicky, and you didn’t like the idea a lot, the girl would flirt with Robin one day, and appear with some random dude the next time. You didn’t like how much power she had over Robin, especially when they weren’t exactly friends.

“Well, you can pretend you didn’t see her, or you can say hi. I know you like her, but you have to know if she’s going to make a move, or it’s just gonna be you all the time…” she nods seating on her bed. You know she feels weird about it, she gets very nervous trying to talk with girls. But she’s your friend and you don’t want anyone to break her heart.

“Apparently it’s easier if you like dudes” you raise an eyebrow and she laughs, hinting at your point. “Okay, maybe not always is easy”

“Boys can be worst than girls, believe me. Girls are just… complicated” she nods again, and your rest an arm around her. “I suggest we shouldn’t think about it tonight. Plus, if we talk about love problems with Steve again, he’s gonna get drunk and tell us all of his failure on dates”

Robins laughs veryhard. She agrees with you and your supposition, Steve might still be a famous guy but lately, he didn’t have a lot of luck in love.

__

It was 8:40, and Eddie hadn’t seen you at the party. He asked all the Hellfire club members, including Mike and Dustin walking around the house looking for you, and Garret waiting near the entrance with Jeff to wait for you, but there was no sign of you. He wanted to see you, wanted to make up everything before the party ended. When he turned to the living room of the house, his eyes opened and he leaned on the frame that lead to the crowded living room. He spotted you dancing with Robin Buckley, Into the Groove was on some stereo, it was loud and there was a lot of teens dancing, but from all the guests, your shiny red cape was like a mirrorball, gaining more attention than the new hit from Madonna.

He could see you were wearing a mini dress, with a medium red cape and the hottest black undergarments he’d ever seen, including your black converse. You were probably drinking, because you had an orange cup in your hand, and he thought you were the prettiest girl at the party. He was glad that he did some research on your decision for the costume.

He saw Donna, who was wearing a tiger leotard, but he didn’t dare to talk to her, her friends were the jocks, the drama kids and the cheerleaders. Donna was the ideal girl; athletic, perfect hair, perfect skin, popular… but nothing new, she didn’t have anything exciting. She was just the ordinary popular chick, she wasn’t you.

Eddie kept his distance for some minutes, watching you laugh and dance. The way the cape covered your head made you look so freakin’ cute to him, he just wanted to grab your cheeks and give you the biggest kiss ever. He remembered the day you two confessed you had feelings for each other. Back in September, when homecoming was coming, you told him you liked him, and he said the same. You went together and after the event, you had the longest make-out session in his van. That night you’d agreed to give it a try to have a formal relationship.

When his mind is back at the party, you weren’t dancing anymore, Eddie looks around worried, but he realized you just were seating on the big stairs near the kitchen. Robin was gone, and it was dark enough to light up the house with purple and orange lights, with fake webs and pumpkins scattered around the house. It was perfect to approach you, but that didn’t stop Eddie to feel his hands sweaty and his heart pounding so fast.

Eddie never felt so nervous about anything, except for you. Approaching you when he knew you were mad at him was very hard, he didn’t feel like the dungeon master, he just felt like a shy little boy.

“Hey…” it’s the first thing he says, his shyness is notorious. You shriek at his sudden appearance, but finally you just give him a little glance, nodding and trying to hide how nervous you also were.

“Hi…” you don’t know what to say, but you decide to look back at him when you see his outfit. His wearing some black jeans, a black sweatshirt and a lumberjack sweater, his usual rings, and accessories but… you laughed so hard when you noticed some werewolf ears and his nose painted with a little circle on the tip. “Wow, very much a coincidence that you are a wolf and I’m red ridding hood”

“Yeah, well…” he got so blushed when you pointed at his costume. “Let’s say mini Wheeler heard his sister jumbo Wheeler that you told her you were gonna be dressed as red ridding hood”

“Good for you, Munson” you state, still laughing, standing up from the stairs, trying to make your way downstairs, away from him. You loved the idea that he basically sent Mike to stalk you and Nancy but, that didn’t change anything.

“No, wait” he slightly pushes you back, stopping you by grabbing your arm. You roll your eyes, obeying him, taking a seat on the stairs again. “I was gonna tell you yesterday, but thankfully you hung up before I said it”

“I really like you, angel. I trust you and you demonstrated how much you care for me since I met you. I swear to you that I’m not interested in having a bunch of girl fans behind me, I only want you” he smiles looking at you pouting, he knows you do that when you’re feeling emotional. So he carefully grabs your chin to make you look directly at him.

“I know, it’s just… you are my first love, Eds. I’m scared to get hurt, all the books I’ve read have given me the highest expectations, and reality thought me it’s the opposite” you sound calm, but a little worried, choosing the best words to make him understand you.

“I feel the same, I’m not good with emotions, and suddenly you are the first girl who cares for me, wants to see me succeed, who makes wanna take a daily shower” the way you start laughing makes him go all heart eyes for you.

“Eddie, that’s gross.” he takes a seat beside you, taking your hands. You can feel a lot of eyes on you, there’s no secret that you’re almost relationship with Eddie Munson was so startling for half of Hawkins.

“I’m even willing to quit smoking for you, I know how much you hate it” your eyes go wide open, so you stroke your hands on his.

“No!, just… just do it when you really need it, like a serious stress or relaxing moment, You know?” he nods, smiling while looking at the crowd, for some seconds, he forgot he was at a Halloween party.

“Oh yeah! What I was about to say when you hung up yesterday was that… I love you.” instantly, you go and hide your face on his neck. He laughs and makes fun of you. “ Aw, babe! you are all red! You look so fucking cute” his arms trap you, but you are still able to playfully punch his chest.

“Shut up!…” then it hits you.

He just said he loves you.

