#you might wanna get your hearing checked munson

[mrsjellymunson]

Say Hello To My Little Friend

Written for the @steddiemicrofic August prompt ‘plug’ | WC: 437 | Rating: M | CW: Secret crush, embarrassment, mentions of a sex toy | Tags: mishearing/misunderstanding, getting together. Mature content below the cut, MDNI.

“You’d really want one?”

“Yeah, I definitely want a plug…”

The seniors’ keggers were loud, but overhearing Steve yell that over the clamour was something Eddie never expected.

His birthday was coming up, so perhaps this year Eddie would find the ideal present, something so-very-Steve, but that also says, by the way, I like you.

Eddie spends ages scouring his favourite shops, looking for the perfect butt plug for his crush, if such a thing even exists. He settles on something in sleek black silicone, a nice size for a beginner but also functional. With rhinestones on the end, because nothing's too good for his princess.

On Steve's birthday the gang gathers in his backyard. Food is consumed and Steve gets his presents. But this year Eddie hangs back, nervous. He sidles up to Steve late in the afternoon.

“I, uh… I have something for you, but I need to give it to you… in private.”

“Ooh. Is it…?”

Eyebrows bouncing, Steve pinches his thumb and forefinger together, waggling a giant invisible blunt.

“N-no, it’s…”

Before Eddie can explain that it’s significantly more personal, there’s a sudden furore. Amongst a chorus of squeals Robin appears - with a puppy in her arms. It’s unusual-looking, with a squashed face and a passing resemblance to Winston Churchill (and Dustin’s baby photos, but nobody brings that up). Steve rushes over, grinning, petting it and asking,

“Who’s this??”

Robin replies,

“She’s for you! A birthday gift from me and your folks.”

Steve’s beside himself, cooing at the furry bundle as Robin explains to everyone about the rescue pound two towns over, and how Steve’s parents helped with the adoption from afar, delighted for Steve to have company as they’re so often away.

Eventually leaving the puppy playing with the kids, Steve follows Eddie when he retreats for a cigarette, getting him alone.

“So, where’s my present?”

“Uhh, Steve, I-”

Steve lunges for Eddie’s jacket pocket, pulling out a prettily wrapped parcel and tearing it open before Eddie can stop him.

Handling the smooth silicone, Steve’s initially aghast, then intrigued, and finally confused.

“Wait, is this because of what I said at the party? When I told Robin I wanted a Pug!”

Eddie’s mortified, heat building in his chest and spreading up his neck.

“Yeah, I know that now. Please, don’t make this worse…”

He goes to move away, but Steve grabs his jacket, stopping him. He slides his hand down to Eddie’s hip, gently squeezing.

“Y’know, I’ve actually always wanted one of these too.”

Stepping closer, he adds, voice low,

“You’re gonna have to show me how to use it, though.”

🐶

PSA: Please adopt, don’t shop. Also, neuter your pets.

Thanks so much for reading!

My masterlist

Tagging my usuals, ILY all: @joejoequinnquinn @jamdoughnutmagician @guiltyasquinn @madaboutmunson @airen256 @sunshinepeachx @the-unforgivenn @skrzydlak @comeonatmebruh @jamiecb66 @80s-addict @abellmunsonmovie @definitionwanderlust @sheneedsrocknroll92 @munson-blurbs @wonderlanddreamer @daisy-munson @maedesculpaeusoubi @kurdtbean @mediocredreams

[munson-blurbs]

Thinking about Rockstar!Eddie meeting you at an autograph signing and getting off to the thought of you after his show...

“Here ya go,” Eddie says, forcing a tired smile as he hands a freshly-autographed CD to a beaming fan. Pre-show merch signings were part of the deal, and they certainly brought in the extra cash, but after five months on the road, the members of Corroded Coffin are tired. Eddie scratches at the five o’clock shadow dotting his face, glancing at his watch. Just another ten minutes until they can wrap this up and start soundcheck. Then they’ll be back on the bus, shipping off to whatever city’s up next.

The security guard lets the next two people up to the table. Eddie reaches over to the pile of CDs, giving an exasperated sigh as he asks, “Name?”

That’s when he hears your voice.

His head snaps up, and he relaxes as he takes in your shy demeanor. You’re holding the hand of your friend–girlfriend?--hey, it’s the ‘90s; anything is possible. Your eyes sparkle as you say and spell your first name, biting your lower lip and averting your gaze from the gorgeous rockstar in front of you. “Pretty name,” he murmurs, writing a short message and swirling the Sharpie over the CD cover to make his exaggerated signature. “Pretty name for a pretty girl, yeah?”

You just giggle, and the girl next to you squeezes your hand. ��She’s, like, completely in love with you,” she blabbers. “Every damn day since we got these tickets, it’s been, ‘What should I wear? Do you think Eddie will notice me?’”

You free your hand to elbow her, a little harsher than you’d intended. “Dianna!” you hiss, burying your face in your palms in a feeble attempt to hide your humiliation.

But Eddie just cocks his head, checking you out from head to toe. “Oh, he definitely noticed you,” he muses, handing you the CD with two lanyards. “You ladies wanna watch backstage? ‘Course you do; Charlie will bring you where you gotta go and, uh,” he looks directly at you, sending an excited shiver down your spine, “maybe we can notice each other a bit more later.”

You and Dianna nod vigorously as the beefy security guard leads you to the backstage VIP suite. A waiter comes around and takes your drink orders. You ask for a vodka soda, and Dianna gets a Long Island iced tea.

“You sure about that?” you whisper as the waiter walks away. “Those are really strong.”

Dianna shrugs. “It’s not every day we get free drinks. Might as well drink as much as we can.”

Meanwhile, Eddie’s fumbling his way through soundcheck, thinking about the way your breasts peeked out the top of your Corroded Coffin tank top, how your denim shorts perfectly cupped your ass, the shiny gloss that emphasized your lips. God, he wants those lips wrapped around his hard, throbbing��

“Munson? You wanna get your head out of your ass so we can put on a show?” Jeff’s voice booms through his mic. 

“He’s thinking about that hot chick he gave backstage passes to,” Gareth teases, and Simon makes kissy noises at their lead singer.

Eddie launches his guitar pick in Gareth’s direction, narrowly missing his head. “Shut the fuck up, all of you,” he grumbles, but he knows that they’re right. Just get through the show and she’s all yours. He palms himself over his pants discreetly. He’s never been more grateful for his guitar, since his tight leather pants do nothing to hide his burgeoning erection.

Corroded Coffin puts on a hell of a show, as usual. They close with “Rock Hard,” their hit single about hooking up with a groupie after a concert, and Eddie thanks every celestial being that it’s the last song of the night. As soon as the band thanks the audience and says their goodbyes, Eddie dashes offstage. He bolts into your suite, all sweat and smiles. “How’d you like the–” He stops, frowning when he sees an empty room, save for Charlie, who’s smoking a cigarette in a lounge chair. “Where is she?”

“Sorry, Casanova,” Charlie drawls. “Her little friend drank too much, got sick all over the bathroom. Had to get them outta here before she ruined anything else.”

Eddie groans, throwing his head back as his bandmates laugh at his misfortune. “Goddammit,” he hisses, pushing his perspiration-soaked hair from his eyes.

“C’mon, man,” Simon claps a hand on Eddie’s back. “There’s a bar down the street; plenty of the girls from the show will be there…” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

“Nah, I’m just gonna head back to the bus. ‘M pretty beat.”

“Oh, something’s getting beat tonight,” Gareth jokes. Eddie flips him off, but once again, he’s right.

He’s barely closed the curtain to his makeshift bedroom before he’s hastily unbuttoning his leather pants, shoving his ringed hand into his boxer briefs. Just the sensation of his own touch has him bucking his hips. He runs his thumb over the bead of pre-cum pearling at his tip, using it to lubricate his palm. He uses his free hand to tug his pants down to his knees, sitting on the bed. He imagines you on your knees in front of him.

“S’big, isn’t it, baby?” Eddie coos. He leans over, letting a trail of saliva drip from his mouth to his shaft. “Thas’ right, spit on it. Such a dirty fuckin’ girl.” He grips the bedsheet with his left hand, dragging his right from base to tip. 

“What’s that? You want it in your mouth? Oh, pretty girl; you don’t have to ask twice.”

He fucks into his fist harder, feeling himself grow in his own grasp. “Mmm, let me make a mess of that face. Ruin that fuckin’ makeup you worked so hard on. Wanted me to notice you; well, I sure fuckin’ did. Knew I had to have you, sweet thing.” If you were actually here, you’d be gagging on his dick as your nose grazes the thatch of curls on his pevlis, tears reflexively gathering at the corners of your eyes. Your mascara would start to run; the telltale sign of a good blowjob.

He loosens his hold on the sheet, cupping his balls. “If you do that, ‘m gonna bust in that sinful mouth of yours, fuckin’ swear.” A harsh chuckle escapes his throat. “Bet you’d like that. Bet you’d take my whole load down your throat, swallow it all, yeah?”

Eddie brings himself right to the edge before forcing himself to slow down. “I know, baby. I know you wanna keep sucking me off. But I wanna–no, I gotta be in that perfect little pussy. Now, come sit on my cock. Nice and slow–thassit.” He tightens his grip on his length, keeping a slow rhythm to mimic the feeling of gradually filling you up. “You can take it, don’t worry. I’ve got you, baby girl.”

He bites his lower lip so hard that he swears it might bleed. “Oh, angel. Y’feel even better than I ever imagined, holy fuck.” He increases his pace, choking out a pathetic moan. “What’s that? You want me to come inside you? So desperate f’me, aren’t you?” He whimpers at the mental image of you bouncing on his cock, tits pressed up against the dusting of hair on his chest. “Come with me, fuck, wanna make you come. Want you to cream my cock while I fuckin’ fill you up.” Eddie lets out one last pornographic moan as thick, hot ropes of cum spurt out onto his thick fingers. He pants, trying to catch his breath as he comes down from the high of his orgasm.

Cleaning himself up, Eddie grumbles to himself about your stupid drunk friend and how he’s so tired of fucking his own hand. He falls asleep quickly, worn out from the combination of the concert and his own post-show escapades.

The next morning, Eddie wakes up and wipes the sleep from his eyes. The bus driver has already set out for their next destination, somewhere in Bumblefuck. Eddie doesn’t care, he just wants you. Real you, not the fantasy he’d conjured up last night.

“Hey, boss,” Charlie says when Eddie pads out to the bus’s common space. “Forgot to give this to you after the show.” He hands him a folded piece of paper, which reads:

Eddie:

Had to get Dianna home before she puked on the carpet. I was not paying for that to be replaced–the tickets for your autograph already bankrupted me…

But if you wanna stop by my hotel room later, just give me a call. I don’t think you were done noticing me. I certainly wasn’t done noticing you. 

xo

You signed your name with a glossy lip print and your hotel room extension.

“Charlie,” Eddie starts through gritted teeth, “if you can convince the driver to turn this bus around, I won’t fire you.”

--

[carolmunson]

let's go, don't wait: part II (e.m. x f!reader)

inspired by this prompt by @edsforehead - it's not exactly the same but i did my best! series masterlist summary: modern!eddie's been single since 2020 and aside from getting his dick wet after weekend shows at the hideout, he hasn't been going out of his way for love until his friends make him. cw: 18+ for adult themes. alcohol use, swearing, phone sex, smut, oral (f receiving). some sad childhood talk, all around this is a fluff piece so nothing too bad. (19K words.)

With how easy the first date had been to make, Eddie wasn’t expecting it to be so hard to pin you down for the next one. Neither of your schedules had lined up for the rest of the week, and up until next Friday neither of you had much free time. You either had to stay at work late or he had to stay late for the three extracurriculars he was running (jazz club, D&D club, and co-runner of the school’s GSA) – which he’d only be annoyed about running if he didn’t absolutely love the kids. The extra overtime didn’t hurt either, perks of working at a rich kid private arts school.

