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noceurous · 18 days

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a guide to dating in twenty first century

now you’re on a second date with him, you’re not on his lap but he is between your legs

warnings: implied age-gap, swearing, mention of abusive behavior (not by joel or reader), mention of bad childhoods and life struggles, some angst, nicknames (baby), fluff, smut; semi-public sex(ish), fingering (f receiving), oral (both receiving), hints of dom!joel, daddy kink, minors dni (18+), reader is able-bodied, afab, and has hair.

a/n: sorry this took so long, real-life is a chaos and sucks but thanks to Portugal pics i’m so writing the third chapter now!

[part i]

part ii: the in-between

Going to movies was definitely not on your top three for ideal dates. You usually went to the movie theater with your mom who shared your love for overpriced, extra salty, greasy popcorn and never chit chatted during the movie. Or you just went there alone, enjoying it by yourself and your popcorn.

“Would you like some popcorn?” Joel asked while you were making your way to the screening room.

You texted Joel after two days. You were worried you made him think you were pressured by him. Even though you reassured him a few times it wasn’t like that, he was a gentleman enough to think it was better to give you some space.

After getting your text, he had invited you to a movie he wanted to go to. Saying he had an extra ticket since his brother ditched on him.

“Yeah, it’d be nice.” He motioned for you to go inside, gently pressing his hand on the small of your back.

“You go in and I’ll go get them.”

“I can join—” He raised his hand, pointing through the door.

“I insist.”

Soon enough he came back holding a large bucket of popcorn, and two sodas. You noticed his hands were large enough to carry them without any trace of struggle.

And he had thick long fingers which gave you one of your best orgas—

“Thank you again.” You said as he gave you the bucket.

“Are you comfortable?” He asked as he sat down next to you. Eyes scanning you for a trace of discomfort.

“I’m on a nice fluffy seat, I've got my soda and popcorn. Also I’ve a handsome guy in my company. I don’t see any reason to complain.” You said as you threw one popcorn inside your mouth.

“If you are good with the ‘handsome’ company, then I’m good too.” He said as he took some of your popcorn.

“Are you kidding? It’s the best part.” You winked at him, earning a small chuckle.

He leant to kiss your cheek. You acted before him, your lips pressing his before they could reach your cheek.

The kiss was sweet, and soft. When he sat back you could see the pinkish hue his lips got thanks to your lip balm.

Before you made a comment about it, the lights were dimmed all the way down, meaning you had to focus on the screen, not the handsome company.

The movie was a guy’s movie; full of action and no message to give, just something to enjoy. Maybe you could watch it again with your dad. Whenever you wanted to spend quality time with him at his man cave.

You jumped when the guy blew up the car, some of the popcorn was shifted inside the bucket. He placed his hand on your thigh. It was more protective than suggestive. You knew it was more like a reflex and he had no intention but since you had the brightest idea of wearing your shortest dress it was not that innocent for you.

You could feel the goosebumps forming on your skin, and dampness on your underwear. It did not take you too long to remember your previous date, and how you ended up on his lap.

Just focus on the MOVIE.

His hand was placed in a reasonable spot, a few inches above your knee. Fingers lazily drawing circles on your skin. You glanced at him a few times but each time his eyes were locked on the screen. You knew that he was aware of your gaze. His touch on you got tighter at times, fingers moving higher, halfway to reach your dress just before the first part of the movie was over.

You looked down at your lap, precisely focusing on the casually wandering hand. Saved by a second to get caught. “So? Did you like the movie?”

“It was… entertaining.” You said as you slurped your soda, avoiding his gaze. “I enjoyed it when the guy decided to steal his stepfather’s car, who blamed him for his mother’s death.”

He raised his eyebrow, “You didn’t like it, did you?”

“Not on my top three, but not at the bottom three either. Maybe next time I can pick the movie?”

He smiled, his tongue clicking on his mouth. You knew he liked when you gave him a green light for a second date. “Next time, I’ll let you choose the movie.” He nodded, his hand squeezing your thigh. You subtly parted your thighs, letting his hand move.

When the lights got dimmed again you two were still looking each other, taking in each other for a few seconds before the second half started.

You could feels his gaze on you this time. His fingers were slower, tracing the outline of your inner thighs, moving closer to the hem of your skirt.

You breath hitched, thighs parted slightly, asking for more. You bit down on your lower lip. Breathing through the nose and watching some guy got beaten the hell out of.

Joel’s fingers brushed along the hem of your skirt, waiting there, asking for a sign of approval.

You spent each night to make yourself cum like he did but you did not get even close enough to finish it.

Your body took over the control; you snuggled next to him, raising your hips a little. His fingertips disappeared under your skirt. You looked up to him, seeing the smirk on his face.

His middle finger traced your wet slit through your underwear. Pressing onto your clit, you almost jumped when the pleasure hit you like electricity. Your hand got on his thigh, your fingernails digging onto his hard denim.

He was playing with you as you did to him. You could feel his bulge under rough denim. Fingers dancing slowly on the shape, hearing his breath hitch when you pressed your fingertips on it.