“I-… I love you too. But I don’t want to see you taking any more girls as payment for weed” he nods constantly, and when you separate, his hand is at your cheek, and you know he’s about to kiss you. “Not that I’m showing how toxic I can be, but… you’re mine”

“So… Would you officially date me?” you nod happily, connecting your lips together.

Oh my god, Eddie Munson is going official with me. He’s kissing me with Lay All Your Love on Me playing at the party!

“I can taste liquor from your mouth” his lips were soft and he tasted like alcohol, and chocolate, making your heart warm.

“And you taste like vodka, honey pie” he kisses you again before standing up and offering you a hand.

“I wanna go dance before the song is over. I need to show Donna that you’re already taken” Eddie laughs very hard at your words, and pull you closer, whispering in your ear.

“I’m serious, I only have eyes for you” turning to your right, you leave a little kiss on his cheek. Then you grab his hand and pull him to dance.

Eddie Munson is the worst dancer, but you love it. It’s perfect, as he spins you and constantly kisses you on the cheeks, forehead, or lips.

You can see Donna Benson looking at you two, and you know she’s pissed, but it’s not your fault, she just choose the wrong metal head to like.

In a matter of seconds, you completely forgot about the party, Donna, everyone, it’s just you and Eddie. The way he caress your hips as you sway to the old tune of Five Ten Fiftyhold, and his sneaky hand starts to go up, through the curve of your waist, his chest against your back. The moment makes you rest your head on his chest, and then his hand is brushing over the edge of your breast, landing on the cleavage of your costume. You open your eyes when you realize you were about to let out a moan.

He set you on fire, and he knew it.

You turn to face him, and your smash your lips against his, its a dirty kiss. The way his hand gently takes your neck, and your fingers sliding through his hair, makes you wonder how badly he wants you. So you stand on your tip toes, with your lips barely touching his neck, near his ear. “I want you to make love to me, Eddie”

“Holy shit…” he whispers, squirming. He knew how hot you could be, but this was the the most intense moment of all. Nothing could replace the strong urge to take you, the way he was already throbbing at your touch and words. Since you started courting, he never pushed you to have sex, at the end, he was a virgin too. He wanted to make it special, or let it happen in the right moment. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, Eddie. I feel on fire” that’s enough for him, he takes you hand and makes you exit the party, directly going to his van. “I want you to make me yours…”

“Fuck, let’s get the fuck out of here” You don’t worry about Robin or Steve, they look too drunk at one table, with piles of beer, they look like they’re laughing and crying at the same time.

When you get into his van, he stays quiet for a couple of minutes.

“I can’t believe this” you glance at him, as he turns on the vehicle.

“What thing?” he shrugs giggling.

“This, you and me.” his hand lands on your thigh, making you moan in the darkness of his car. “I’m am going to make you so happy, love”

“I can tell. But go on, this dress is not going to disappear by itself” he gives you a dirty look, and you pat his hand away.

“Ew, creep” he starts driving as he laughs and puts some of his cassettes.

“Oh, but you are the one making nasty comments that make my dick get hard as a rock” he looks at you as you stay in the red light, and he knows he’s so deep in love.

“I’m excited to meet him for the first time” you two burst in laugh.

“Okay, but those undergarments stay on” you nod and remember something else.

“Oh and the lingerie too!” Eddie pretends to be shocked, but in reality he is shocked, he was so hard that it was becoming painful.

“There’s also lingerie?” your fake innocent nods are tempting, and the way you are pulling up your dress to let him see a bit of your exposed legs, with the contrast of the black undergarments. It’s killing him.

“Red transparent chiffon” he pretends he dies and then wakes ups when the traffic light goes green. “And what about some red ridding hood role-play?

“I’m going over the fucking speed limit. We need to get to your home as soon as possible” his joke causes you to giggle. “As ridiculous as it sounds. I’m gonna make love to you, but I’ll fuck you so hard too”

“Oh my god! Eddie just drive and shut up” he loves your laugh, he loves to tease you, he loves you so much. “Anyways, keep teasing me… I love it”

Halloween of 85’, was such a dream.

_____________________________

Next thing I’m planning it’s this two parts fic about ballerina reader! x vampire Eddie!

(Pls don’t steal my idea yet)

[phoeniix17]

bubble-gum b*tch

TITLE : bubble-gum b*tch

FANDOM : Stranger Things

PAIRING : Eddie Munson x Reader

WORD COUNT : 989

WARNINGS : little swearing 

SUMMARY : Being a metalhead in Hawkins isn't always a good thing, and your lifelong rival has made that clear by sticking gum in your hair. But just when you thought you'd have to cut it all off, Eddie may come to your rescue.

High School was hell. Actually, it was that annoying because of that bitch Lydia. She hated me for no real reason except that I was different from the others, clothing-wise. But I had never disrespected her, or even spoken to her. She just hated me because I was a freak. 

And today, she had found the worst possible crap that could be done to me. She must have stuck at least four or five pieces of gum in my hair that I cherished so much. By the time I realized it, it was too late. I immediately left the cafeteria without taking the time to finish my plate and ran to the bathroom hoping to save a few strands. 

But when I saw myself in the mirror, I couldn't hold back the tears. It was over for me, I was going to have to shave everything and end up completely bald. She had amused herself by placing them in such a way that they were spread everywhere so that I could not save anything. I hated her. And my anger quickly turned into sobs that I could not hold back. 

- Y/N? someone asked me outside the bathroom. 

Shit. Eddie. I hadn't said hello to him today, and he must have seen me running across the cafeteria without even giving him a smile; me who usually always came to chat with him at the Hellfire table after I finished my plate. 

- You good in there? he asked me. 

- Yes, everything is fine, I answered with a trembling voice that betrayed my tears. 