At first he was nervous you were busy going on dates with other guys until he called you one night and he could hear your boss in the background waxing poetic about the shift to lab grown sapphires. Then he’d feel bad for feeling so accusatory to start – you’d never said anything to each other about being exclusive. Hell, you’d only been on one date. But you talked every day, and fuck did that feel good for Eddie. 

g’morning pretty  ew you’re obsessed with me. good morning, boy

He’s happy he knows you’re joking because he’s certain no other guy would get it. He knows you read his text and screamed into your pillow, cheeks hot and chest thrumming. That’s why you always have to respond so mean so that he doesn’t know how much you like him back. This backfires, because he can tell that the meaner you are, the more you like his attention.

what’s your weekend look like? i know you leave for AZ on sunday but i’d really like to see you before you go. 

You were headed to a gem trade show in Tucson on Sunday for a few days. You went every year you’d been working for your boss, you told him all about it on the phone. You’re cute when you’re excited but he didn’t want to embarrass you by saying so – just let you rattle on about all the things you get to see. You promised to send him pictures of some of the cool fossils you might come across, all of the big crystal furniture.  “You were a weird dinosaurs kind of kid, right? You’d be into pictures of fossils?" “Why are you so mean? Would you go up to nine year old me and call him a weird kid that’s into dinosaurs?” “No, he’d be so sad.” “So next time you wanna say some mean shit, imagine you’re saying it to nine year old me.” “I bet you were a cute kid,” you thought out loud, “You’re a really cute adult.” 

“You think I’m cute?” “The cutest.” His face burned at every compliment you offered him, flushing dark pink at every sweet word you said. He was a mess. Embarrassment would flood him when he’d check his phone during class, the kids would never let him hear the end of it.  “Did you meet her on Tinder, Mr. E?”  “This is not appropriate class discussion guys,” his eyes would shut tight in frustration when they’d catch him texting you back and he’d reluctantly tuck his phone into his back pocket. They were way bolder than he was at their age. “No because like, you’re so happy though. Look how you’re smiling when you text her.” “Mr. Munson’s got that W rizz.”  “Is she hot?” “Be fucking forreal. He’s blushing so hard right now.” “Smash or pass, Munson?” “Guys, can you relax? You literally have a test right now." Bzz. Bzz.

i gotta run errands on saturday and go then leave sunday night :( working late friday cause we need to take gem inventory essentially He sighed, he didn’t want to wait until next Friday to see you again. 

i could run errands with you if you’ll have me. i’ll drive! you sure? it’s not super exciting stuff. you make it exciting. :) i’ll take you out to lunch. sound good? okay :) okay :)  see you saturday, cutie omg shut up 🙄 but yeah. see you saturday. :) 

He was nervous you’d notice he got his interior detailed the night before, but he was too embarrassed to let you get into the car in its original glory. He honked the horn in three short bursts, being mindful of the neighbors even though it was around 9:30 in the morning.  You inch out of the door of your place, the first floor of a quaint three family home, in your Princess Diana best. You dressed for errands and his heart swells, leggings and a big sweatshirt, little white sneakers and socks. You look cute like this, hurrying outside with your paper Old Navy bag blowing in the wind, relaxed and laid back. But you aren’t for long, you take a step outside only to feel the chill in the ‘second winter’ air of March and raise a finger to him before running back inside — reappearing with a lightweight parka haphazardly thrown on. You patter to the car and he tries to ignore his heart rate speeding up while he leans over to open it for you. “Hey you,” he smiles, “Good morning.”  “Morning,” you say with a coy smile. His chest leans forward slightly to kiss you as you settle in but he stops short. Are you there yet? You only kissed that night last week. What if you weren’t ready to kiss again? He swallows, settling back into his seat but recognizing how his car fills with your scent. You smell so fucking good he could eat you.  “So what’s the agenda, sugar?” he asks.   “Okay, agenda: Target, Old Navy for a return,” you say, raising your bag, “I have to run into Sephora to pick up some sunscreen for my boss, and um…I think that’s it? They’re all in the same shopping center over by um – by the movie theater.”  “Oh yeah,” he nods, “I know the one.”  He reaches for the sound system, turning the volume up a little, Lamb of God’s Vanishing crunching through his speakers. He watches for your reaction and can tell you don’t know it, but you don’t seem appalled or repulsed.  “Do you have a tunes preference?” he asks, voice velvety smooth, eyes catching on your parted lips, “It’s a long drive.”  “Uh…” your knee bounces faster, “I mean it’s your car. We should listen to what you wanna listen to.”  “Honey, I’m like your Uber driver today,” he offers, head tilting while he looks over at you. Eddie’s gaze lingers on your face with soft eyes, lashes a shadow over his irises, “How’m I gonna get a five star review if you don’t like the music?” 

“I do!” you assure aggressively, “I do like it.”

“Here, I have a plan,” he nods, holding his hand out, “Gimme your phone.” 

You toss him a look which triggers an eye roll from him, “Just trust me, give me your phone.” 

“Here’s the bargain, I connect your tunes to my car,” he mumbles while he disconnects his phone from the car’s Bluetooth and connects yours instead, “But I get to pick the songs. Deal?” 

A giggle bubbles out of you, shoulders shaking loosely, “That’s ridiculous.” 

“But is it a deal?” he asks again. He takes a breath that inflates his chest, while you consider it. It’s not fair that you look so cute this morning, it’s not fair that he doesn’t have the confidence to just reach over and lay one on you like they do in the movies. He wasn’t lying when he said you were so kissable. 

“It’s a deal,” you nod. He watches your knee slow down to stopping. Eddie swallows, eyes traveling from your knees to your full thighs sitting fat in his passenger's seat with a quick scan that you don’t notice. 

“Okay, so let’s see…” he mutters, going into your music and scrolling through your artists, landing pretty early on with an enthusiastic nod that makes his waves bounce around his face. 

“Blood Brothers?” he asks, “Wow, you really did hate your dad, huh? I haven’t heard this album in years.”

“I started liking them for a boy back in high school,” you shrugged while he thumbed through the tracks, “Then started liking them forreal.” “That’s okay,” he smiles over at you, “You’d be surprised to see my Spotify wrapped every year. Never as mean and scary as you’d expect.” 

“No?” your brows raise, “Not a bunch of ‘Stabby Metal Scream Crunch Stab’ in your top ten?” 

He scoffs, settling on ‘Set Fire to the Face on Fire’, the opening Fire! Fire! Fire! leaking through the speakers, “I married the head cheerleader at my high school – I’d like to think my music taste is pretty eclectic. Metal’s just, y’know, the main course. Plenty of side dishes on my roster.” 

“You a big fan of having something on the side?” you quirk a brow at him through the rear view mirror while he puts the car in drive. He scoffs again, lips twitching up into a smirk. You’re quick and it makes his blood rush, his fingers drum nervously on the wheel while he keeps the car in place.

“Why’re you so mean, huh?” he teases, “Do I look like the kind of guy that’s had a lot of side pieces?” 

“Oh,” you start, giving him a once over, “Not even close.” 

“You’re here with me, aren’t you?” he asks, putting the car in park again. He turns down the volume, turning his body completely towards you. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right,” you drone, turning yourself toward him in return,  “I guess I am.” Eddie clears his throat, tongue flicking over his full lips to wet them. 

“So uh…before we hit the road,” his voice cracks, heart rattling in its cage, trapped in his chest, “D’you-think-I-could-steal-a-kiss-good-morning?” It pours out of his mouth while his body goes numb – like the bandaid was ripped off but someone else did it for him. His hopeful voice when he presents the offer sounds foreign to him, but he knows what he’s asking you. Blood rushes in his ears, the steady thump of his heart pounding through his veins. Your bottom lip tucks into your teeth, eyes shutting briefly with anticipation, a tiny chuckle huffs through your nose. Your knee starts to bounce again. 

“Yeah, but it’s not stealing if I’m letting you have one,” you reply, your own voice becoming delicate and girlish, teenage nerves coasting down your throat through the back of your neck. He leans close to you, engulfed again in the scent of your perfume, head leaning to the side slightly while your movements mirror his. Eddie brings a hand up to hold your face, keeping you steady while he goes in for the kill, one he’d been hoping to make since he saw you last. Heart stuck in his throat, he almost feels a sob shoot through his chest when his lips touch yours. It’s as soft and warm as he remembers. As soft and warm as the moment he’s been replaying in his head since last Monday. 

You both break apart but he doesn’t move away from your face, hand dropping from your cheek to your bouncing knee where he gives it a gentle squeeze, “Are you nervous?” 

“I don’t know,” you shrug, “I think maybe, yeah. But I’m excited, too. Y’know, to spend the day with you.” 

It’s his turn to feel giddy and embarrassed, a flush building steadily on the apples of his cheeks, “If it makes you feel any better, I’m nervous, too. But it’s  just gonna be a nice, chill day, okay?” 

“Okay,” you nod, both of you wearing matching smiles. 

“I do have a rule, though,” his brows furrow, implying he’s serious. You look very seriously back at him. 

“I gotta kiss you every time you’re startin’a look a little too good,” he gives you a shrug of one shoulder before settling back into the driver’s seat while he pulls onto the road, “Cause I don’t know if you saw, but the way you look this morning is fucking illegal.” 

You let out a soft tsss from between your teeth, shaking your head while you settle back into your seat, “You’re so stupid.” 

“I’m just a man, sugar,” he tilts his head, readjusting behind the wheel before putting the car back in drive. He restarts the song before pulling onto the road, feeling like maybe this errands date would go much, much better than he’d planned. He drums on the steering wheel again, head softly bouncing along with the beat of the song while the lyrics scream through the car. You mouth along with them, staring out the window while you do. 

‘Those cold hooks, cemetery claws raking at the infant's jaws,Set fire to the horse on fire,Set fire to the dress on fire,Set fire to the stage on fire,Set fire to the stars on fire!’

“Damn, me and the band shoulder cover this,” he nods to himself, “We’d fuckin’ crush.” 

“Can you scream like that?” you ask, turning your head to face him, “I feel like I’d blow my vocal chords.” 

“Eh, sorta kinda,” he tilts his head from side to side, “I got plenty of practice. Do plenty of screaming with our own stuff, you sorta train your voice up to do it. I might not be able to scream as high but, I could harmonize with Jeff – lead guitar if you remember –” “I remember,” you smile, “And his wife Alycia.” 

“And is wife Alycia! Damn, look at you,” he smiles, “You should write my memoirs. But yeah, surprisingly Jeff can get pretty high up there – it’s super impressive.”

“Well when you cover it, I’ll come watch,” you nod, “You still haven’t really told me about your band.” 

“Corroded Coffin?” he asks, turning into a coffee shop drive-thru and pulling up behind a short line of cars, “Not much to tell. We play shows every couple weeks, in the summer every week, at a few bars around the city that are into that scene. We have fun – still play at our old stomping grounds in Hawkins, too. Same five drunks cheering us on for the last twelve years.” 

His eyes widen at the realization, “Twelve years, Jesus. I’m so fuckin’ old.”   

“Oh, thank god I only have two years until I’m fuckin’ old,” you laugh, “You don’t look old.” 

“You don’t look old either,” he smiles, giving you a once over that you immediately feel shy under, “What can I get you?” 

“Oh no, no,” you shake your head, reaching for your wallet in your Old Navy bag, “I’ll get it, seriously. You’re driving me.” 

“No, please, I’ll get it,” he says, pushing your hand down gently while you offer your card. 