He threw his arm around your shoulder, pressing your body closer to his. His other hand was still on your underwear, playing with the band of it.

You pressed your palm against him, gently stroking him up and down. He slid your underwear to the side, exposing you to him. You cursed under your breath as his fingers played with your folds.

You raised your head, pressing your lips along his jawline. His salt pepper beard trickled your lips but you did not mind. He turned his head, kissing you all he got as he pushed a finger inside you.

You bit down on his bottom lip, trying to not moan loudly and got attention. Thankfully the movie was loud enough and a few people chose that time-slot.

“Joel.” You whispered, placing your hand on his bicep. He didn’t stop, curling his finger inside you slowly pumping in and out. You sank down your nails on his skin, biting down on your lower lip to keep yourself quiet.

You kept palming him, trying to get your revenge but he had the upper hand. Your head felt heavy as your pleasure kept building and building.

The credits started to roll on the screen, and lights were turned on again. Joel pulled out his fingers just before people started to move. You both were smiling at yourselves for not being caught.

You got up quickly, holding him by his wrist, leading him to exit. Ditched your half finished soda and popcorn back there in your seat. Your mind was still cloudy from pleasure and you wanted to get more.

He pressed you to his groin as you walked to his car, afraid someone would see his now semi-hard bulge.

He liked the way you dragged him. He liked how you held onto him. He liked how you looked over your shoulder and gave him a small smile.

He loved your smile.

—

You were in his car, in the parking lot. You looked around to see if there were anyone around before you got inside. You quickly kissed him, moving onto his lap again. He pushed his back, giving you a space for you to move better. His hands were holding your ass over your dress, making you grind into him through his jeans.

“Fuck, baby.” He said, his hold on your ass got tighter. “If you continue to go like this…” He admitted, sucking on the spot under your ear.

“Let me suck you off, please?” You said, battling your eyelashes.

His chest fluttered with your request, he couldn’t remember the last time someone asked him this, if anyone ever did. Now his jeans were a bit tighter and his smile was bigger.

An eyebrow raised. “You want to suck me off?” He cupped your cheek, rough thumb tracing your bottom lip.

Instead of answering him, you took his thumb into your mouth, pressing yourself further on his lap. Your crotch was right on top of his bulge, your dress was lifted around your waist.

He cursed under his breath; raising his hips to feel your damp underwear. His one hand was still on your ass, taking a fistful. He knew if you pressed on him little tighter you would definitely leave this car with his fingertip marks.

“As much as I want to see my cock stuffed in your mouth— I don’t want to do this in here.” He said taking off his thumb and replacing it with his tongue. His hand was on the back of your neck, pressing your body onto him as he kissed you with all he got. You opened your mouth to him, letting his tongue devour inside your mouth.

You placed your hands at the back of his neck, fingers curling around the dark locks there. Feeling him melt onto the kiss.

He gently placed you back on the seat, kissing your temple. Your brain functions stopped, unable to process what he had just done.

“Let me drop you off baby. It’s getting late.”

“Okay.” You said nodding quicker than you want, trying to keep your eyes to yourself and not on his erection. You could heard how devastated you sounded even you only said one simple word.

—

The car ride was quicker than you expected, he probably crossed the speeding limit a few times. His one hand on the wheel, the other fixing his jeans, grumbling whenever he had to slow down.

Your hands were trembling when you put your key in the hole. His large hand placed on your hip, his erection was pressed on your ass. Poking you through your thin dress.

You didn’t know if he was doing this to hide it from people or to turn you on even more. His size was effective enough for both.

You almost pushed yourself inside when the key finally turned, the darkness of your hall greeted you.

You turned on your heels, pulling him closer to you by the collar of his shirt. Not wasting any time to kiss him. He groaned into the kiss, one hand found its place on your waist as the other pushed the door closed.

You tried to think fast, whether you should take him to your bedroom or your couch was fine or not. When he broke the kiss to take a breath. Leaning his head back on the wall, eyes glued to your heavily breathing figure.

Your hands unbuckled his belt, taking it off swiftly. You broke the kiss to get on your knees but he stopped you. “Are you sure?”

You were fooled by his question. Battling your eyelashes, keeping a soft smile on your face. “Yes, Joel. I want this.” You said as you got on your knees. The landing was not as gentle as you hoped when you got on your knees, the fibers of the rug hurt your skin. Taking a note to get yourself a fluffier rug.

Your hands were trembling when they got on his pant button.

You’re not even good at a fucking blowjob.

His hands were placed on yours, stopping you from pulling it down. “Take a moment baby, ‘m not goin’ anywhere. Okay?”

You looked up into him, seeing the soft smile on his face made your heart slow down. His knuckles caressing your cheek up and down. You saw how hard he was trying to hold himself.

You nodded, taking a large breath through your nose. Pulled the jeans down quickly, seeing his angry cock right in front of you.

Telling he was big was definitely an understatement. And he was not even fully hard. Your mouth salivating when you saw how shimy his tip was with the precum a thick vein underside.