But I heard him enter the bathroom. I quickly wiped my eyes with the back of my sleeve, but I knew he wouldn't be fooled. He slowly approached me and gently took my face between his fingers.

- What happened darling? he asked me. 

- It's that bitch. It's stupid but- she stuck gum in my hair and- I started to explain before I started to cry again, I was pathetic.

I felt him take a few strands of hair and look at them. I didn't even want to imagine what he must be thinking right now. 

- Easy, I'll take care of it, he just said. 

- How?! At this point I'll have to cut everything! I'll end up bald! I cried with anger.

- I've been through this before, dummy. Do you really think they were going to make me cut my hair off because they stuck gum in it? he laughed.

I was confused. He grabbed my hand and led me into the kitchen. He explained the situation to one of the women working here and she returned a few moments later with a bowl of ice cubes. I didn't know what we were going to use it for, but apparently Eddie knew what he was doing, so I trusted him. Nothing worse could happen anyway. I then saw him take a cube and place it on my hair where the gum was. And after a little while, it came off without any difficulty. I couldn't believe it, and I was grateful to him for getting me out of that situation with dignity. 

After a good 15 minutes, he was done, and my hair looked as good as it did before. 

- And we're done, he said with a proud voice. 

- You know that I am eternally in debt to you now? I said.

- It's nothing, I'm used to doing that, he replied with a small voice.

- Really? I asked him with sadness. 

- What can I say? The important thing is that your hair is saved, he said to change the subject. Now, show me that Lydia so I can deal with her. 

- No, it will be fine, I promise, I begged him.

He agreed without a second thought, but I could see in his eyes that he would still find a way to get his revenge, he was Eddie, I couldn't change him. Just then, the bell rang, a sign for us to return to class. But just before we did, I stood on my tiptoes and placed a brief kiss on his cheek in thanks. 

----

By the end of our class day, he had convinced me to get revenge. He assured me that he would not do anything illegal, but that she had to pay for what she had done to me. I wasn't completely against it, although I felt some remorse for putting her through whatever torture Eddie had invented. And let's just say that with DnD, he had many ideas. And when he explained his evil plan to me, I was almost afraid. 

He had gathered the entire Hellfire Club to put it all together. Lydia had a fairly precise routine. On her way out of class, she would always stop by the basketball court to chat with a player she particularly liked. And that was the perfect place to set up the plan. 

They had managed by who knows what ways to get their hands on a jar of white glue, the kind that went off easily with water when it was on your skin, but took years when it was in your hair. 

And they planned to empty it on her when she was in the right place, which was right next to the locker room because they could hide behind a small wall without being seen. 

These boys were evil, but I was beginning to appreciate how things were going to work out. Eddie and I were a little out of the way so we could get a good view of the scene.

And when it happened, I felt my heart fill with satisfaction. She deserved to pay the ultimate price for what she had put me through for months. I looked at Eddie with a mischievous little smile, and he kissed me on my forehead. He then grabbed my hand and we ran off to avoid being seen.

Karma was a bitch. 

[succubratty]

Lili's Kinky Diary: Two smelly girls in a grindcore gig

Hello guys, gals, they, them, and others! 💖

It's been a while since I posted my stories with Emma. 

If you haven't read it already, here, you can check the three-part story that started it all: How I knew my best friend had amazing farts: PART I | PART II | PART III and final

We are on summer vacation now, visiting my hometown; my real hometown is Santiago, Chile; but I moved to California when I was ten, to LA, to be more specific.

A sad short story we moved with my little sister because my mom died of cancer, and the only family I had was here in LA, which was my uncle and my grandmother; maybe someday I'll talk about more of that, but it won't be kinky, so next time possibly.

So let's start with the main story!

I was a very die-hard metalhead girl in high school, I was from gig to gig back in those days, and I met so many cute and stunning girls, punk, emo, gothic, skin girls, and of course, metalhead girls, too.

This was pre-transition; before coming out, I was just boy-modding everywhere; just imagine a tiny femboy metalhead, a mix between a twink and cub, a twub? I was trying to get my hair to grow longer and all; I was trying so hard to look more feminine.

I had just turned 19 and was in my last year of high school. Parenthesis: I had to repeat the fifth grade because that was the year I moved to the USA.

There was a big gig with local grindcore bands; I was really into crust punk, grindcore, power violence, and other sub-genres alike in those years.

I was going to go alone because my metalhead friends (all cis het males btw) were more into power metal and progressive metal stuff; they didn't like the noisiness of grindcore, don't get me wrong, I love progressive metal too, but I also love this messy shit.

It was the perfect scenario to try a metalhead girl outfit and be lowkey; I looked on Pinterest for what thing could suit me best; checked my savings from selling pirated DVDs.

With a lot of courage, I went to the downtown distro stores in my city that also have metalhead clothing, bought some metal girl apparel, and got a basic makeup kit.

I was so happy with my outfit; I wore a mini skirt with my bullet belt, a pair of purple striped pattern stockings, and my favorite military boots; my ass looked amazing on them!

A Napalm Death tanktop; I didn't have boobs, but my collarbones looked nice, I guess?; I bought some fabulous buckled arm warmers; I loved those things!

It was everything in black, of course.

I tried simple makeup because, to be honest, I didn't know what I was doing, some foundation, mascara for my lashes, and black lipstick; I tried to do eye shadow, but I looked like a raccoon, so I removed it.

I looked very tomboyish with my pixie haircut; for the first time in years, I was happy with my look, the best decision ever.

I had to be careful because it was a total secret from my family, I lived with my grandma and my little sister back then, and I was afraid they wouldn't understand.

So I left the house without getting seen and left a note in the fridge to let my grandma know where I was.

The venue was full of crusties and street punks mostly.