“I wanna pay for it, you’re already going out of your way to do all this boring shit,” you offer again. He plucks your card from your fingers and flicks it into the backseat. He shrinks when your smile falls, you’re very obviously not taken by his actions. 

“Look,” he shrugs, voice lowering, “I didn’t wanna say anything cause I didn’t know how you’d react. But this location actually doesn’t accept money from women. I know, crazy right? So sexist. Its so gross of me to still go here when it’s totally against all my shit. But since they don’t accept any payments from women, I’m gonna have to pay or else we can’t get coffee.” 

You roll your eyes but can’t hold back your laugh, “Fuck, why do you have to be funny about it?” 

“You think I’m funny, huh?” he grins, pulling up to the microphone box. 

“Yeah, funny lookin’,” you tease. Eddie ‘tsks’ a few times with a shake of his head, looking back at you. 

“What can I get you?” he asks again. 

“Medium, iced, caramel. Almond milk if they have it, regular if not,” you respond, crossing your arms. He orders and can feel your eyes on him, he wants to turn back around and kiss that pout right off your lips. You’re not used to having someone take care of things and he can tell, you don’t like it either. Or at least you don’t know how to let yourself like it. Two givers stuck in a car running errands with each other – he wonders if you’ve ever known how to take. 

He gets the coffees, yours with your milk and flavor, his iced and black. You say thank you when you take it, there’s something about your face when you do, a softness he feels like he’s not supposed to see. 

“Hey, you know my rule,” he says, leaning in again, “You’re startin’ to look at little too good right now.” 

Your embarrassed smile says enough when you close the gap between the two of you, lips pressing together in a soft and gentle peck. 

“Thank you,” he expresses, big brown eyes looking into yours before pulling back onto the streets. He turns the sound system up again, the opening of Cam’ron’s Hey Ma flows through the speakers, he nods enthusiastically. 

“Another banger,” he exclaims. 

“You know this song?” you ask with surprise. 

“I grew up in a trailer park, baby. You hear a lot of different music out there,” he shrugs. Eddie feels his throat choke up when he realizes he called you baby. But at least if you hated it, you weren’t showing any sign that you did. 

“Got drops. Got coupes. Got trucks. Got jeeps. Alright, 'cause we gon' take a ride tonight So ma. Wassup? Let's slide. Alright. Alright, and we gon' get it on tonight.” He likes that you’re impressed that he knows the words, of course he does. He grew up hearing this song all of summer 2002, running through the hose with the little kids, while his old baby sitters sat out in lawn chairs to work on their color. Playboy Bunny stickers on their hip bones to show off their tan lines. 

You both sing the opening verse to the windshield, windows coming down an inch as you turn onto the parkway, voices booming over Juelz Sanatana’s. 

“Now I was down town clubbin’, ladies night, Seen shorty she was crazy right, And I approached baby like, ‘Ma, what’s your age and type?’ She looked at me and said, ‘Yous a baby right?’” He hits the last red light before the long stretch of the drive, turning to you to deliver a passionate line reading of the lyrics. He’s surprisingly smooth, even impressing himself at how actually cool he’s being about it. 

“I told her, I’m eighteen and live a crazy life, Plus I’ll tell you what the 80s like, and I know what the ladies like, Need a man that’s polite, listens and takes advice. I can be all three, plus I can lay the pipe. Come with me, come stay the night.” 

He winks when he finishes the line and by the way you stop singing, he knows he’s got you flustered. You are easy. He wants to see how much easier it is. 

“You better be careful,” you warn, tongue caught between your teeth. “Yeah? I better be careful?” he grins, car pushing forward when the light changes so he can turn onto the highway. 

“You’re trouble, Munson,” you shake your head, turning your attention back to the stretch of asphalt ahead of the both of you, “You’re big trouble.” 

“She looked at me laughin’ like, ‘Boy your game is tight.’ I’m laughin’ back like, ‘Sure, you’re right.’” 

“D’you need a cart?” Eddie asks, taking a side step over to the push carts neatly pushed into each other in between the double doors of Target. 

“Nah, if I get a cart I’m just gonna use it as an excuse to buy more stuff,” you pull a face, shoulders dropping dramatically, “And while I’d love to have an excuse to buy more stuff, I just need a basket.” “Basket it is,” he grins, hand wrapping over the hard plastic of one of the handles, tugging a basket loose from where it’s encased with its brothers. You reach your hand out, taking a step closer to the entrance, our step triggers the automatic doors and he files in after you. 

He looks at your outstretched hand behind you and then up at your face, “I can hold it, Ed.” 

He gives you a small shake of his head, “Nah, I’ll carry it. You lead the way. What’s on your list?”  “I mostly just need to get travel stuff…like toiletries,” you think out loud, “I guess this wasn’t really much of a big errand now that I think about it.” 

“That’s okay,” he says, and he means it. 

You don’t go straight to the beauty section. You’re taken by the $5 and under shelves at the front of the store, full of small decor knick knacks that he recognizes from his own apartment. This is where Tati’s always picking up those little gold tchotchkes for the coffee table and bookshelves every other month. The same way Chrissy would always have new, tiny holiday themed pieces every year to sneak onto their mantle.

“So, do you want me to keep you on task?” he asks, falling in step next to you, watching your fingers toy over a felted bunny figurine for Easter, “Or do you want me to aid in you not being on task?” 

You look over at him, eyes scanning over his frame. He catches the way your eyes linger on the way his t-shirt fits him under his leather jacket and denim vest. Dark olive green, a touch too tight in the chest, collar worn out just enough so that the ends of his collar bones peeked through. 

“We have all day, right?” you smirk. 

“All day,” he nods, “You a walking through the aisles type of girl?” 

“Is that a deal breaker?” you ask, attention captivated by a lavender ceramic pencil holder in the shape of a rainbow. 

“No, not at all,” he assures, taking you by surprise when he presses a kiss to your temple, “I’m a walking through the aisles type of guy.” 

“Was I looking a little too good while perusing the five dollar shelf?” you tease while you move onward into the store, stopping to thumb through a rack of jeans.

“Well that’s the thing,” he says with a tilt of his head, “You’re always lookin’ a little too good.” 

He hums when you roll your eyes, “Hmm. How’d I know that was coming?” 

“Why’re you so nice to me all the time, huh?” you fake argue, bored with looking at clothes and taking deliberate steps towards home goods to the bath section. Eddie hurries to keep up, basket clicking and clacking in his hand. 

“I guess I can be mean to you, but I feel like that would make me a shitty date,” he jokes back, “And an even worse Uber driver.” 

“So true, actually. Zero stars,” you nod, running your hand over a towel that matches the color of his shirt, “Y’know green’s a really good color for you? Makes your eyes pop.” 

“Oh…” he can feel himself turning red when you say that. So she’s been looking at my eyes? Is she always secretly sort of checking me out the way I’m always secretly sort of checking her out? Does she think I’m cute or something? Why am I trying to propose to her right now? Is it ‘cause we’re looking at towels? 

“Um, thank you. I’ll um, I’ll wear it more often,” he runs a hand over his face while you continue to look at towels, turning the corner to look at the fancier ones. You laugh at his jittery response, not so much at him, not teasing, but – this guy covered in tattoos, stomping in combat boots, definitely has a knife in his back pocket, chains dangling down the side of his pants, is blushing bright red just because you said he looks good in green. This guy? 

“You should,” you encourage, turning to see his reddened face, “What happened to not being nervous?” 

“That’s a rule for you,” he says, walking a few steps ahead of you. His eyes catch on a soap dispenser, it’s the same one he had in the master bathroom back with Chris, “I can be as nervous as I want.” 

“Ah, I see, rules for thee, not for me,” you nod slowly. 

“See! Now you’re getting it,” he says over his shoulder. He reaches his free hand back toward you, eyes meeting yours, tossing you a smile when you look at his hand and back at him, “Yeah, I want you to hold it.” 

When your fingers slide in to lace with his he realizes his hands are a little sweaty. They weren’t last time you saw him, with your hand cradled in between his on his knee at the bar. He was a couple drinks in then, not forced to face the action fully. Not aware enough to realize he was holding a pretty girl’s hand in public on a domestic date and all he can think about is railing you in the backseat of his Honda Civic and also making a mental note of all the color choices you like so when you eventually move in together he already knows what you — Jesus fucking Christ you have soft hands. You guide him through the rest of the bathroom section, stopping briefly to consider whether or not you need more hand towels for your apartment and then shaking it off. He let’s you take him around the corner to mattress covers, you talk about your Casper mattress and how you still aren’t sure if you really like it two years later. He hears himself respond in a fog but he’s caught up on how right it feels to be here with you, to be holding your hand, holding your Target basket for you, listening to you talk about whatever. 

You get to bedding and stop at the throws, Eddie’s fog lifts when you let go of his hand to take one of them off the shelf. A dark green knitted blanket replaces his hand, folded up neat and tidy in its wrap-around casing. 

“This is so perfect for my living room,” you murmur to yourself, “It’s so cute.” 

Eddie leans against the shelf while you let your senses absorb the knit: touch, sight, smell. You peer at the other colors, unhappy with the rest, balancing the blanket on your hip while you look back at the empty spot where it once sat. Your eyes roll again, shoulders slumping for real this time.

“Not seventy five dollars cute,” you grumble, putting the blanket back on the shelf. 

“Seventy five dollars?” he asks, aghast, brown eyes rounding in surprise, “What, did they shear the sheep here or something?” 

“That’s capitalism for ya,” you click your tongue, giving the blanket one last look with a little pout, “Oh well, I’m sure I can find a dupe or something at TJ Maxx.” 

“M’sorry, sweetheart,” he consoles, taking your hand back and giving it an apologetic squeeze. 

“Sweetheart…” you repeat back, “That’s cute.” 

“That’s cute? Okay,” he smiles down at the tile under his feet, teeth showing, “I’ll keep note of that.” 

You both continue your journey through bedding, crossing through the Hearth & Hand showcase where he listens to you gripe about how you swear it’s a scam. None of this shit should be this expensive. Like, I could get all this shit at H&M Home online for twenty dollars less. What, just cause they’re on TV? Frickin’ ridiculous. He still stands by thinking that you’re cute when you’re mad. He can’t let go of your hand. He doesn’t even care that you’re both so far from travel toiletries, that you likely forgot why you were even here. He just likes this, being in Target with you, holding your hand while you yell about something. 

“Oh, hold on, I gotta look at these,” you squeeze his hand before you let go again, walking ahead of him while Matchbox Twenty’s 3AM fades into Des’ree’s You Gotta Be. 

“Decorative wicker baskets?” he asks, stepping back to look at the wall of wicker baskets of all sizes in the back of the store. 

“I need two for under my dresser,” you say, reaching up to grab one and looking at the tag for the dimensions, “S’for my socks and stuff.” 

He tosses you a look and you look back at him, “Don’t ask.” 

You get lost in the task, two stepping with a little sway to your hips, small movements. You sing along to the song while you pull one basket down and put it back, and so on. You gotta be cool, you gotta be calm, you gotta stay together. You aren’t mocking him when you sing along but the lyrics feel like they are. You’re so into it, too. He guesses this is what you’re like when no one’s around to watch you. How unfortunate that you’re so kissable even when you think no one is around to see it. 

“Hey,” he says, putting the basket down, “What did I say about looking too good?” 

“What?” you turn around, eyes rounded, almost startled, “Am I taking too long?”

“No,” he says with a furrow of his brow, approaching you gently while he crosses into your personal space. His voice drops a little lower, lips lingering close to yours, “No baby, not at all. Just looking really cute over here.” 

You can’t help but feel girlish when he’s like this, giggling while heat floods your cheeks and chest. 