You licked your lips, taking his cock in hand. He hissed at your warm touch, guiding it to your lips. He pressed the tip on your lower lip, smearing his arousal.

You gave it a long lick, tongue following its slit. He hissed when you gave him a quick kiss. Licking and kissing along his length; getting him as wet as possible before you took him inside your mouth.

“That’s it. Good girl.” He said as you wrapped your lips around him, and your fingers were wrapped around where your mouth could not fit.

You began moving your head slowly, working your hands alongside. You relaxed your jaw as you took more of him, his tip pressing at the back of your mouth. Your gag reflex triggered when his tip hit the back of your throat. You stopped for a second to give yourself time to adjust before continuing to suck him.

He was breathing through his nose, watching you between his legs. Your left hand was brushing along his balls at every stroke. Your warm mouth around his length. He could see how hard it was for you to fit him inside your mouth. You were breathing your nose, glossy eyes and some saliva leaving your mouth. It was even harder for him to not take control, not hold your head and move his hips. His nails dug into his palm, leaving half moon shaped marks.

He could feel him getting closer and closer to cum, trying to hold it as long as it was possible, savor the moment. But you were making it hard for him when you were looking at him like that. With tears around the corner of your eyes, taking him with all you got; sucking and licking.

You felt his hot cum shoot through the back of your throat and tongue, the familiar sour taste on your taste buds. You waited for him to finish before slowly taking him outside of your mouth.

His hands cupped your cheeks, raising his eyebrows. “Open your mouth.” He said and you obeyed him. Showing his cum pooled on your tongue. “Good girl, now swallow it.” He said, his fingers brushing along your hair, fixing the loose strands and tucking them back.

You felt proud when he called you good girl. You wanted nothing more to please him. You put your tongue back inside your mouth,swallowing all of the cum; opening your mouth again to show him you swallowed.

He chuckled, kissing you after you got back on your feet. “It is my turn to return the favor.” He said, placing his hands on your dress, guiding you to your couch in a few short steps. “Leaving you high and dry is a crime, baby.” He said as he got on his knees, pulling down your underwear.

You nodded along his words, lifting your skirt to show him your bare cunt, as he got on his knees. He smiled at your state, licking his lips before he pressed his mouth on you.

He wasn’t slow or gentle, he was like a starved man who got denied from pleasure for a long time. You were already wet from the second his tip touched your tongue. His tip flicked your swollen clit, you felt like you were electrocuted with sudden pleasure.

“F-fuck! Da-Joel!” You screamed, pulling on his dark curls. Saved by a second by calling him daddy.

He stopped to speak, brushing his mouth along your pussy. His scruff was itching but somehow he made it better.

He looked into your eyes and you saw the spark in his. The corner of his mouth turned into a smirk.

He liked it.

“You wanna call me daddy?” You nodded, raising your hips to his face. “Call me daddy.” He said feeling himself get hard again, continuing to suck on your clit.

You threw your head back, pulling his curls again. “Daddy, it’s t—too m—much.” You confessed, toes curling as the orgasm built on, sweat forming on your temples. You felt your face heat up when you got close to this soon.

Was this okay?

“You gonna come for daddy? Go on, show me what my baby does so good. Coming for all over her daddy’s face.” You did as he asked, letting the pleasure take over your body.

Crying down with your release as he pushed his tongue inside, lapping up your juices. Groaning at your taste, shaking your body straight from the core.

When you came down from your release, you let go of his head. Lying down on the couch half naked in front of him with your dress around hips.

You looked like a mess.

“You look beautiful.” He said as he put back your underwear and helped you to fix your dress back.

You weren’t ready for the sudden compliment, having a hard time to process when somebody actually complimented you post-sex. “T-thank you.” He kissed your cheek.

He pulled his pants up, tucking his cock back inside his pants. Leaning down over the couch to scoop out his belt. “Uhm, the bathroom is at the end of the hall on the right. You cannot miss it.” You said as you got up from the couch, looking at how his beard was shining with your juices.

He blinked twice then got up. “Want anything to drink?” You asked as you got on your feet, pouring yourself a glass of water. “Yes, please.” He answered as he walked down your hall.

You heard the light switch in your bathroom, nodding to yourself. Your feet slowly dragging you to your open kitchen, legs still felt like a jello after your orgasm. You rested your hip on the counter taking a moment to close your eyes and process.

“You have a lovely place.” You jerked when you heard his voice. Didn’t hear his footsteps or the light switch of the bathroom.

You smiled as he came from the corner and sat down on your two person kitchen table. “Really? It’s a bit different from yours, I have plants which need water and better sunshine.” You said as you pointed your Chinese evergreen across from your couch. “I have tea, herbal tea, coffee, some white wine..”

“Just a coffee is fine.” You lifted your head to your open cupboard filled with colorful mugs and glasses, taking out a butter colored mug.

“And many colorful mugs, as I see…”

“Yeah I even had one that says ‘life is too short to use boring mugs’. Sadly my fridge and cupboards are not filled with many ingredients, it’s mostly frozen food in the fridge. I can’t cook for shit.” You opened your coffee jar, the smell of freshly grounded coffee beans surrounding the room.