I don't want to feed a stereotype, but people in punk and metal communities always make fun of crusties because they're pretty smelly or have poor body hygiene. Especially cis male crusties; this is a dumb assumption because most of the crusties I've met are so tidy.

Anyway, so I was hanging out at this gig; not going to lie, I felt lonely, I didn't know anyone, and I was afraid someone could call me out and scream slurs at me and all kinds of similar fears.

So I just took a deep breath; I told myself that nothing wrong would happen; I reached for my backpack to light a cigarette; I used to smoke a lot in those days.

And then suddenly two beautiful crusty girls appeared next to me and started talking to me, they asked me for a lighter and started chatting with me, they offered me some beer, everything was so chill between all the screamings of the bands and the big moshpit in front of us.

I was fascinated by their styles and makeup; I just wanted to try their clothes.

One of them had purple lockhawks whose name was Chloe, and the other girl had a silver curly mane that was Dominique; they had been in an open relationship for almost two years, and both had lots of cool piercings and tattoos.

Chloe was tall, almost 170 CM (like 5' 7, I think); she was 22 and studying law. Dominique was a little bit tinier than me, maybe 155 CM tall? (like 5' 1), she was 24, and she had a workshop on her clothing designs; my little lesbian heart was melting; we talked a lot of stuff, the bands, the venue, about us, and we followed each other on Instagram too.

I told them that I was still in the closet and trying to figure things out with my gender identity but that I was pretty sure that I was a lesbian girl and that my gender expression was completely femme-oriented.

They were so lovely to me; Dominique was so enchanted; she would love to try some designs on me and told me I should visit her workshop. Chloe asked me if it was my first time doing my makeup; I said "yes" with an insecure expression on my face, —Well, I would love to teach you some stuff. You have such a pretty face— softly touching my chin.

I was with heart eyes looking at Chloe because girls taller than me get me so subby Idk why, so that's when I noticed her body odor, a very soft armpit smell mixed with her sweat. I'm trying hard to focus because I'm getting numbed by her scent (and also horny, not going to lie). 🥴

Suddenly Dominique said something like —uh Chloe? Can you come to the toilet with me? Gotta pee, and these beers are making me so gassy.— So we took a break while waiting for them outside the bathroom.

I took a deep breath because, gosh! They're so kind to me and also so hot.

Was I in love already?.

An open relationship? That was so new for me, they explained how it worked for them, and I think it was pretty cool, and then the last thing that Dominique said about getting gassy made me blush a lot.

After ten minutes, the girls came back laughing and talking about how dirty was the girl's toilet. While we returned to the stage, they gave me tons of yucky details:

Chloe said between laughs —Dominique had to squat and pee with her butt in the air avoiding a massive shit that the girl before us did; she warned us she was too drunk to aim.—

And Dominique grabbed my arm and said —The thing was all over the toilet bowl's edge, while Chloe was holding the bathroom stall door while I was making a huge effort not to fall and pee inside the toilet.

My mind was like:

"Google search: how to fake disgust, error 404 not found", so I laughed with them, hoping they didn't notice how aroused I was.

Then, out of nowhere, some guy from the moshpit got pushed so hard that she stumbled with Chloe and fell over me.

I got pushed against a wall; she put her hands over it to not crush me more, but my face got sunken inside all her cleavage, and my glasses were over my forehead.

The sweat smell from her boobs and her armpit smell was all around my nose; I almost died from an orgasm right there, It was just a matter of seconds, but it occurred in slow-motion for me.

She pushed the guy back, and Dominique told him to "fuck off." —I'm sorry, Lily! Did I squash you too hard? God! You have my boob sweat all over your face, I'm sorry, I'm smelly, I know, I'm trying a new deodorant, and the thing is failing me—

She said all these things with an embarrassed expression while cleaning my face with some tissues she had in her backpack.

I was with a dizzy face trying to put my glasses back —Yeah, sure, don't worry, it happens to all of us— Inside, I was screaming, "kiss me already f*ck!".

Then Dominique told me —You gotta smell her when she doesn't wear deodorant; she's like a bit of an onion.— She was giggling, and Chloe —You naughty bitch! Don't tell her that! Your farts don't smell exactly like roses.— with her red face.

—No, they don't smell like roses, but they don't smell like onions, that's for sure.— Making a big laugh.

It took me a lot of courage to do this; Still, I put myself on the tip of my toes to tell Chloe in her ear —I like the smell of your body now, probably I'm going to like it if you don't wear deodorant too.— She looked at me with big eyes and a red face, then gave me a cute smile.

She then approached Dominique and screamed —You little skank!— and spanked her big bubble butt; it sounded deafening, and she started kissing her; then she told her something that I couldn't hear.

And I'm there looking so blushed with a little smile. Both looked at me at the same time with a flirtatious smirk, then Dominique said —You know, we had a hunch with you, Lily; you looked so cute standing there looking at the bands and at the same time so lonely; you seemed in fear, and then we knew why.—

And Chloe added —You ended up being a cute, closeted, kind little trans girl who enjoys one of the most aggressive music styles in metal.— We laughed together, and my eyes started to shine a lot.

—And you're so hot too— She finished saying this lustily, leaning forward to me, kissing my lips! She did so slowly and well; it wasn't my first kiss, but it was my first in a long time. Suddenly she leaned toward me, looking into my eyes.

My heart was racing at a hundred rpm, but I had to stop her because I was getting a boner, and it was making me feel uncomfortable.

I told her with signs what was going on, and she was like, "oh!" she giggled —I'm sorry, maybe we could do it in a safer place?— Looking at Dominique, she looked so entertained as she approached significantly closer to us —I would love to take this cute girl to a safer place— While grabbing my tank top to give me a very ominous french kiss.

Oh my god! What was going on with these girls? What was going on with her tongue?. I thought they were so amazing, and I couldn't believe this was happening to me.