“C’mere,” he whispers, pressing you back with his body so you’re flush with the shelves against the wall. His nose brushes yours, fingers finding your chin to tilt you up toward him where his mouth can taste you and you can taste him. He starts slow, just a test, shrouded in the lower light of the back decorative basket aisle, lips parting slightly to see if you’ll match it. He puffs a small breath against the ridge of your upper lip and it’s enough to send you into a frenzy. His body presses close up against you, kiss gaining fervor, hands coming up to cup around your cheek and neck to guide you with him

“Wait, wait,” you gasp, breaking away, “We’re gonna get in trouble.” 

“You think I’m scared of getting in trouble?” he clicks his tongue before grinning at you. Looks like you don’t do trouble. His lips ghost over yours, skating softly over your cheek to get to your ear, “I’ve been gettin’ kicked out of Targets since 2007, sweetheart.” 

His teeth graze your ear lobe, your hands reaching to clutch the soft leather of his jacket, a small sigh puffs out of you. He’s not sure if it’s pushing it, but the aisle is empty, and whatever he’s doing, he’s pretty sure you like it – his lips drop from your earlobe to the edge of your jaw, settling on a slow, wet open mouth kiss on your neck before meeting your mouth again. 

“Ed,” you mumble quietly, “I can’t be turned on at Target.” 

“Yes you can,” he giggles, stealing another gentle kiss from you. 

“Uh…hey folks,” a timid voice calls from the end of the aisle. You both break away, embarrassment clearly taking you over while you cover your face in your hands. A younger guy in a red t-shirt and khaki slacks waves awkwardly when he has both of your attention. 

“Sorry to uh, to interrupt but, um – y’know, this is a family friendly store and we just – yeah, I’m sorry. You’re not in trouble or anything,” he offers, stumbling over his words. 

“Thanks man,” Eddie says genuinely, giving him a wave back, “Sorry about that, just uh, caught up in the moment I guess. Baskets really do it for her, y’know?” 

The guy nods, walking away when a small thwap of the back of your hand hits his chest. 

“You’re so fucking annoying,” you laugh, changing your voice to mock him, “Baskets really do it for her. Fuck all the way off.” 

Eddie laughs with you, picking up the Target basket and placing it in your hand, “Look, I gotta pee so bad. Do you think you can man the aisles yourself while I go and take care of that?” 

You nod, “Just text me when you’re done and I’ll tell you where I am, okay?” 

“Cool,” he nods back, leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek, “See you in a bit.” 

hey, where are you at? easter stuff, i got distracted  very godly of you

He bustles through the aisles, realizing now that you’re on the totally opposite side of the store than you were before. He spots you where all the candy is, your basket full of your toiletries.  “Easter candy?” he asks. 

“It’s the best holiday candy, easily,” you confess, “I know people will probably say Halloween since that’s the candy holiday, but dude, there’s something about Cadbury eggs.” 

“Yeah?” he reaches out and takes the basket out of your hand gently, you don’t protest when he does, “Isn’t it supposed to be from the UK? Don’t they have better chocolate by proxy?” 

“I think so,” you agree while Eddie strolls a little further down the aisle, “Have you ever had them?” 

“I’m sure I have,” he says, fingers tracing over a chocolate bunny in a box, “I guess I’m more of a Halloween guy.” 

“Boring,” you sing, holding two small bags of Cadbury eggs in your hands. Eddie holds the basket in front of him while you gear up to toss one in. 

“Kobe!” you shout, the candy leaving your fingers in a lay up toss, floating through the air only to fall at Eddie’s feet on the tile. 

“Too soon,” Eddie shakes his head solemnly, reaching down to grab the chocolate and put it in the red basket in his arm, “How’re you gonna call out a legend’s name and then miss?” 

“I feel like you moved it so that I’d miss,” you accuse playfully. 

“I kept it exactly where it was, I think you’re just not very good at basketball,” he says, making his way towards you. You put the other bag in with the rest of your stuff and look up at him through half lidded eyes. He matches your gaze while he looks at you. 

“You just don’t wanna see me be great,” you tease. 

“Oh, stop,” he tutts, “You’re very great.” 

Neither of you can help but kiss again. It feels natural to do it at this point. 

“You get everything you need to get?” he asks against your lips. You nod, a little ‘mhm’ squeaks out of your throat, “Good, cause they can’t yell at us for making out in the parking lot. So we should head out of here soon.” 

The remainder of the errands and lunch go by like a blur to him. Saturday meant busy restaurants so instead you opted for fast food in the parking lot, starting the drive home sharing Wendy’s waffle fries over the center console. 

Before you pull out of the lot, he flicks your music on again, opting to just leave it on shuffle because he feels like he learns you better that way. What’s going to come up next that’ll surprise him? What’s he gonna find out about you? 

‘Baby, I know you’re hurting, Right now you feel like you could never love again. Now all I ask, is for a chance, to prove, That I love you.’ 

Eddie barks out a laugh, takes a sip of his Sprite, and then laughs again, “Oh shit. I haven’t heard this song in years!”

“You know this song, too?” you ask, surprised again at his music repertoire. 

“You really don’t think I’m cultured, do you?” he jokes, “I have a deep affinity for the Backstreet Boys, though I will admit I was an NSYNC boy myself growing up.”

“Of course,” you murmur with an eye roll, “What’s your favorite NSYNC song?” 

“Ooh, let me see,” he thinks while he turns onto the highway, “Definitely Drive Myself Crazy. I’d always try to hit JC’s runs.”

“You knew their names too?” 

“I told you already, I grew up in a trailer park. I had the same babysitter from two to eleven,” he explains, “Mrs. Grandy watched me until her daughter Summer turned thirteen and then I’d go and pal around with her and her friends. I was like her little brother, I practically lived there.” 

“Were you always there?” you ask, “At your babysitter’s house?” 

“Yeah. My uh, my mom died when I was seven but she was always working and tryna stay out of the house when my dad came home so I was always at the sitters. He’s y’know – he’s in jail but he was in and out of it when I was a kid, too. Got arrested for beating on her a couple months before she died and my uncle moved up from North Carolina to take care of me. But he worked nights so – if I wasn’t at school I had to have someone watch me while he slept and then someone had to be at the trailer while I slept. It was way easier when I was in school – but anyway – wow – off topic there – yes, I spent a lot of time with my babysitter and her mom,” he finishes.  

“I’m sorry,” you offer, reaching over to give his knee a reassuring squeeze. 

“No, don’t be. It’s okay. I’m okay – I turned out pretty cool, I think,” he shrugs.

“You’re really cool,” you smile, Eddie smiles back. 

“What’s your favorite Backstreet Boys song?” he asks. 

“Hey Mr. DJ, easy,” you tell him, “It’s the most fucknasty song they’ve ever made and it still holds up. Like, I want it played at my wedding. I’m trying to make a child to that song.” 

Eddie loses it at fucknasty, head falling back on the headrest while his chest bounces, “The most fucknasty song? We’ll have to play that next.” 

“You won’t be disappointed,” you say, “AJ sings it and he was my favorite.” 

“Oh, baby, that does not surprise me at all,” he grins. Calling you baby sounds comfortable now, even after just talking for a week. He’s not sure how fast or slow these things are supposed to go, but your little smile every time he says it makes him wanna say it more. 

“I saw them in concert, when I was like, nine or ten or something,” Eddie says, “For their Millenium Tour – was when I Want It That Way was huge.” 

“You got tickets?” you ask, a teasing grin splitting your face. 

“Summer was a huge Backstreet Boys and NYSNC fan, like, posters all over her room. Had every magazine they were in that she could find, everything. So all we would do when she would watch me was listen to them and talk about them, so I liked them because she liked them and I thought she was cool,” he starts. 

“So anyway, she finds out on the radio that they’re giving away tickets to a show in Columbus – cause like, no one fucking comes to Indiana to play shows – and she calls in and wins! She literally went into shock. But we ended up going and she brought me instead of her friend because she was like ‘Mom, he’s family’. Which as an adult, makes me fucking melt y’know? But as a kid I was like ‘Damn you’re gonna drag me to Ohio to see a boy band? I wanna see Tool.’”

“Not Tool!” you laugh.  

“But it was cool cause we got to stay in a hotel for a night and all that other shit. It felt really special, her mom got us t-shirts which I’m sure cost her a fortune but – damn. I had a lot of fun.” 

“It sounds like you did.”

“The most crazy thing though – which I’ve never told anyone so, I hope you feel special – was when I saw them perform, I thought like, ‘Wow, I wanna do this when I grow up.’ So in a way, if it wasn’t for the Backstreet Boys, I would’ve never realized I wanted to be a rockstar,” he confesses, “And I mean, obviously I was really into rock, and metal, and folk-punk stuff ‘cause of Wayne, but seeing those guys on stage? Everyone screaming? I was like ‘Damn, I wanna be up there! I wanna be shredding up there!’” 

“I love that,” you reply, a warm smile spread across your face while you watch him relive the memory in his head. 

He shrugs, “It was a cool dream to have but, I don’t know. That ship has long sailed.” 

“What do you mean? Long sailed? You can still be a rockstar,” you argue, a fry crunching soft between your teeth. 

He shakes his head, slight defeat caressing his tone, “No I can’t. I’m too old now.” 

“Too old? Shut up,” you assert through a mouthful of waffle fry, “Metallica’s still out there playing. Iron Maiden is literally on tour right now. And they’re all like – in their sixties for fuck’s sake.” 

“Okay?” he huffs back, the red from the hazard lights of the car in front of you flashes against his face, “And? They all got famous when they were like, twenty or younger. I’m fucking…thirty-two.” 

“Exactly! You’re only thirty-two,” you exclaim while he rolls to a stop at a red light. Your hand reaches out to squeeze his arm, “You have so much time. You can literally be a rockstar whenever.” 

Eddie’s chest gets tight when you say that – it had been a while since he heard that type of encouragement. He’d missed the feeling of someone cheering him on from the bar while he was on stage, Chrissy’s praise when they’d get home. Wayne calling to tell him he saw a review of their set in the paper. Lately the shows felt sad to him, he felt lonely, even though he was always the happiest when he could make it on that stage. 

“You can’t be saying shit like that to me,” he says knowingly, maneuvering his arm so that he can take your hand in his. 

“Why not?” you ask, your voice holding a hint of sullenness that breaks his heart. He kisses your knuckles before resting his and your hand on your thigh, the light changing to green. 

“‘Cause you’re gonna make me fall in love with you.” Your eyes cast down at his hand on your thigh, your smile tight, stretching painfully across your cheeks, “Oh, okay. I’ll be meaner if that’s not what you’re going for.” 

“It’s definitely what I’m going for,” he murmurs, squeezing your hand softly. 

The mood in the car shifts to comfortable silence, I’ll Never Break Your Heart fading out into the opening croons of Leon Bridges’ Coming Home. You lean your head on the window, looking at the cars passing you on the highway, the light flecks of rain hitting the glass as the car keeps its speed. Eddie lets go of your hand, palm stretching over the mass of your thigh, running soothingly up and down on your leggings. His thumb rubs soft and slow over the outside of your quad, he just wants to touch you. It’s a comforting touch, no implications other than – I like being here with you right now. 

‘The world leaves a bitter taste in my mouth, girl. You're the only one that I want, Wanna be around. Wanna be around, girl, Wanna be around, girl, Ooh, wanna be around, girl...’

“I like this,” Eddie says, his voice soft, “Who is this?” 

“Leon Bridges,” you answer, “The whole album is so good. It honestly sounds even better on vinyl.” 

“I was just about to say, I bet it sounds great on vinyl,” he enthuses, “I like the old timey vibe.” 

“It’s cozy, right?” you ask. 