He chuckled, “I can teach you, not everything maybe, but if there is something you want to learn. I'd be glad to help you.” You took out a fresh filter paper, placing it on your small machine.

You shrugged, the idea of him watching you prepare a simple coffee was already making your stomach twirl. “No, I just hate cooking. It’s more stressful when someone is watching me.” You explained as you closed the lid and flicked the switch of the machine.

“Now, you know how I felt about our first date.” His voice stood out from the grumbles of the machine.

You turned to him. Seeing him looking at you with those thick arms crossed at his chest, hair slicked back. He was a sight, and you cannot imagine him stressed even for a second. “Were you that stressed?”

“A bit. But I knew what I was doin’. I’ve lived alone for more than two decades, baby.” You nodded, remembering your first year of living alone. You had to google a lot of stuff and he didn’t even have that privilege back then.

“It hasn’t even been five years for me, so no pressure I guess.” You said as you poured his coffee. “My mum didn’t know how to cook until I was born, she says I’ll learn eventually and she is a great cook.” You handed him his mug. Sitting down on the chair across from him. “And your mum? Is she a great cook like you?”

“She was even a better cook than me. She had to feed three men. I don’t think it was easy back in the day as it seemed. There were many times that we were short on money, she mostly had to come up with stuff. I had to start working right after high school, support them for a while until it was my time to move out, then it was Tommy’s. Soon enough we came up with Miller Construction, and here we are.”

You nodded along as he explained, wondering what young Joel was like. Who did he hang out with? How did he spend his free time? Who was he dating back then?

Was he confused about his purpose in life as well?

The last one is too deep, don’t ask him that!

“I‘ve had a friend who was close with my landlady so that’s how I found the place. Then I decided to move out.”

More like a toxic ex than a friend.

“You’re lucky. It took me around three years just to find a place, but I also own my place so I guess that’s normal.”

“Kinda lucky. My landlady is a bitch to me…”

“Really?”

“She never helps me when there is something needs to be fixed. Creates a scene when I miss to pay the rent by one day. She used to snitch on me to my bo—“

You stopped yourself when you realized you almost break your rule.

Never mention your ex unless asked.

“She is not a good person basically.” You explained; raising up to place your now empty glass back to sink. Turned your back towards him to take a deep breath. Closing your eyes for a second when the familiar memory flashed in your mind.

You’d be stuck in that small place with your mum for the rest of your life without me.

“Have you thought about moving out?”

“Nope. My rent makes her tolerable, I can handle her if she gets though. I have claws too.”

“I see.” He said as he nodded along, taking a sip from his coffee. “Call me if you need my help. I’ve been told that I’m a very persuasive person.” You both chuckled at that.

He got up and placed his half empty mug next to yours. When he stood in your kitchen like that, all broad and tall, it felt like somehow he belonged there all along. In his casual fit jeans and dark green plaid flannel, holding your butter colored chubby mug, it felt like this was your casual evening.

“Living in a big city is tough for everybody.” He added, placing his hand next to your elbow on the kitchen counter. Fingers brushing up and down on your arm.

“Yeah. I will call you, if she gets on my nerves again. Maybe a fresh blood for the battle is better.”

“Yeah maybe.” He agreed. “I’d be glad to help you.” He said as he leant in, kissing you.

The kiss was small, you tasted yourself and the coffee before he took a step back. Leaning his forehead on yours, he gulped before opening his mouth.

“I really hate to say this but I better get going. Have some stuff to take care of.” He said before kissing your temple, walking back slowly as he made his way to door.

“Oh okay, let me walk you out.” You said as you followed him.

“When can I see you again? I assume your schedule is pretty tight, with the wedding and stuff.”

“Yeah it’s in less than 10 days, but I’m pretty much free. I have this dress rehearsal in two days and that’s pretty much it. That and the wedding of course.”

He nodded along as you explained. “I hope it’s not too early but I have a cabin. I’ll spend this month out there.”

You felt like your heart shattered when he said he’d be away for a month. “Oh, it seems nice.”

“It is. It’s good for relax and stuff.” There was a moment of silence, you scratched the back of your leg with your feet. Unable to form a sentence.

So was this a goodbye-goodbye? Would you be able to reach him when he is at the cabin?

“After the wedding I’d like to take you there actually. At least for a few days, I’m in between projects and usually I go there and spend some time away from the city.”

He wants you! He wants you there!

“I’ll check in with work, had some pending leave days, if I can use them…” He cut you short, already smiling like a kid with a treat when he got your answer.

“Okay, I’ll be waiting to hear from you.”

“Sure. Drive safe.”

“Will do,” He said as he gave you a kiss on the lips. You wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him back. Giving him a nice goodbye before he marched down the stairs.

He felt like he was more alive then ever when you said yes to him, mentally planning the trip and made sure to go and check the cabin before he brought you there.

You felt like your heart was beating inside your chest when you closed the door. You brought your fingers to your lips, still feeling his lips there.

#pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller fic #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x reader #joel miller tlou #joel miller series

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eddiernunson · 1 month

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Ice Cream, Bikinis, and Other Ways To Torture Him | Older Rockstar!Eddie x Harrington Fem!Reader | 18+

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Summary: The stories of Eddie Munson, front man of Corroded Coffin and his music filled the Harrington household, his albums on shelves and picture frames hung of your dad and him, young and dumb. You’re home for the weekend, which just so happens to be the same weekend Eddie is in Hawkins on a personal errand. The longtime crush on him bubbles to the surface as you meet him, giving into the temptation of small summer dresses and bubblegum gloss for the fun of it. Until your dad is called in to an emergency work meeting. Then the fun of torture becomes temptation.

Warnings: Older Rockstar!Eddie, Harrington!Reader (Steve’s daughter), multichapter build up, excessive use of nicknames, no use of y/n, use of marijuana, perv!Eddie, this chapter has some forced proximity, tension and uh oh feelings.

Describes: long hair, shorter than Eddie by a few inches, reader is described to look like her mom (can be ANY race) with Steve’s freckles. No skin colour, body shape/type

Word Count: 3.7k (it’s the shortest one, I promise I’m so sorry 😭)

Chapter 2

The first thing you did when you got into Eddie Munson’s little red corvette was peel the window open, claiming you had just needed some fresh air. It was true, as his scent had choked you as soon as you sat down on the dark gray leather seats. It’s strangely intoxicating, an odd mix of smoke, woodsy, and pure man that has you wanting to take a big whiff like some little pervert.

Strangely even from the window of a rockstar’s corvette the little town looked no more glamorous than it did from your beat up car, the small town feel of it all suffocating as you fill with gratitude you managed to get out. He finally pulls in front of a three story apartment, white walls and balconies so small they make you claustrophobic.

“Uh, how are we supposed to fill this small car with all your uncle’s stuff?” You ask, peering into the backseat as you undo your seatbelt.

He smiles, his eyes momentarily switching between the backseat of the two door car and you. “My van is in the resident’s parking lot, it should have plenty of room to move stuff over.”

“So, donation, your place and your uncle’s place, I’m guessing?” You ask, walking a step behind him to the front door of the building.

“Pretty much. It just comes down to going through it which I know, will be a fucking pain.” He reaches your eyes, giving you a small smile. “Thanks for coming.”

You didn’t have much of a choice.

“Not that you had much of a choice,” he adds as he opens the apartment door, a small bout of laughter filling the halls.

Okay, that was weird.

His uncle lived on the first floor in the corner room in a furnished spot, so all it came down to were the knicknacks he had collected over the years. You didn’t think that’d be so bad until you walked in, your eyes landing on wall to wall collections of mugs and hats and other tiny sentimental things.

“Pretty sure we’re going to end up donating most of the mugs, he doesn’t use them anyway, it’s the hats he’s been fighting tooth and nail for,” he rolls his eyes, grabbing a moving box you haven’t noticed from a stack in a pile against the wall.

“How’d those get here?”

“My assistant brought them with the van,” he explains, setting the box up. “He’s hanging out around town until we pack the van up.”

“Must be nice to have an assistant to take care of that shit,” you muse, your voice only the teeniest bit bitter about it.

He passes you the box, his shoulders shaking in laughter. “I’m aware it sounds pretentious. I only hired him when I kept losing track of which fucking thing I had to do next. Interview, show, interview, photo shoot…it was fucking never ending at times. Sometimes I needed a reminder to fucking eat.”

You grab the box from him, ignoring the twinge in your gut as you walk up to a bookshelf in the corner of the small living room containing many little things. You know time is of the essence, but you can’t help yourself, leaning over to analyze the display his uncle had created. There’s a photo in the center in a simple wooden frame, a gruff older man who you supposed would be Wayne standing arm in arm with Eddie, a much younger, freer Eddie, at least, standing outside in front of a forest area.

Eddie has his hand on his hip, squinting his eyes against the sun with his uncle's arm wrapped around his shoulder. If you’d looked closer, you’d see their reddened faces, blotchy from tears shed but both gritting their teeth for the picture.

“That was the day I left for LA,” you jump at his voice, holding your chest tightly as you turn to look around to face him.

He’s still across the apartment, wrapping the mugs and storing them in a tupperware box. “I have never seen him cry like that in my life. I was scared shitless.”

You avoid his stare, the starry eyed version of him something you’re not quite used to, something stirs deep in your gut that you find oddly unsettling.

In an attempt to ignore it you look closer at the knick knacks surrounding it, suddenly realizing it was just Corroded Coffin merch, tickets, and even demos. “These would be worth a pretty penny,” you turn over the tape in your hand, imagining a rough draft of Eddie’s untuned, inexperienced vocals. “To you, they must be priceless.”

“I could release them if I’d really wanted to, but the songs suck and my voice was even worse,” Eddie shrugs, still moving mugs into their different boxes. You notice how much fuller the one on the left is, Eddie making actual progress in comparison to your dilly-dallied snooping.