Then I started to feel a powerful smell like rotten eggs, but it had a distinctive scent. I know this smell very well; it was a beer fart smell!.

When she finished her great kiss, she immediately said to me —I'm sorry I fart a lot when I kiss, oopsies; I hope you don't mind.— Giving me such a confident but horny expression. —Baby, you reek; you will scare her with your farts!— Chloe said, faking pinching her nose and making a fake angry face.

I was speechless; I needed to say something, and I exclaimed —I like your farts; I don't mind getting farted on, I mean kissed on, yeah that." Then I realized what I had said and just put my hands over my mouth because my brain was not making coherent words.

My embarrassment was so huge that l was red from the shame. The girls gave me that flirtatious look again, Chloe made a big "aww" and said I was adorable, and Dominique was looking at her cellphone. —So two bands left; we wanted to see these guys.— Showing me the flyer from the venue.

I answered enthusiastically because I also wanted to see that band; they were the main event. —I just love them! Their lyrics are like a kick on your face, and the vocalist is nuts; his growls and screams are unique.—

Dominique looked at me with a squinting smile —Oh yeah? Do you want to meet them? It's my big brother's band; he's the singer. They are chilling there, waiting for their turn to play.— And she pointed to some chill bearded, long hair dudes with black shirts drinking beer in the corner while watching the current band play.

I seriously couldn't believe it. I was so excited; I'm such a fangirl; I said yes immediately.

I met with the band, and they were so cool about everything. We drank some beers, the girls were with me the whole time, we kissed several times, kisses of three are amazing! I never got misgendered; between the aggression, the growling screams, and the crazy moshpit, it felt lovely; really, I just had a great time.

The venue started to fill up because the main event was about to begin, and then we watched them play; the thing was crazy; we went stage diving, someone spilled a big bucket of beer, and I got beer all over my tits, I stanked of beer.

So the gig ended, and Dominique said to me —You coming with us? You need to shower, you smelly girl; you can wash your clothes too, and I'll call your grandma, so she doesn't get to worry if that is okay with you.—

I was so tired, but I got blushy anyway. I just answered —Yes, I'd love to— with a soft voice and nodded.

Her big brother drove us to Dominique's apartment; Chloe had her arm over my shoulder, and indeed, she smelled like an onion, but I was in heaven.

I just rested my face over her boobs and fell asleep.

So that's it, for now.

Chloe and Dominique were my first girlfriends; they are my family and helped me start my transition; they helped me figure out my kinks in general; their kinks and fetishes have much in common with mine, but they have their favorites besides eprocto.

They took care of me in a very delicate moment of my life, and they helped me to move to study in San Francisco, where I met Emma; I won't tell you which college is, but it is an art school. 🤭

I talk to them on facetime almost every weekend, and I usually spend my summer and winter vacations with them or my grandma and sister.

Fun fact: people often think Dominique is my mom or older sister because we look alike, especially when my face started changing because of hormones.

Both are Eager to know Emma, so I wrote this entire story because it is the story I told Emma while driving to LA.

I hope Emma can get along with them too. 🥰

___________________________________________

Finally, I could update this story.

I hope you enjoyed it.

With love.

SuccuBratty 💖

[readyplayerhobi]

Flower | 38

; Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Fluff, slight angst

; Word Count: 4.7k

; Warnings: Slight mentions of body insecurity/self-hatred

; Synopsis: You finally decide to take a dip into the world of online dating and find the Flower dating app. One of the top matches for you proves to be a guy who looks to be your complete opposite; tattooed, pierced, a metalhead and oh…incredibly handsome. What happens when you throw caution to the wind and reach out to him?

; A/N: Only two more chapters after this one! I apologise if this isn’t good or anything...I wrote it all today as I wanted to make sure I keep hitting one a week for you! This should mean that Flower should officially end in two weeks! 😢 it’s sad to think about but I hope you’ve all enjoyed the journey with me too! Also...once you’ve read the chapter then you might want to look at this link....it’s an important link

; Flower Masterpost

-

The dress shop you’d chosen for today was exactly how you’d imagine a wedding dress shop to look inside. The elegant interior design gave everything an expensive appearance; creams and golds and muted greens tastefully blended throughout the furniture and the walls. While you knew that wedding dresses weren’t cheap anyway, the whole atmosphere of the shop made it all appear so much more costly.

You had no real idea of how you were meant to find a wedding dress, and your first suggestion of just ordering one offline had almost given Chungha and Soyeon a heart attack. Even Hoseok had looked at you a little funny when you’d mentioned it, making you realise quickly that you’d made a bad decision.

Just ordering one from the internet wasn’t a good choice because you likely wouldn’t get the dress you imagined. Plus, Chungha had pointed out that you had no idea whether you’d even like the dress in person or whether it would look good on you.

That had been all you needed to realise that going to a store would be the best option. You were just a little nervous about it, worrying that they might not even have wedding dresses that would fit you or something. Or that you’d look too fat in front of everyone or you’d rip a dress accidentally.

Despite the reassurance your best friends had given you, you were still convinced that you weren’t going to find a dress you liked. Maybe a dress that didn’t look half-bad as long as you didn’t look in a mirror or any photographs in the future. You may have come a long way in terms of self-acceptance, but you still had your moments of doubt and self-hatred.

Formal events were most definitely one of them. The knowledge that your wedding was supposed to be the one time that you would look perfect and be the centre of attention was horrifying for two reasons. One, you were terrified that you’d just end up highlighting the fat on your stomach or your arms and two, you still hated being the centre of attention.

Already you’d been discussing with your therapist about this, pointing out that you were dreading your wedding day instead of being excited. Hoseok was understanding of it as well and was trying to help you overcome the issues and instead get you hyped up for it, but the knowledge that everyone would be focused on you was nauseating.