“Very cozy,” he nods, tossing a look over to you. Your eyes are heavy lidded, breath steady in your chest,  “You gettin’ sleepy?” 

“Kinda,” you yawn, “You’re not boring me or anything, I promise.” 

“That’s okay,” he offers you a soft pat on the thigh, returning back to the slow back and forth that was putting you to sleep, “We’ll be home soon-ish, just take a nap.” 

You frown, “You sure? Am I being lame?” 

“Nah, you’re not being lame,” he assures. Your eyes flutter closed, the warm cascade of his hand continues while they do. 

After a long stretch of highway, Eddie turns the car into your part of town, a sadness washing over him that he has to drop you off and then go home to his apartment for the remainder of this rainy evening. For a flicker of a moment he wants to be selfish and ask if you wanna just kick it at his house, but he knows you have stuff to do before this trip. Envy seeps into his sadness that your boss gets to spend so much time with you, gets to watch you laugh, gets to watch you solve problems, gets to watch you do anything all day. Is it healthy to feel like this so quickly? I don’t know her like that, he wonders, Is it that sort of thing where like, if you know you know? Or am I being kind of insane right now? 

“What’d I miss?” you ask, rising from your mini-nap in the car. You frown when you see your surroundings, so much closer to home than you hoped. 

“A few showtunes and Mariah’s Vision of Love,” he says, your sleepy voice tugging on his heart and lips, “I’m partial to My All but that’s cause I’m a professional sad boy.” 

“My All is on there, but it’s probably good I was out for Vision of Love – you didn’t have to hear me screlting it in the small confines of this car,” you laugh.

“Do you sing?” he asks. You shake your head no. 

“I did musicals in high school, as you can see by the showtunes,” you explain, “But I wouldn’t call myself much of a singer.” 

“I’m sure I’ll find out if that’s true sooner or later,” he offers. It’s part way through Good Charlotte’s Girls & Boys, volume low so he didn’t disturb you sleeping. 

“This song makes me laugh,” you say, he feels your hand find his, still sitting firm on your lap. You play with his rings, twirling them around his fingers, he swallows hard. 

“Like, so many songs that came out around this time, even a couple years after – now they just sound like women’s empowerment.” 

“Tell me more,” he says, turning onto your street, the ache creeping back up again. 

“Like, ‘Girls don’t like boys, girls like cars and money.’ Is that supposed to be a dig? Of course I like cars and money – I’m a person. ‘Paper or plastic, don’t matter, she’ll have it.’ Like it’s a bad thing! Sounds like she’s thriving, he’s paying for everything and she didn’t even ask him to, she’s just sitting there looking hot!” you continue, “Sounds like a dream to be honest!”

“Yeah!” he nods, mulling it over in his head, “Fuckin’ – good for her!” 

“I’m happy for her!” you laugh, he laughs with you. It’s nice to laugh so much with you, he likes that you’re sort of goofy in your own right. He pulls up to your house, pulling in to park in front of the walk way. Both of your laughs quiet down, you both look at the house through your window and the air in the car changes. 

“I don’t wanna go,” you frown, shoulders slumping, “I wanna keep hanging out.” 

“I know,” he says gently, “I wanna keep hanging out, too – but you got stuff you need to get ready for tomorrow.”

“I know,” you scrunch your nose, “So stupid.” 

“So stupid,” he agrees, “How dumb that you have to go to a really cool expo where the weather’s nice.” “Well when you put it like that,” you say with a tilt of your head and a smile. 

“Let me get your stuff out of the trunk,” he offers, getting out of the car into the smattering of rain. He pops the trunk and grabs your bags, coming over to your side to open your door for you. 

“Here,” he says, offering you your toiletries, Old Navy exchange (and a few other purchases), and a Sephora bag with definitely more than just your boss’s sunscreen in it. You thank him and lean in for a kiss but he grins, turning away from you to go back to the trunk, “Sorry, forgot a bag.” 

He reappears with the trunk closes, another Target bag in his hands that he passes to you. The weight reveals what it is before you look, but you peek to be sure, “Ed…”

“I didn’t really have to pee,” he confesses, “You just really liked it and you looked so sad when you put it back so, you know, I just wanted to do something nice.” 

“It’s really nice,” you smile, looking down at the green Casaluna blanket nestled in the bag, “I just don’t want to like…feel like I owe you something.” 

“No, no, no,” he hurriedly shakes his head, “Please don’t feel like that. This really was just like – it’s not like a power move or anything I’m not like that, I promise – I don’t want anything in return, seriously.” 

“Except maybe a picture when it’s all set up nice in your living room,” he grins. Your eye rolls make his heart flutter because so far, you always kiss him after you do it and this time is no exception. 

“I’ll see you when I come back,” you say, wincing as the rain starts to pick up. “You act like you’re going to war, sugar,” he teases, “Like you’re not gonna text me in five minutes.” 

“Ew, bye,” you scowl, giving him a peck before hustling up the walkway to find refuge on the covered porch. 

“Bye,” he calls out, bottom lip tucking between his teeth in the afterglow of another good date. He gets back in the car and waits for you to get in safely before driving away towards his own apartment. At a red light, his phone goes off, just five minutes since he’s pulled away. He opens his texts, a full belly laugh barking from his mouth.  it looks great in my living room. oh shit it’s only been five minutes. 😡 fuck you. 

By day two of your trip, Eddie was already homesick for you. Savoring every message you could send his way when you weren’t busy, but also trying his best not to text you back immediately so he didn’t seem needy. Or worse, desperate. He liked it the most when you’d send pictures: big pink quartz bathtubs, amethyst arm chairs, huge chunks of malachite that were the size of his hand. 

these would make cool dice for d&d, right? the coolest. you should buy that and then hand carve the dice for me. let me pull a grand out of my ass real quick so i can get to work on that. so needy.   oh, so you miss me?  of course i do :) i miss you, too :) 

“So when’re we gonna meet your mystery girlfriend?” Robin asks, swirling her rum and coke with her straw, “Or does she go to a different school in Canada that we wouldn’t know about?” 

Steve snickers with Robin, two mean girls who always mean girl together. It was a Tuesday, which meant Robin and Steve would meet up for Happy Hour at a bar near Nancy’s office for the paper and then bother everyone else to come meet them until everyone showed up. The three sat at the corner of the bar, Steve in the center in his business casual. Patagonia vest over his blue button up, hair perfectly windswept with his sunglasses tucked into his t-shirt collar. Picture perfect finance bro with his mean lesbian guard dog to bark at any woman who might hurt his feelings. Eddie was convinced that if Robin wasn’t gay, they would’ve gotten married the day that they met. 

“Well she’s not my girlfriend yet, for one,” Eddie starts, defensively, “And if you wanna know if she’s real, here’s her Instagram.” 

He passes his phone to Robin who swipes through your photos with a nod, a smile pulling across her face, “Not bad at all, Munson.” 

“Let me see,” Steve demands with a slight whine, plucking the phone from her hand. He scrolls, a touch of a salacious smirk spreading across his face, “Oh, smash. Immediately smash.” Steve passes Eddie’s phone back to him on the table, screen open to a risque picture of you on the beach, “You didn’t fuck?” 

“Not yet, Harrington,” Eddie sighs, “I’ll be sure to let you know the moment I slip it in, okay?” 

“I’m just saying,” Steve shrugs, “I would’ve fucked her already.” 

“Yeah, we know loverboy,” Robin teases. Eddie’s shoulders tense a little because if Steve wanted you, he’d definitely be able to take you. He’s hot and charismatic, he has more money than he knows what to do with, and at the end of the day – Steve loves women. All kinds of women. Eddie swore Steve would leave college with a taste for thin blondes that were in his frat’s sister sorority but every night it was someone new. And every night, Steve Harrington got what Steve Harrington wanted. 

“Tell her to follow me,” Steve winks. 

“It’s the first thing I did when I met her, actually – told her to follow you,” Eddie jokes back. 

what’re you doing? happy hour with the group. well right now just rob and steve but everyone else is on the way. fun! i bought a new bathing suit at a vendor because i have bad impulse control. also look at these cool rocks. oh, sick – what kind are they? the vendor said they’re ocean jasper do you want one? will you get a matching one with me? also linger is playing at the bar right now and it’s…making me think about you? stupid as hell. absolutely will get us matching ones. i love that song. who said you could be this cute? pretty sure i did. steve says hi by the way, he’s ‘linger’ing over my shoulder. lmao you’re so corny “Is she gonna send you a picture of her in the bathing suit or not?” he asks impatiently. “She’s still working, man,” Eddie flips his phone over so the screen can’t be seen, “And even if she does, I’m not gonna show it to you.” “Yeah, don’t be such a perv Steve,” Robin sasses, “Get me another rum and coke instead.” 

After an hour, the rest of the group has made it and Eddie’s had three beers in a short span of time. Not enough alcohol to feel drunk, but enough alcohol that he keeps getting lost in the thought of your thighs on that barstool last week. The little overflow of your tummy in your jeans, your hips, what you might look like out of those jeans. What sounds you might’ve made if he went to your house after Target and he peeled those leggings off you. You’re busy and he’s bummed out about it only because he selfishly wishes you were here at happy hour instead of looking at cool rocks. “You look so sad right now,” Tatianna says from across the table the group has gathered round, “You miss your girl?” 

Eddie pouts dramatically, nodding, “I do.” “Guys this is the one, I’ve never seen him like this before,” Tatianna grins, “He’s down bad.” 

Tati reaches next to her to hold hands with Gareth giving it a squeeze, “Hinge is the truth, I’m telling you.” 

“I mean, you sure? He thought Chris was the one and look how that turned out,” Mike says from the other end. Everyone sighs and groans, whines of ‘C’mon Wheeler,’ sound out of a few of them. 

“When you know, you know, kid,” Gareth offers softly, “And I think Ed knows.” 

“When’re we gonna meet this girl who likes your nerdy ass?” Erica giggles next to him. “Exactly what I was saying earlier,” Steve adds. 

“I don’t think you need to meet her, Steve,” Dustin laughs, “Let him have something, for God’s sake.”  “Well,” Nancy starts, “I mean, Steve’s party at Barcade is next week. Might be a good sort of low stakes way to ease her in.” 

“That’s actually such a good idea,” Tatianna agrees. 

“But I have the jazz concert for my kids that night,” Eddie sulks. 

“Yeah but that ends at like, eight thirty,” she argues, “You should tell her to come. We’ll take care of her before you show up.”  “I’ll take realgood care of her, Munson,” Steve grins.

“Steve.”

Eddie’s head is down on his forearms so he doesn’t know how many people started scolding Harrington over his head. This was overwhelming again – this part. Eddie thought maybe all the fussing over starting to date would be the worst but now it’s every day that they ask about you. At least twice a day in the group chat – Your girl coming to D&D? How was your date last weekend? Is she with you right now? Tell her we all said hi. Are you gonna bring her to Tati’s art show?

He doesn’t have all the answers yet and he doesn’t know where you’re at either. Do you want to meet his friends? Would you even like them?

Everyone yelling at Steve is satisfying, but it would be cooler if you were here to see it.  

The following night he was up late grading papers he should’ve graded a week ago but he was too caught up in his personal life to care. Conversation with you had dwindled quickly last night as he spent more time at the bar and ended up planning the next campaign. You hadn’t reached out at all today and he felt too proud to be the one to text you first, a twinge of resentment plucking at his heart strings in his chest. Hollow loneliness drumming at his ribcage. 