“I bet Wayne still wants this.” You sigh, placing the memorabilia gently in the cardboard box, admiring the faded ink from ticket stubs over twenty years ago. The following shelf had a full row of dark fantasy novels, every spine cracked to oblivion with yellowed crinkled pages. “Do you want these?”

Eddie looks over, absentmindedly wrapping a mug when he double, triple takes, his face lighting up like a kid on Christmas. “Oh I thought he threw those away!”

Suddenly the scent of his cologne invades your nose again as he leans right next to you, grabbing at one of the books on the shelf with a giddy grin. “I used to reread these all the time.”

“Princesses needing rescuing in some odd faraway land?” You tease, turning the dark green book over in your hand.

“Usually with some kind of twist,” he hums, analyzing the back of his paperback as he squats his ass an inch over the floor. “Dragons being in cahoots, noble knights acting selfishly, evil kings turning out to be righteously good… there was always some sort of twist,” his narration turned dramatic as the sentence moved on, a story teller’s voice.

It reminded you of one specific fun fact. “Uncle Dustin said you were his dungeon master in high school, were these any inspiration?”

Eddie’s brows furrow deeply, jerking his head as swivels sharply upward. “Somehow it’d slipped my mind that you would know Dust.”

You nod absentmindedly, taking in the fantastical names in the description. Lysandra the princess, Eletha the fae, King Alistair… “Unfortunately.”

“Hmm,” he peeps, fluttering through the pages. “Aah, Sorceress Nyrinn teaching Lysandra basic magic, this takes me back.”

You smile down at him, how his dimples are deeply embedded in his cheeks and his front canines peek from behind that wide grin as he skims through his harlequin equivalent chock full of fantasy and adventure.

“Any of these girls you’ve ever fantasized about rescuing?” You tease him, starting to toss the books in a box labeled Eddie Home. He remains silent, even a pink tinge dusting his ears. “I was joking, sire.”

“Just keep packing,” he grumbles, tossing the book carelessly into your very organized box. “I’m gonna go take a quick smoke break.”

You find yourself fallen into an easy pattern, having figured out what Eddie’s looking to keep very early on. He’s even willing to go through the boxes that have been long stored at Wayne’s apartment, insisting they don’t need any dead weight, not in Wayne’s small sized room, and not lugged across a few state lines back in LA.

One of the boxes stored in Wayne’s closet seems like it was just thrown together until you realize they were all belongings of a teenage boy. A soft smile graces your face as you imagine Wayne unable to part with the little part of seventeen year old Eddie he still had with him, even if it’s his messy room thrown into a box.

You pick up a small shoe box, the items clunkily jumping about when you shake it. It’s only logical that the box should hold a few dozen player’s dice and painted figurines. The box’s heavy weight is largely contributed to by the worn out and outdated version of the player’s manual.

You take note of the sticky notes curled and faded peeking out of the pages, messy scrawl noting a page Eddie must’ve used for referral once or twice.

One set of dice had a familiar red and plank pattern, painted to look like his prized guitar. You smooth your thumb along the ridged paint, putting the box aside for Eddie despite the protests he will so obviously yelp out.

He deserves to be a bit more forgiving of that side of himself.

There were a handful of items you picked up and put aside for donation, a few old music tapes, a guitar string placement poster, until something catches your eye; a well loved classified notebook.

Now, you might’ve been wrong, but you always had the feeling that Eddie wasn’t too interested in his school work, all items from his locker having been tossed in the garbage the moment the last bell rang each year. As you tentatively open the book, you realize it was probably the one thing that kept him going back.

Each lined paper was filled with his messy scrawl, an intriguing combination of cursive and print, extensively detailed plans for his run as, so Dustin called him, a vindictive and tyrannical dungeon master. Across the scrawl were doodles, well shaded pencil drawings of creatures and classes alike. One page caught your eye towards the end, a full page of scattered doodles that seemed eerily familiar to you.

“Wow.” You look up to face Eddie leaned against the door frame with his arms across his chest, his eyes trained on the notebook in your hands. “I haven’t seen that in a while.”

You glance back down to the page and its doodles, still trying to make sense of where you could’ve seen it. As if plucked out of thin air, a song starts playing in your head and it clicks. “Hey you used these doodles on an album cover.”

He nods, watching your hands gently touch the graphite on the paper. “You could totally donate these to a rock and roll museum; they'd think it's dope.”

Eddie shakes his head, as if the idea was ridiculous. “No one wants to see my ratty old notebook filled with my dateless evenings. There’s not even a single lyric in there.”

“But this is on one of your albums, isn’t it?”

He nods, smiling softly at the abstract doodles before glancing up to you. “I don’t want it, I would never look at it. Take it, if you want.”

You were already tempted to steal it, the notebook having a scent that’s so specifically Eddie with an added elixir of teenage boy added to the mix making maybe your one true Kryptonite. “Whaaaaat? Why would I take it?”

“Steve said you’re a fan of our music, yeah?” You nod meekly, still tracing the graphite. “Well if not, it's going in the trash.”

You put it in your purse.