How did people enjoy it?

Still, you’d searched around for dress shops that looked to be friendly and held the kind of styles that you’d be most interested in before finding the best looking one. You knew there was every chance you might not find a dress you liked here so you also had a list of backup stores to visit at a later date.

For today though, you had your mom, Hoseok’s mom and your best friends here with you. All the people who would give you the right advice about what dress to pick. You’d told them all to be honest as the last thing you wanted was for them to try and cheer you up by lying.

At the moment, you were sitting on one of the couches that were set around the small room as you waited for the assistant to come back. The store had three rooms that were used for bridal parties to try on dresses and pick their favourites, away from anyone else who might happen to wander by. You’d like the privacy it offered which had been another factor in choosing them.

Before attending, you’d specified the types of dresses that you’d prefer to try on and the colour schemes. Upon arrival, she’d looked over your body with a critical eye that had made you feel uncomfortable before disappearing out of the door once more. As she had a lot of experience in helping brides find the perfect dress, she was now weeding out the dresses that she knew for a fact wouldn’t suit you.

Maybe someone else wouldn’t like that, but you appreciated the extra effort. Plus, you knew that you could always ask to see them if you didn’t find any from the dresses that had been specifically picked out for you to try today. You figured that you’d let her get on with it though. She had way more experience than you did in this area.

You were nervous though, your leg bouncing quickly while your fingers were tapping at your jean-clad thigh. Everyone else just seemed to be excited but the large mirror on one end of the room filled you with dread. What if you looked fat and ugly in every dress? You wanted to look perfect but you weren’t unrealistic. There was only so much to do with an average base, after all.

Unsurprisingly, your mom notices your quiet and shy demeanour. Not that you were naturally outgoing anyway, but mom’s notice these things. 

Reaching over from where she’s sat next to you, her hand firmly takes your own and presses it against your leg, stopping it from jerking. Glancing over to her, she gives you a soft smile before running her fingers along your cheek in a gentle movement.

“What’s wrong? Worried?” Nodding self-consciously, you try to avoid her gaze as you feel heat spread through your body. Even your fingers tingle with embarrassment, not wanting to cause a scene in front of everyone.

“Aren’t I supposed to be worried?” 

“No, you’re supposed to be excited. But don’t think about what you’re supposed to be. Just enjoy the moment and have fun dressing up!” She encourages you, giving you a bright smile while squeezing your hand. It attracts Soyeon’s attention from your other side, causing her to stop chatting with Chungha and Hoseok’s mom on the opposite couch.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Now it’s her turn to try and comfort you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder before hugging you tightly. It causes you to smile softly before looking at her, shrugging underneath her embrace.

“Nothing. I’m just...you know me. If there’s one thing I can stress over then I will.” You can almost hear the audible sigh in the room. There’s no doubt that it’s not meant maliciously, but you know that everyone was probably hoping that you’d be able to enjoy today and get excited. Instead, you’ve just made it clear that they have damage control to do.

“What are you stressing over? Not finding the right dress today? The wedding itself? The cost?” The questions are peppered at you from your mom and each one is almost right. As excited as you were to get married to Hoseok, you’d never been one of those girls who fantasize about a wedding. As such, you’d never particularly cared to pay attention to what weddings require.

What Hoseok and you had discovered over the last few months was that weddings required a lot of money and a lot of different people involved. The florist, the venue, the interior design of the room, invite makers, catering, suit makers, wedding dressmakers and so much more. It was a headache to think about and you’d tried to get everything sorted as quickly as you could and for something that wasn’t going to bankrupt you both.

Despite that, you were still looking forward to finally getting to marry Hoseok. It was just the whole process getting there that was causing you anxiety. You wanted to look your best for him. Blow his socks off and all that jazz.

“Yes and no. It’s stupid,” Your voice lowers, almost to a whine. “You’ll think I’m being stupid.”

“Hey...no. No, we won’t. You know we won’t, we never have.” That comes from Chungha and you can see that she’d like to be part of the ‘physically comforting’ crew. But there’s not enough space for her, so she’s relegated to just talking to you from over the glass coffee table between both couches. There’s a fresh bouquet in a pretty vase on the tabletop alongside copies of wedding magazines scattered along the surface.

A quick, unsure glance takes in Hoseok’s mom and you feel even more anxious as you wonder whether she’s judging you. Is she unhappy at what she sees? Uncertain whether or not she wants her son to marry you after getting to witness firsthand your anxiety and fears? You know that she knows about that stuff. Hoseok had told her over the years with your permission, but it was another thing entirely to see it in person.

There’s no judgement in her eyes though and it settles you a little. Instead, there’s concern, a frown on her forehead as she leans forward and watches you closely.

Swallowing, you sigh before finally deciding to just be honest with them. You needed their support right now and you wanted to be excited about picking a dress. This was going to be the dress that you’d remember forever. The one that you hoped would make Hoseok cry when he saw you.

“I just am worried. That...you know...I won’t look good. In my dress. Or any dress. Or that I’ll look fat. Like it’ll highlight my fat bits or something. I know he’s going to look gorgeous because he’s always beautiful and a suit is just going to make him stunning. So I’m afraid that I won’t look good next to him.” The little ball of anxiety in your stomach is growing bigger as you speak, paralysing your chest and making it a little harder to breathe as you imagine all the ways a dress could highlight your bad points.

Your mom can tell, purely, by the way your movements beneath her hand start to get a little more forceful as you try to fidget. She presses down a little harder, forcing you to stop and look at her. There’s so much love in her eyes, but you also see the concern and upset.

“You’re going to look beautiful, sweetheart. You know why? Because you’re already beautiful! Everyone will be in awe of you, thinking you’re the prettiest girl in the room on the day and that’ll be because you will be. Because you are.” She finishes, squeezing your hand while a firm smile is pressed onto her face.