The papers were graded, neatly stacked and put away in his bag for tomorrow, red pen capped and put back on his desk. Eddie groans as he stands up to stretch, peeling off his t-shirt and slipping off his sweatpants, tossing them haphazardly in the corner of the room by his hamper. He kicks off his socks, finally comfortable in his boxers and silver chain, before trudging down to the bathroom to brush his teeth. He comes back to a quiet buzz on his phone, screen glowing to life while he swipes it off his dresser. 

hey, sorry i was so MIA today. things got really busy and hectic, surprise zoom meeting with bloomingdale’s and then a second surprise offer call with bergdorf goodman and then a few vendors wanted to get dinner and schmooze. it’s no excuse honestly but i should’ve messaged you to let you know i was busy. i’m sorry, handsome :( thought about you all day if that helps 

Eddie’s heart leaps in his chest, cheeks already hurting from the smile splitting his face open. You thought about him all day. You thought about him all day. The same way he thinks about you all day. He climbs into bed, snuggling in under the covers with the glow of his phone illuminating his grinning face in the dark. 

don’t apologize, sweetheart, i know you’re busy. glad that your hectic day is over at least, now you can relax! thought about you all day, too. one of my kids kept trying to play juicy by doja cat on the sax at jazz practice, so you came to mind immediately. LMAO. i’ll take that as a compliment. what’re you doing up so late?  grading papers, but i’m done now. i’d ask why you’re up so late but it’s only nine thirty there. what’re you up to? trying this bathing suit on, finally. do you wanna see it?

“Do I wanna see it?” he murmurs, exasperated with an eye roll to no one, “Of course I wanna see it.” 

yeah, show me :) 

He waits with bated breath, trying his best to swipe out of the text conversation and do something else instead of counting the minutes until you reply. His heart hammers in his chest while he waits for the familiar buzz in his hand. 

And there you are, dark red spandex hugging you tight, cinching you in all the right places. His eyes linger on the high cut of the bottom, the way some of the pudge of your hips pokes out at the seams and he bites his lip. ‘Fuck,’ he mumbles quietly. Your thighs on full display for him, thick and begging for him to grab, you’re so fucking grabbable he can’t even stand it. 

jfc you know what you’re doing  whaaaaat? what do you mean?  ‘what do you meaaaannn 🤪’ you know what i mean.  do you not like it?  i like it a little too much  you wanna see it from the back? 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he mutters into the darkness. He feels the blood rush to his pelvis like an army command, cock partially at attention while his hand palms delicately over his boxers. 

of course i do 

He gulps when the picture comes in, you posed like that on purpose. One ass cheek propped up on the bathroom counter, the other lifted and perky from your stance. The soft rolls of your back on display from how you’re turned to still have your pretty face in frame. He’d fucking wreck you. Lovingly, of course.

do you want me to hop on a flight or?? how much are tickets to az? i’m about to come thru.  you got enough blood in your brain to make that trip rn?  lmao you know i don’t 😏 sorry i’m all the way in a different state, i’d help take care of it. 

“Yeah?” he chokes out, palming turning to full slow strokes over the fabric, “You wanna take care of it for me?” 

yeah? you’d take care of it?  only if you asked nicely :) 

“Fuck,” he whispers, tossing his phone down to reach for his side table drawer to reach for the tiny bottle of lube he kept there. He tugs down his boxers hastily, squirting some of the liquid in his palm before picking up the phone again with his clean hand. 

i’d ask very nicely. i’d even say please.  what a good boy. :) 

“M’such a good boy,” he huffs, hand wrapping tightly around the base of his cock and dragging upwards, “I’ll be so good for you.” 

would you want me to use my hands or my mouth? 

“Oh my fucking God,” he groans, brain short circuiting at the thought of you on your knees while he stands over you. Eyes looking up at him with a hand tangled up in your hair, desperately trying to not thrust deep into your throat while you go to work on him. He bites his lip while he fucks his fist, palm and fingers gliding in time with his foreskin, teasing his tip. A fire lights in his belly, cooking up thoughts in his head on how he’d want you first. 

i like the idea of keeping your mouth full  oh you wanna shut me up? is that it?  i don’t think it takes much. 

His head leans back on the wall behind his bed, eyes closing while his hips roll up to meet the speed of his hand, slower now to stave it off. 

“Yeah, suck it just like that…” he hums out, “Please more.” His brows pinch while he looks back at the picture you sent, your glossed lips gleaming back at him. They’d look so good around his cock, your eyes would look so good filled up with tears when you tried to deep throat him.

“T-take all of it,” he stammers out, unsure of his own dirty talk to himself. Would he actually say that? 

Bzz. Bzz.

oh yeah cause you’re soooo big 🙄

“Psh,” he hisses out with a roll of the eyes, hand lifting off his cock to type back. He guesses when it comes to you, he would say that. Just so you’d stop being such a brat. 

you’re gonna feel so stupid when you see it  you sound very confident  because i am  is it big? 

He looks down at himself confidently, laying fat and dense up his stomach, kicking up at the thought of you seeing it for the first time. Chrissy always gawked at it, despite how many times she’d seen it, it was always like she was seeing it for the first time. The girls he’d pull into the bathroom at The Hideout and other bars would whine at the sight. Both him and them slurring together about how they can make it fit. 

its big, sweetheart. but i think you can take it.  i know i can take it.  so sure of yourself tonight, huh? bet you wouldn’t be so cocky if you were here.  so i could watch you jerk it in your bedroom? puhlease. 🙄 i can tell by how you’re talking that you really like the idea of that.  so you are jerking it in your bedroom?  the same way i know you have your fingers between your pretty thighs

He doesn’t know that, but it was worth the shot. His mind reels, thinking of you barely changing out of your swimsuit into nothing to lay back on your hotel bed to touch yourself to him talking to you. He grunts when his hand wraps around his length again, fisting himself with more intention, thinking about your hips writhing in time with his. He wishes he knew how you sounded when you felt good, how you’ll sound when he makes you feel good. And god does he wanna make you feel good. 

🙈 stop  yeah? i can stop.  don’t actually, i’m just embarrassed 😩 how come?  cause i do have my fingers between my thighs 

“Fuuuuuck me,” he groans into a whimper. He shudders a gasp while his hips buck up to meet his hands thrusts, imagining you on top of him, under him, below him, above him. Mouth, hands, pussy, anything of yours bobbing over his cock. Wiping the images clean and starting over with you splayed out on the hotel bed again, trying to keep quiet so your boss won’t hear you through the hotel’s thin walls. 

does it feel good, sweetheart?  it would feel better if you were doing it for me.  can i call you?

“Can I call you?” he reads out loud, in a whisper, “Can I…call you…” 

absolutely. 

Your face pops up on his phone within the minute, phone buzzing rhythmically in his hands. His heart rate jerks alive, stomach dropping like he’s on a roller coaster while it continues to ring. 

He accepts, swallowing thickly as he does. 

“Hey there,” he murmurs. 

“Hi,” your voice is shaky on the other end, he holds back a moan. 

“Hi,” he says back to you, squeezing himself softly at the base again. 

“Do you wanna hear something embarrassing?” you laugh, following up with a soft needy sigh. 

“Always,” he swoons out, low and warm. 

“Your voice is so hot to me,” you giggle, “I don’t think I could finish if I didn’t hear it.” 

“Ah, there you go again, thinking your compliments to me are embarrassing,” he smirks. You sigh again and he lets out a heady breath while he strokes himself, teetering towards a climax. 

“Sorry,” you smile, and he can hear it in your voice, “You having a hot voice isn’t embarrassing. Me getting off to it is embarrassing.” 

He pauses, hearing your shallow breaths pick up, waiting for the right time to strike. His thumb trails over his tip to smear the precum oozing out of it over the head — his eyes roll back as he thinks about your tongue there instead. 

“S’not embarrassing,” his eyelids lower, settling deeper into his pillows. He groans low in his chest before speaking again, “You all wet for me, sugar?” 

“Yeah,” you whine to him. 

“Wish I could be there to take care of you,” he huffs, “I’d make you feel so good.”  

“How?” you ask breathily. 

He smirks, biting his lower lip, letting out a low laugh, “I’d take my time with you. Sounds like you get real needy.” 

“I’m not needy,” you protest. 

“Not needy, but calls me from the other side of the country to cum to my voice?” he argues playfully, “Oh yeah, not needy at all, baby.” 

You whine again, a few huffs of breath sound in the receiver. 

“You like that?” he asks lowly, “When I’m a little mean to you?” 

“Yeah…” 

“Fuck…” he whispers back, blood rushing to the tip, twitching while he works his hand up his shaft.

“Wait – are you actually jacking it right now?” you ask with a laugh. 

“Yeah,” he sighs back, “Are you surprised?” 

“How long have you been doing it?” 

“Since you sent me that picture with your whole ass out,” he confesses with a giggle, it just makes sense to him to answer honestly. 

“Is that how you wanna fuck me?” your voice is laced with depth and sex, his hips buck up at the sound, “From the back?” 

“Maybe not at first,” he starts, imagining he’s in the hotel with you, eyes locking on yours while you touch yourself. Meeting your pleading eyes with a salacious grin while he pumps his cock, climbing on top of the mattress. Climbing on top of you. 

“I’d probably want you on your back so I could see your pretty face,” he offers, “Watch you take it.” 

You sigh into the receiver again and he groans quietly while pleasure starts taking him over. 

“But if I’m being honest…” he starts again, voice lightly teasing. Your breaths pick up, and if he thinks he’s hearing right, you’re very wet. Just because of him, the way he’s talking to you. He shudders before regaining his composure, voice dropping dangerously low. 

“I can’t wait to get my mouth on that pussy,” he slurs out, drunk on the idea. 

“Mmm, fuck,” you mewl out. Okay Munson, maybe you still know how to do this shit. “Oh, you like the sound of that, huh?” he asks, a light raise to his voice, “You like thinking about me between your legs?” 

“Yes,” you huff through gritted teeth. He feels his orgasm creeping up on him quick, your little whines hitting his ear and gliding down his chest to his pelvis. Every soft puff of your breath feels like he’s the one making it punch out of you. 

“I know you’d take it so good, too. You’d get so messy for me,” he groans again when his palm grazes over the underside of his tip, cock leaking cum unceremoniously, sending shockwaves through his system, “Just like you are right now, hm?  Waiting for me to come over ‘n’ fuck you stupid?” “Please,” you whine into a growl, “Please fuck me stupid.” 

“Oh baby, I will,” he moans while he feels his balls tighten, closer and closer to the edge, hearing you pant and beg like that. Just for him. He grunts, breath huffing from his nose like a bull while his orgasm takes him over, cum shooting onto his belly in thick ropes, “F-fuck till you can’t fuckin – mmmf – can’t fuckin’ think.” “Oh! Oh my god, fuck. Fuck!” you cry out into the receiver. He grins, satisfied at that reaction, both of you taking deep breaths into your mics while you both come down. 

“Did you cum for me, sugar?” he drawls. 

“Mhm,” you squeak out. His grin doesn’t fade, it turns dirty, filthy, “Good girl.” 

“Don’t say that.” He can hear your embarrassed smile in your voice, it makes him laugh. He’s normally not like that, that’s not something he thinks he’s ever said in bed – at least not sober. 

“I won’t say it, I’m sorry. You don’t like that?” he asks thoughtfully. 

“I like it a lot and you’re too far away,” you say softly. 

“Poor thing,” he offers. 

“I am a poor thing!” you exclaim. You quiet down a little, both just listening to each other breathe on the other end, “I’m excited to see you again, when I come back.” 

“I’m excited to see you, too,” he smiles while he speaks softly into the receiver, “But lucky for me, I have these pictures of you to hold me over until then.” 

“Visual learner?” you tease. “Physical, too,” he counters. 

“You really are trouble,” you laugh, “And um – I don’t want you to think that like, the only reason I wanna see you is just to have sex or anything. I just really like spending time with you.” 

“I don’t think that at all,” he assures, “I really, really like spending time with you. I’m – and this is gonna sound super lame – but I’m excited to keep on getting to know you.” 