Since your father left that morning, so did the tether that kept your head on straight, any lingering ideas kept at bay as you kept a safe distance. It was gone.

Keeping a safe distance as an act of self discipline all but seemed moot when your dad offered your services, now stuck in a tiny apartment working around Eddie as his gentle voice hums to the music blasting through his phone.

Maybe a dress isn’t the best choice to wear for manual labor such as packing and moving boxes, the length obviously not long enough to cover the bright underwear. Maybe it's the little allowance you give yourself to indulge in defiance against your own rule. Regardless, it was safer to stay as far away as possible.

Fate proves herself to be a cruel mistress as you find yourself on your tiptoes, reaching up to grab something on a shelf you wondered why someone elderly had a shelf stored so high on the wall, and you smelt him before you felt him, reaching to the shelf’s level to grab it for you.

“Why the hell did he have a shelf this fuckin’ high for?” He huffs, tossing the hidden box onto the bed.

He steps away as fast as he came, leaving the room with a few boxes you had packed and ready. The moment clouds your brain, his strong torso completely against your back, his hot breath on your neck as he stepped away. What the hell?

Your heart pitter patters, your whole body frazzled while you put a few more boxes by the door.

As you’re leaning down to pick up another box you hear Eddie swear loudly down the hall in disgust. He uses the lord’s name in vain several times, rubbing his hand on his pants as his face twists up in utter revulsion when you peek out to see the culprit.

“Somethin’ gross? I don’t see anything wrong with this picture,” you comment, looking around his setting for what might have set him off.

“Don’t–” his hands fly up to prevent you from taking another step. His overly wide eyes and panicked state would usually have you laughing if you weren’t so curious to what could possibly send him into this frantic state of disgust. “You don’t want to know, trust me.”

“Now I really do want to know,” you insist, still scanning the room.

“No. You don’t.” He shakes his head solemnly, his foot slowly shuffling slightly to his left. “Seriously.”

“Can I at least have a hint?” You plead, knowing the possibilities will drive you crazy all day.

“I just found a box of my old clothes,” Eddie starts, gesturing to a kaleidoscope of different shades of black with an occasional band font, unfolded as if thrown in a hurry.

He obviously is hinting towards something, but you need some more exposition. “...Ok?”

Eddie pauses to think, hands on his hips as he racks his brain for something. “Think of it this way. Think of the one item of clothing you don’t want to find under a teenage boy’s bed, twenty years later. Especially twenty years later.” He shudders again.

The one thing…oh. “Oh my god,” you giggle, hiding your obvious glee over his disgust behind your hand. “A…sock?”

Eddie nods slowly, nodding his head in what must be mortification. “Uh huh. I am burning this whole bucket of clothes that just–” he shudders, his left foot inching towards where you had to now guess what must be an absolutely petrified cum-sock lies, “marinated in it.”

A bout of laughter passes through your lips again, disguising the odd intrigue you found yourself in. You might be more perverted than even you initially realized.

No, put away the thought of inhaling in the 20-year-old musk–

“Hey, do you mind helping me with this box? It’s ridiculously heavy,” Eddie gestures down the hall to a tote seemingly filled to the brim with random shit, the sock supposedly tossed into the garbage by then.

“No problem.”

“You want me to walk backward?” He offers, reaching your eyes as you both bend over to grab at the awkward edges.

“Yeah that’d be great,” You cough, failing to ignore the cigarette on his breath just barely disguised by the mint.

Step by step you help him around the corners until you help lift the box into his van, refusing to allow yourself more than a singular moment lingering on how his arms bulge through the lift.

Wayne had a bedside table he hadn’t gone through, filled with momentums over the years. You grab one of the smaller boxes from the living room to hold them, wanting to take care of the things that Wayne had cared for. There were a few photos, Eddie in scattered years from an angsty teenager to a rowdy kid with a missing front tooth. It was obvious everything in his bedside would be moved back to Wayne, allowing him his precious memories of the boy he cared for.

Allotted between the table and the bed is a photo album, something you suspect is cover to cover filled with more photos until you get the glimpse of a brightly coloured pape, just a millisecond but enough to peak your curiosity.

By the second page you’re in tears, softly sniffling at messy scribblings with silly puns and elaborate doodles.

“Hey, when you get a sec–” Eddie stops mid-sentence, taking you in on the bare bed as you weepily turn a page. “You okay?”

“Oh,” you wipe away the tear that was shed, embarrassed. “I’m fine. It’s just— it’s so obvious he went through this a lot, some pages are worn out.”

“Let’s see,” he holds his hand out for the photo album, a drop of weight on the bed as he peers shoulder to shoulder with you as he reads over the pages in front of you. “Oh, wow.”

You put the book in his outstretched hands, watching his expression turn misty as well. The deceitful photo album is an album of father’s day cards, about twenty of them all lined in a row with Eddie’s well wishes in each one.

“I started sending them when I was 25,” he mumbles, his voice wet as he turns a page. “I figured since he raised me n’ all, he deserved the title and the recognition.”