“She’s right,” Hoseok’s mom interrupts, causing you to look over and see that she has her supportive smile. “You’re going to look amazing. And as someone who knows my son pretty well, I have every confidence that he’s going to cry like a baby when he sees you. Hoseok thinks you’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. You in a wedding dress is just going to be the cherry on top.”

That makes tears fill your eyes as your breath catches. Pulling your hand away from your mom’s grasp, you wipe at them daintily before sniffing. You’d carefully applied makeup this morning in a possible replica of what you might want your wedding makeup to look like. Smoky eyes and a neutral lip with a subtle natural look to your face. The actual makeup would be more in-depth but you figured this would be enough to get an idea with the dress included.

Before you can say anything in response to her, the door opens up again and a moveable clothing rail is rolled inside. It’s loaded with beautiful dresses, all carefully wrapped up in plastic or paper to keep them pristine for their potential bride to try on. The sight of them makes your stomach knot up in both anticipation and fear.

Your assistant, Fatima, closes the door behind her before giving you that brilliant white smile, full of customer service as she gestures to the dresses.

“Okay, so I’ve kept almost all the ballgown style dresses. I know you said that was your ideal silhouette and I’ve picked out all the ones in ivory for you. There’s only one or two that are shoulderless. I know you said you weren’t fond of that but there are some really pretty ones that I think would work with your body. Minimal lace as well though there’s one or two with some nice designs on them.” Standing, you head over to the rail and gently finger through the dresses with wide eyes.

There were so many of them.

As if she could hear your thoughts, Fatima speaks again. “You don’t have to try them all on if you don’t want to. If you find the dress then just let me know! Don’t force yourself if you’ve fallen in love with one, okay?” 

Nodding slowly, you look over at everyone else with raised brows. Understanding the silent question, almost everyone laughs and gestures to the dresses with excitement.

“Oh my god! Get trying!” Feeling shy, you carefully take the first dress off the hook before disappearing into the en-suite changing room. Taking your clothes off and carefully folding them onto the little seat in the room, you let Fatima in once more to help you slip the dress on. She hurries around you, adjusting bits of the dress and smoothing out areas before bringing you back out into the main room.

This one is pretty plain and simple with a ballgown style that reaches down to the floor in gentle swathes of soft, ivory fabric. The bodice consists of what seem to be two pieces of the same fabric, carefully designed so the right side slips underneath the left side in a criss-cross over your chest. It gives you a classic neckline that only gives the slightest hint of cleavage and helps to enhance your breasts while the straps rest on the very edges of your shoulders.

You love the style and overall design of it, appreciating that the shoulder straps are thick and the sweeping bodice manages to highlight the good parts of your body. For a moment, you wonder if you’d managed to find the dress on your first try, but turning around and examining it from all angles you soon realise that you haven’t quite got it yet.

Turning to the others, they all tilt their heads in various directions and make contemplative noises. Slowly, you spin around for them to get a good idea of the whole dress before you look at yourself once more in the mirror. Running your fingers down the luxurious cavenza, you acknowledge that it’s a beautiful dress.

But it’s not yours.

“I don’t think this is the one,” You say. “I think it’s too simple?”

Raising a brow, you look at the girls to get their opinion. They hum for another moment before nodding agreement with you.

“It looks beautiful but you’re right. It’s not quite...right. A little too boring. You look amazing though.” Smiling shyly, you turn to look at the mirror once more with a little hesitation.

You’d been so worried that a dress might just make all of your more unsightly bits even more obvious than normal such as the belly you could never seem to get rid of or your thick hips and butt. Thankfully though, the silhouette style you’d decided to try seemed to be doing a great job of disguising all those bits.

The only thing that you weren’t quite happy about was your upper arms, the fat there a little too much for your liking. Frowning, you take a deep breath and try to ignore it before looking at Fatima.

“Not this one. Can I try the next?” She nods eagerly before gesturing for you to re-enter the dressing room.

The next hour carries on like that with you trying on dress after dress and finding a reason to dislike every single one. It begins to get a little disheartening and you worry if you’re not going to be able to find the right dress. What if it didn’t exist or something? Wasn’t there supposed to be some magical moment when you’d put on a dress and it’d just feel right?

Like a sign from the heavens that you’d found the One?

Shaking your head at the mirror in exasperation, you turn back into the dressing room and begin to peel off the dress you’d been trying. This one had been an instant dislike with the train being far too long and the bodice making your body look particularly frumpy. You were more than happy to get out of it.

As Fatima helps you, undoing the laces at the back and making sure the dress comes off without any tearing, you give her an apologetic smile. “I’m so sorry. I hope I’m not wasting your time.”

She laughs at that, shaking her head as she carefully places the dress back into its protective wrap and hangs it up. Taking the next dress off the rail, she pulls it out of its wrap and turns to you with the same happy expression on her face.

“It’s okay, honestly! It’s what I get paid to do. Besides, it’s all a process. You wouldn’t believe how many brides have to go through multiple appointments before we can find the right one for them. Don’t stress yourself if it’s taking a bit longer than you might have hoped for. It just means that the right one for you is still out there! And trust me, you’re a lovely bride compared to some I’ve dealt with.” Fatima says, smirking before gesturing for you to spin around.

Wincing slightly, you wonder how many bridezillas she’s had to put up with over the years. You’d think it was a sexist term but you’d certainly read enough Reddit to know that it was, unfortunately, true for a sadly large number of brides out there. Hopefully, you wouldn’t even remotely be considered one.

“Not many left to go through now.” Fatima sing-song’s, carefully zipping up the pearl buttons on the back of the dress. Inhaling, you hold the top to your chest to help her along before watching as she continues her routine of making sure any unfortunate creases disappear.