“Lamest thing I’ve ever heard,” you laugh, “But also, same. We can be lame together.” “Oh – uh, by the way,” Eddie’s voice reverts back to normal while a reminder jolts his body awake, “The group really wants to meet you and I know it’s gonna be the day after you get back and you might want to rest, but Steve’s birthday party is Friday if you wanna come. Totally understand if you’re gonna be too tired.” “Oh no, I’d love that!” he can hear you shifting on the mattress, likely getting ready for bed, “Steve’s the one whose Instagram request I shouldn’t accept, right?” Eddie laughs, “Right.”

You both talk for a little longer before he tells you it’s getting late and you should get some rest since you had such a long day. He doesn’t want to hang up, but you’re both too old to be doing the ‘falling asleep on the phone’ thing. Plus, he had to be up for work in five hours. 

Eddie slides into the seat on his Honda Civic and sighs – he’s tired. He doesn’t want to go to Steve’s party where everyone is gonna be loud and drunk by the time he gets there. He hates playing catch up, but you’re gonna be there so he’s doing his best to hype himself up before he starts the car. He cracks the Monster Energy sitting in his center console and chugs it, heaving a deep breath before starting the car. Mayhem’s Freezing Moon blares through his speakers and he nods to himself, Good, good, good. It would be a hype enough song to get him excited on the way there. He gives himself a once over in the rearview mirror, looking the same as he did when he freshened up in the teacher’s bathroom after the Jazz Club performed during the Spring Concert. His slim fit black slacks still kept their crease, his wallet chains still dangled from his pocket. Eddie took your advice and started wearing more green, a hunter short sleeved linen blend button up laid open and loose over a clean and expensive white t-shirt. If he didn’t know any better, he would say he looked hot. His hair was coiffed and coiled – he made sure to get a trim before you came back just to touch up the shag. His tattoos were the showiest you’d ever seen them and deeply moisturized, his silver chain and small rings were recently cleaned. 

He wants you to lose your mind when you see him, but when he walks into the bar he knows he already lost. There you are, standing at the bar with Nancy, Robin, Steve, and Dustin while they laugh with you at some story you’re telling. You’re all legs in your little black skirt with a cute cropped ‘ARIZONA’ sweatshirt cinching you in right at the waist. Your little white sneakers were shining purple in the black light of the bar, you probably wear these everywhere. 

“Eddie!” Dustin calls out, giving a big wave to call him towards the party. You whip around, beaming while he makes his way over, meeting him part way with a drink in your hand. He can smell your perfume immediately and he’s surprised he hasn’t already fallen to his knees. “Started without me, huh?” he asks, nodding to the drink in your hand. “I tried to get Steve a drink but he said it was a better gift for him to buy me one…or two,” you tell him sheepishly. Eddie catches Steve’s eyes over your shoulder when he pulls you in to say hello and shakes his head. Steve smirks, blowing him a kiss before mouthing, ‘Her ass? Insane.’ putting his hands out to show off the size of it. Eddie flips him off while he lets you go. 

“Everyone’s been really nice though,” you smile, giving him a once over, “You look really good.” 

“Thank you,” he says in your ear, kissing your cheek, “You look too good. Don’t think I can let you stick around here too long.” 

“S’kinda hot when you’re like that,” you grin sloppily, biting your lip. The tequila’s blurring the filter in your head a little, he can tell you’re just saying what comes to mind, eyes a little glassy. 

“Like what?” “A lil’ possessive,” you shrug. He tucks a knuckle under your chin, lifting your gaze toward him for a moment.  “Okay,” he smiles, leaning in to kiss you much more passionately than you expected. Your mouth is cold against his, tongue sliding in to taste the tequila on yours. He snakes one arm around your waist so that you’re chest to chest, both of you laughing against each other’s lips while Tati and the group whoop and holler over your makeout. He breaks away, looking down at you, eyes sparkling. 

“I missed you,” he says confidently. 

“I missed you,” you smile, pulling him tight against you. This was what he was waiting for. An ounce of clinginess so that he didn’t feel so insane for wanting to be close to you all the time. He leads you back over to the bar, hand on your lower back while you put yourself back in your little group. 

“What’re you having tonight, big boy?” Ed asks Steve, clapping him on the back in a brotherly hug. 

“Surprise me – you doing shots?” he asks. Eddie nods, getting the bartender’s attention when she makes his way over. 

“Can I get four shots of Jameson and then two for my buddy over here?” he asks, pointing at Steve with his thumb. The bartender nods, lining up the shot glasses and starting the pour. “I don’t really like Jameson,” you scrunch your nose. 

“Well baby, they’re all for me, so don’t worry about it,” he grins playfully, white teeth shining, “I’ll get you something else when you finish that drink.” 

You nod lazily, pulled into conversation with Robin while Steve and Eddie start taking their shots. The whiskey feels good hitting his throat, burning just enough to reinvigorate him for the rest of the night. He clicks his tongue when he downs them all, the scent of Tatianna’s vanilla perfume overtakes him before her hands cover his eyes from behind. 

“Guess who it is,” she laughs. 

“Someone who used my Warm Vanilla Sugar hand lotion today,” he answers, his fingers running over hers while he peels her hands away. He turns to her to pull her into a hug and then hugging Gareth behind her, already with their drinks in hand. 

“Look, it went with the fragrance I was wearing today. You used my curl cream again so – you can’t even be mad,” she shrugs, beckoning him over with her hand, “Come sit with us really quick.” 

Eddie turns to get your attention but Tatianna stops him, “She’s a big girl, she’s been doing fine on her own without you here, so far. Let her make friends.” Eddie pouts and Gareth pats him on the back after passing Tati’s drink to her, guiding him over to their booth close by the end of the bar. Eddie sits in the middle of the bench, looking like a kid who just got in trouble and is about to get a stern talking to by his parents. “So…” Eddie starts. 

“I really like her, dude,” Gareth grins, “Came in and immediately knew who we were, introduced herself, offered to get us a round. All around seems very much your vibe.” 

“And you, mom?” he asks, eyes lifting up through his lashes to look at Tatianna who has a smug grin on her face. 

“All I’m saying is that you should always be listening to me when I tell you to do something,” she shrugs, “‘Cause what if you had deleted the app that night? Would’ve never met the love of your life right there.” 

“Love of my life? You think?” he asks, eyes widening. “I know. Her energy is exactly what I thought it was gonna be,” Tatianna explains, gold rings in her twists flashing back the neon reflecting on them, “And you’ve been down bad for the past few weeks so I knew there had to be something about her that was really good.” 

“So you like her?” Eddie grins. 

“We love her,” Tatianna nods, “Consider her adopted.” 

“Steve loves her too, it looks like,” Eddie huffs, looking back over at the bar to see Steve showing you something on his phone, a little too close for comfort. 

“He’s behaving himself, don’t worry,” Dustin says while he slides in next to Eddie, “We all gave him a warning before she got here. Plus, he’s got two girls on his radar right now that he’s trying to take home if he doesn’t get too drunk – but y’know, we’re banking on the getting too drunk part.” 

“Always banking on the getting too drunk part,” Gareth laughs. 

The night continues on, people coming and going, getting up to dance, getting new drinks. He watches you blend in seamlessly, swaying with Tatianna at the bar while you wait for a rum and coke for you and water for him. He still has to drive home after all. 

“What do you know about this song?” Tatianna laughs while Victoria Monet’s Coastin’ booms over the speakers. You both walk back over, two stepping in time until Gareth pulls Tatianna in tight to him, rocking back and forth with each other and stealing kisses. 

Eddie watches you approach him while you lipsync the words playfully, hips swaying in in time with the beat. 

‘Think of the waaaays, The ways I wanna give you this ass, Just how you liiiiike, Feel like a Thursday how I’m throwin’ it back.’ “The ways you wanna give me this ass, huh?” he smirks, eyes flitting over you while he takes the water yor offer him. You keep up with your sway, pressing up close to him – you look up with a fake unamused quirk of your brow and he knows you’re about to say something bitchy that’ll make him fall for you even harder. “I don’t think you could handle it,” you flirt. 

“You know something?” he starts, putting his water on the table of the booth, catching you before you can sit down, “I think I can handle you just fine.” You burn at his words, a shy grin pulling at your lips when he sits down at the edge of the bench next to Nancy and across from Steve and Robin. It’s fun to flirt with you like this, right on the precipice of something a little dirty. He wants you so bad and if he knows women as well as he thinks he does, he knows you want him so bad, too.  He pats his thigh, encouraging you to sit on his lap. You hesitate at first but he nods encouragingly, a silent Please, it’s okay. You settle in, the table high enough that both sets of your thighs fit under the table. He takes a breath before letting his hands settle on your skin, imagining what it might be like when he gets to put his hands on all of it. 

Everyone banking on Steve getting too drunk to take someone home was right, him and Robin were already in their codependent best friend phase of the night where they only want to hang out with each other, hands cupped tight on the table. You’re talking to Robin about a game that’s like Sims but 8-bit – 

“It’s called Unpacking and it’s so cute, you basically unpack a house or a room and you learn more about the person’s story by unpacking their boxes – sort of like Sims but with actual feelings that you don’t have to make up,” you enthuse. 

“Is it on Steam?” she asks, “I’ll literally buy it right now.” 

“We’re partying, Rob, don’t play a dumb game,” Steve whines. 

“She’s not gonna play it right now, Steve,” Nancy chides, “She’s gonna play it later. Don’t worry, we all know tonight is about you.” 

Lucas comes over to the table looking aggravated, Max grinning next to him in a smile that Eddie knows too well. Lucas lost a bet and has to pay up, Eddie wonders what they bet on this time. 

“Why does your Dragon’s Lair score have to be so fucking high? Can you literally let anyone have anything?” Lucas huffs. 

“Don’t be so sad, Sinclair – you can always try to beat Red’s score,” Eddie shrugs, smirking smugly at the pair. 

“She’s 250 points behind you, and you’re both like, seven thousand points ahead of everyone else,” he huffs. 

“What’d’you owe her this time?” he asks. 

“I can’t even tell you out loud,” he sighs. Max cackles, offering her hand and leading him back over to the Party at the bar, fingers laced with each other while they talk. Eddie adjusts under you, groin shifting under your ass by accident but he savors how delicious it feels to have you on top of him like this. 

“Are there any other games in there that you have a high score on?” you ask, breath hitching slightly while his hands coast teasingly over your bare skin under the table. Your posture straightens when his fingers glide up your inner thigh, brushing his fingertips past the hem of your skirt. You like that, he thinks, your body language tells him all he needs to know to keep going. 

“The Dracula pinball machine,” he replies confidently. 

“I’m gonna go beat it,” you grin up at him. 

“Oh yeah?” he asks, hand sliding off your thigh when you get up to head to the arcade room,  “You even know how to play?” 

“You can show me,” you shrug. He doesn’t really have to show you, pinball is pretty self explanatory, but he doesn’t want to give up a chance to have you alone. He leads you to the machine, pointing out where you want the ball to hit for the best chance at extra points. The music on the sound system is loud and the machine’s music matches it so he has to get close to your ear to explain. 

“Do you think I don’t really know how to play or do you just wanna get close to me?” you ask, turning your head to look at him while he chin hooks over your shoulder. “You caught me,” he blushes, hand resting on your hip while he fills the gap between your back and his chest, “I’m sure you’re gonna do just fine.” 

And you do, in fact, you’re really fucking good at pinball and he’s almost mad about it. “Where did you learn to do this?” he asks after you rack up nearly three fourths of his high score in one go, the ball just narrowly missing the lever before sinking down to be propelled again. 