“Seems like he felt honored,” you comment, watching page by page.

“I picked these cards out in less than a second but he puts them in a pressed fucking photo album,” he laughs, shaking his head. “Wayne is ridiculous. But he’s always been my biggest supporter.”

Impulsively, you nudge your chin on his shoulder affectionately, watching him flip through the last through the final few pages. You wondered if his vulnerability making you even crazier for him would be an isolated incident.

God sure had a sick sense of humor when he tied emotion and lust for women.

Turns out, you two work remarkably well together because by the time Eddie places the photo album in the box with a not so subtle sniffle, Wayne’s room, kitchen, and livingroom are all packed up and ready for distribution. The things going home with Eddie and to Wayne’s room are in the van stacked like tetris with your very ‘helpful’ commentary and the donations are piled up by the front door waiting for their collection.

The little red corvette has been sitting in the hot sun for a few hours by the time you’re back into it, ready for a night off your feet.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m starving,” Eddie comments, taking a turn away from your house.

Your stomach growls at the mention of food, still only two slices of toast being the one thing used to sustain your appetite for the day. “I could definitely eat.”

“Good, I need to thank you for your help.”

You avoid his intense gaze from the corner of your eye, staring holes into your thighs. “It was nothing–”

“What’s your favourite spot in town?” Eddie seems to be ignoring your protests, meeting them with an exaggerated huff as if you were acting foolish.

“I don’t mind if you take me to the nearest one, Munson. I’m starving,” you insist, laughing at the manic shaking of his head.

“I’m not taking you anywhere except your favorite spot,” Eddie insists right back, without missing a beat.

No wonder he and Steve had managed to stay friends for so long, he matches your stubbornness step for step.

“Fine! Take me to Miss.Tina’s I haven’t had their burgers since I’ve been back,” you think back to their fully stacked burgers paired with their crinkle fries drizzled in mustard. You still haven’t been able to find a burger from a local restaurant near your campus that even rivals Miss.Tina’s recipe.

“Oh, I know you’re fucking with me,” Eddie laughs, taking the left turn at the traffic lights.

“Nope,” you inform him, shaking your head slowly. “It’s always been my favourite place in town.”

“Well call that dumb luck, because it’s my fuckin’ favourite place, too.”

“I take it back.”

You laugh at his deadpan, noting the new decor around the walls since the last time you’ve seen it.

“It’s not that bad.” It is, you’re just hoping he doesn’t leave because of the change.

“Are you shitting me?” Eddie deadpans, glancing around to the updated insides now turned into a hollow husk of a restaurant. At least, it certainly felt like the funeral march of your once beloved restaurant. “It’s a horrendous study in interior design. Who the hell paints the inside of a restaurant bright orange?”

“Ok, it’s that bad, but I just need a damn good burger.” You lead the way into the line, noting their updating point of sale. Last time you were there the employee had still been using a notepad, this time an iPad had been stationed on a stand.

The employee now wears some updated uniform barring the design, a bright smile on her face as she greets the two of you. Definitely not the deadened stare you were used to.

The mustard packet you received was a third of the size of what they used to be. It seems Miss.Tina’s has finally met empty corporate capitalism.

The decor might’ve changed, but the recipes remain as always untouched, a collective groan in satisfaction in your first bites in the tacky booth confirmation that Miss.Tina’s still fucks.

“If they change their recipe they are so screwed,” Eddie says exactly what you’re thinking between bites, wiping his face from the sauces that splatters his lips. As he wipes it off, you start to think of making out with him in the booth and lapping up and cleaning his messy face for him. Some real good messy make outs.

You nod, taking a sip from the large soda that must be at least 5 ounces smaller. “Oh, they’d shut down within the week.”

“This was one of the only few places where every group in Hawkins High could be seen, because they didn’t care when we loitered and Miss.Tina treated us like her own.” Eddie glances upward at a sign right by the table, NO LOITERING.

“That’s kind of really depressing,” you sigh, munching on your fry through a fucking wooden fork. “I am not sure I want these fries lathered in mustard enough to also add the taste of wood to it.”

“Plenty of wood has been tasted in these walls before,” Eddie smirks, raising his pierced brow when you choke on the following fry.

It’s like he prides himself on how he manages to make your brain short circuit so easily. Thankfully, years of being raised in the Harrington household has trained a keen sense of wit into you. “Judging on those princess books, Munson,” you take another sip, letting the beginning of your sentence settle in, “doesn’t seem like yours was one of them.”

The fry that bounced off your forehead the moment after was worth it, and the rosy pink that bloomed across his cheeks was even more so.

I have 99% done at this point I’m so excited for y’all to read it!!!

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Taglist for Ice Cream, Bikinis, and Other Ways To Torture Him: @emxxblog @transparentenemypenguin @stylesxmunson @ali-r3n @mediocredreams @miaajaade @dreamerjj @prestinalove @pretty-pink-princess @alesiaaa @moonisu @love-anonymous-writer @marlena-marlena @bl1ssfulbaby @kellsck @rockmusiciscalming12 @eddie-munsonsbitch

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