Lifting the skirt slightly, you follow her back out into the room and stand in front of the mirror. It’s not one mirror, but more like a mini-wall of mirrors. There’s five, with one big one in front of you, two slightly smaller to either side and at an angle, while another two are angled even further in. It helps to give you a good look at everything from as many angles as possible while the bright lighting illuminates all the good points of a dress.

Tilting your head, you examine it closely before turning from side to side to try and look over all the angles. Humming lightly, you spin and watch as the skirt flares out dramatically. It had a slightly longer trail than some of the dresses you’d tried but it’s not so long that you’d need someone to carry it or anything.

“What is this one made of?” You ask, letting your fingers trail over the delicate design that makes up the bodice of the dress and spreads down onto the skirt. It feels soft and you feel pretty wearing it, admiring the leaf design and the way it creeps up your shoulders to cover up the straps.

“The leaf design on the bodice and the shoulders are ivory lace, tulle and Royal Organza with an ivory gown, tulle illusion and beading,” She gestures to the material that covers the bottom of the gown, the material light and see-through in an elegant manner. “The back of the dress is a v-design and the leaf design also continues around here. I must say, it looks beautiful on you!”

At any other moment, you’d be wondering if she was just trying to hurry the appointment up to get it moving and have you putting a deposit down already. You’d taken up so much of her time today that you wouldn’t be surprised.

But she sounds genuine, and you’re too busy admiring the dress to care. Because you agree with her. It’s a stunning dress and for once, you think it does look beautiful. It hides all the bits you were self-conscious about yet outlined your body perfectly to give you a body silhouette that you loved.

The lace design extends along with the skirt in all directions but it’s only directly in the front and behind where it extends almost to the edge. It’s intricate and so delicate, causing you to wonder how people managed to make these. You certainly wouldn’t have the patience for it.

“I...I love it.” You find yourself saying, eyes wide as you look yourself over in the mirror. Shifting around, you turn to everyone and give them an expectant look. Posing for them slightly, you shift in all directions to make sure they can see it all properly before spinning and letting the dress flow out.

“Oh my god, it’s so beautiful.” Chungha breathes out, pressing a hand to her chest as her gaze is focused firmly on the dress. Soyeon is nodding too, a huge grin on her face before she squeals and claps her hand as her excitement takes over.

“Ahhhh! It’s amazing. Oh my god, it’s perfect!” 

Hoseok’s mom nods, standing up to move over to you and get a closer look. She slowly moves around you, taking in the gown up close before reaching out to gently trail her fingers over some of the lace. You let her, watching closely to see what she thinks.

“Oh my, Hoseok is going to cry. You look amazing.” Her words cause a sudden surge of emotion in you as you look over your shoulder, taking everything in once more. It’s not the fairytale moment you’d imagined it might be, but it feels close enough. There’s not a single thing you hate about the dress.

You don’t even particularly hate yourself in it. Biting your lip, you try to imagine yourself on the day itself; the veil trailing down your back while your makeup has been professionally done and a specially made bouquet is held in your hands. The feeling in your stomach isn’t anxiety or self-hatred but...excitement.

“Mom?” Looking at your mom, you see the way there are tears in her eyes too. She’s got her hands covering her mouth and you frown, hoping she’s okay. Stepping over to her carefully, you reach out and take her hands gently.

“Mom? Are you okay? What’s wrong?” You’d crouch in front of her but you didn’t want to potentially do anything to ruin this dress. Not when you’d taken so long today to find it. Maybe you were just lucky that it had only taken one session to find it. You didn’t know, nor did you care anymore. 

You’d found it.

“Oh honey, you look so beautiful! I told you that you would, didn’t I?” Wiping at her eyes, she gives you a watery smile before giving a weak laugh. Slowly, she stands and places her hands on your shoulders, taking you in from a little distance with such a fond and happy look.

Feeling a little shy under her stare, you look down at your hands before taking a careful step back and letting her look at you from all directions. Chungha and Soyeon are almost vibrating with excitement as they stand to the side, clasping their hands together and giving you the biggest smiles possible when you laugh at them.

Looking over at Fatima, you smile at her. The look on her face is satisfied and you guess she’s probably content that she’s managed to fulfil her job today. Another bride was satisfied with her choice, after all.

“I think I’m going to have to put a deposit down on this one.” Looking back down at the dress, you run your hands down it once more in wonderment. It was odd to think that you were going to be wearing this in a few months, only then you’d be walking down the aisle to Hoseok. For a moment, you imagine what his face might look like.

Glancing at everyone else, you smirk slightly as you feel a little mischief taking over at the thought of him.

“Hoseok was bugging me this morning about if he could be allowed to see the dress. Trying to say that traditions are silly and everything. I’m going to call him, right now. Wearing this. Just to tell him I’ve found it. It’s going to drive him up the wall knowing I’ve picked it and he’s not allowed to see for months.” That makes his mom snort in amusement while Chungha let’s out a whoop of delight.

Your mom is shaking her head, amusement thankfully drying up her tears. Reaching to her, you embrace her in a tight hug that’s a little rare from you. But you’re thankful to her for everything she’s done and for all her support so far. Plus, you get the feeling she needs to have a hug right now.

She hugs you back just as tightly, patting your back before rubbing at it in soothing motions that make you feel young and small once more. When you pull away, she gives a slightly exasperated look before rolling her eyes.

“Go on then, go call him. Honestly. Do you two ever go a day without teasing each other relentlessly?” Laughing, you nod at Fatima who exits the room. You presume there’s more to go through before you’ll finally be able to leave but at least you can stop getting in and out of dresses finally.

“Never. Besides, this is revenge for him eating the last of the Crunchy Nut this morning.”