“Summers on the boardwalk in New Hampshire,” you grin, “My uncle lives over there so we go visit him every year. Played one pinball machine every summer – my high score still stands, like, eleven years later.” “That’s so hot to me, oh my god,” he laughs while you get the next ball rolling onto the board. You lean forward, hips jutting out against him while you really get into it, concentrating hard. Eddie’s breath hitches when you slowly move your hips against him, so slow that he’s not sure if you’re doing it on purpose or not.  Rihanna’s Work starts over the speakers and  that’s when he knows it’s on purpose. Your movement’s pick up a little, lost in the game and in the beat. You’re a good dancer and that makes his mind wander to other things you might be good at. Your fingers work quick on either side of the machine, lights flashes against both of your faces while you keep trying to win and he keeps trying to not pull your skirt up in the middle of Barcade. 

While the song continues, he stops paying attention to you playing, so caught up in how your waist winds and ass bounces against him that he doesn’t realize you aren’t even playing any more. His hips grind slowly back against you, one hand on your lower back, the other gripping your hip to keep you in position. This isn’t new territory for him, pulled into clubs by Tati and Gare, Robin and Steve, everyone else, from the moment things opened back up again in Indiana. When you look back at him he short circuits at first, but he knows you’re surprised he can dance like this. Maybe you forgot, but he does teach Music Theory – rhythm is kind of his whole thing. Of course he has it.  

Your hips roll, making your ass run painstakingly slow and firm over his hardening cock. A groan gets stuck in his throat, reaching out to your shoulder to pull you up right again with your back against his chest. 

“You like bein’ a tease?” he asks, voice deep and daunting. 

“Just getting you back for what you did under the table,” you say matter-of-factly, turning around to face him with your butt leaning against the machine, “You’re not the only one here who knows how to be a slut.” “Also, I beat you,” you grin. 

“Looks like you did,” he says, eyes passing yours to look at the new high score glowing on the outdated screen. 

“Do I win a prize?” 

“M’sure I can think of something,” he murmurs, lips pressing against yours while both of your eyes flutter closed. He takes your hand, leading you to the dark corner close by, both of you hidden by the now defunct change machine to press you up against the wall. “What do you think you deserve?” he purrs before catching your mouth in his again. His kiss is a little sloppy, a little needy, it’s the four shots of Jameson. Not too drunk to drive, but buzzed enough that he doesn’t care about his kissing technique, he just wants to taste you. “Oh, it’s like that?” you giggle mischievously, “I don’t think we can do what I think I deserve in a public place.” 

“Hmm, okay, not into exhibitionism I guess,” he huffs a laugh while his kisses trail to your neck, knee slotting between your legs where you eagerly press up against him. He feels one of your hands fall into his hair, making his assault on the crook of your neck more intense when you give it a slight pull. “Kiss me,” you whine softly. “M’sorry, sorry,” he smirks, meeting your lips again, “You just smell really good, I like being in there.” “You’re a really good –” Kiss. “Mmm--kisser.” “Thanks, sugar, you’re –” Kiss. “Not so bad your –” Kiss. “Mmm shit – yourself.”  He can barely think like this, so close to you but not close enough. Hands on your waist and hips to guide you against part of his thigh while a little whine pulls out of you. He can’t hold off much longer, feeling his pants grow unbearably tight. 

“Let’s get out of here,” he mumbles against your jaw, a satisfied smile blooms on his face when you roll your hips against his knee again. 

“You don’t wanna hear everyone drunkenly sing Steve happy – oh, mmm – happy birthday?” you pant out while he presses kisses at the curve of your jaw back to your mouth. His hand entwines with the hair at the nape of your neck, giving you a soft tug to keep your head in place. 

“The only thing I wanna hear right now,” he purrs in your ear, “Is what you sound like when I’m making you cum.” 

The ride home is quick, barely saying goodbyes while he pulled you through the crowds building at the bar and paid the tab. Gareth shot him a wink as they left, tossing you both a wave but neither of you could think of anything else except each other. 

He dropped his keys twice trying to get in the door of his first floor apartment, “Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” you smile, “Just breathe. I’m still gonna be here.” 

The door opens and he takes a millisecond to rip your coat off and kick off his shoes, instructing you to kick off your sneakers or Tati would likely emerge from the walls and kill you both for walking into the house with your outside shoes on. His lips immediately attach to yours. There’s no time to waste for him, pulling you over to the couch and plopping down with an excited puff of breath. “C’mere baby,” he beckons you over with two fingers, grinning up at you while you climb over his lap to straddle him. His kiss is searing, hands exploring you with abandon, all the ways he’s been thinking about touching you were now fair play. No one here to see either of you, no one around to interrupt. You can feel how hard he is under his dress pants, the material leaves little to the imagination. The gentle curve of it, its thickness, the length, all pressing up against you with every mutual roll of your hips. 

You choke out a whimper when it hits just right up against your clothed slit. Eddie looks up at you mischievously, greedily sucking on your neck for a moment before catching your gaze a little.

“That’s all it takes? Just pushing my hips up like that?” he purrs, rolling them up again slowly, “Is that what you want?”

“Uh-huh,” you breathe. He bites at the skin on your chest, not hard enough to hurt. He grips and grabs you but not hard enough to bruise. He’s testing the waters, seeing what you like and how you like it. His hands travel down past your hips, gripping the fat of your ass.

“Fuck, baby,” he moans into your mouth, exploring you more, his palms flattening against your skirt while it rides up, the curve of your cheeks warm in his hands. 

“Finally got to grab it the way you wanted to?” you tease between breaths. 

“Mhmm,” he groans, “Now I just gotta smack it around.” 

You take his lower lip between your teeth, making his cock twitch when you let it go to click back against his gums. 

“Ooh, you wanna spank me?” you laugh into your next kiss. His hand reaches up to pull at your waist, pushing you tighter up against him. His fingers graze between your legs from behind while your head falls back in a breathy gasp. 

“Do you want me to spank you?” he asks, brows raised inquisitively.  

“Maybe not tonight,” you shrug with a smirk, hips winding over him in a way that makes him really feel you. He growls when you do it, hands guiding your hips to do it again, “Maybe only when I’ve been bad.” 

“Jus’lemme know,” he grumbles, pupils taking over the brown in his eyes, “So I can  — mmm, shit — teach ya a lesson.” 

“Next time,” you huff into his next kiss. He manhandles you so that your back is to the cushions and throw pillows, switching your positions so that he’s on top.

“Next time,” he nods, pulling your sweatshirt off and dropping it to the floor, “But since you’re so good, it only makes sense that you get a reward, right?” 

“I did beat you at pinball, so…” you grin. He grins back, kissing your neck hungrily, slotting his knee between your legs like he did at the bar. 

“You did beat me at pinball,” he nods, a soft growl brewing in his chest when he feels you start to grind against him. Insatiable, he thinks, Greedy girl. But he doesn’t know if he can say that to you yet. He doesn’t know, all the way, what you like. He feels his heart hammer in his chest at the fear of realizing it – you aren’t Chrissy. What if he was only good because Chrissy thought so? What if he wasn’t actually – 

“Oh!” you squeak out, hand reaching out to grip his bicep. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, pulling away from your neck to look at you, big brown eyes blown with nerves. 

“Y-yeah that’s just…where you’re kissing…that’s a spot for me,” you admit bashfully, unable to look at him. 

“Sweetheart,” he shakes his head with a knowing smirk, “Shouldn’t’ve told me that.” 

A kiss on the lips is his only consolation to you before he goes back to your neck, tongue trailing down to its last spot where he parks his teeth and lips. You like that. He hears you like it. And fucking God is it good to hear you like this, to hear you in person, moaning and whining in his ear just from kissing and sucking this spot on your neck. 

“Eddie…” you breathe, high pitched and desperate, hips still pressing against his knee for friction. He can’t help but go back to your lips, but before he does, he peeks to see the marks he left behind. 

Lips become neck, neck becomes chest, chest becomes stomach, stomach becomes hips, and before you know it he’s on his knees on the rug in front of you. Eddie’s eyes find yours when he’s kneeling between your legs, the center of your thighs looking him in the face. He places a kissing on the inside of your knee, gentle and soft. 

He opens his mouth to ask, but you nearly read his mind, tugging up the hem of your skirt over your thick thighs. He helps, pushing the fabric up over your hips and ass so he gets another chance to touch and feel you. Once he settles back down he takes a breath, smiling up at you while he readjusts your legs to open a little wider, mouth making contact with your skin soon after. His lips capture the fat of your inner thigh, traveling down in passionate kisses, like your skin is divinity that he’s found for the first time. 

“You’re so soft,” he whispers, lips ghosting over your underwear to reach the top of your other knee, planting a kiss there too. 

“Thank you,” you breathe out. He lets out a low, teasing giggle at the state of you, head lolling back on the couch while he kisses the inside of one thigh and runs his hand over the outside of the other. His kisses stop and he looks up at you from between your legs, big brown eyes begging you to let him in. A ringed finger teases over the gusset of your underwear, the way you bite your lip gives him the approval to keep going. His slides your panties off, run of the mill black cheeky cut cotton that he wished he could’ve stripped you down to. Just to see that ass swallowing them, to see the way they sat on the curves of your hips. 

“You nervous?” he asks with a smile while your legs close, your underwear placed on the floor next to your shirt.

“A little,” you giggle. 

“Don’t be nervous, baby,” he coos, hands cupping under your knees to spread your legs again, “Just gonna make you feel good.” 

He sighs when your legs open up for him, already wet and puffy, you’d been thinking about this all night. Eddie nips softly at your inner thigh again before he lets his lips linger over your folds. You squirm your hips closer to him, a whine leaking out of your mouth. 

“Okay, okay,” he laughs, “I won’t tease you, I’m sorry.” 

But he’s lying. Leaning in to get close, only to ghost a breath over your clit. Fingers sliding to your slick lips to separate them slightly for more access to you. He pauses, leaning back away from your pussy and looks up at you quizzically.

“Actually, should I put on Hey Mr. DJ to set the mood? Since it’s so fucknasty…” gesturing his thumb towards the sound system on the other side of the room. You let out a mix of a laugh and a groan while his kisses coast on your thighs again.

“You said you wouldn’t teaaaasssseeee-oh my God,” you moan out when his mouth meets your clit without warning, soft, slow sucks and licks. 

“You like that, sugar?” he asks, voice dropping down to a bassy gravel. 

You nod feverishly, “Don’t stop, please don’t stop.” 

“Mmm, don’t stop?” he asks, tongue gliding from your entrance to your clit. 

“Please,” you gasp, hand reaching out to run through his hair, bangs pushing back to reveal the soft lines of his forehead. 

“Well you’re asking so nice, seems a little mean to keep you waiting,” he coos, fingers replacing his mouth while he talks, “But I thought you liked it when I was a little mean.” 

“Don’t be mean, Ed,” you pout. 

“Okay, I won’t be mean,” he smiles, opening your legs a little wider. He’s confident about his skills here, Chris loved getting eaten out so he dedicated a lot of time to getting it right. It helped that he loved going down, watching his partner gasp and whine while he serves her on his knees. Feeling the tug on his hair when he’s doing it right, making her feel good. The press of her hand to push him closer to her when she’s getting close, giving it to her over and over again. 

“Oh fuck, Ed — oh my god, baby,” you mewl, hips grinding up against his mouth. He smirks into the next stripe of his tongue, latching onto your clit to suck softly while his fingers press against your entrance. His eyes gaze up at you, your own going glassy while you look down at him. 

“I like when you look at me like that,” he confesses quietly, mouth returning to its actions immediately. He keeps his eyes on you while his first finger pushes in, he groans at the feeling — snug, warm, wet. He drags out slowly, a high pitched moan escaping you when he pushes back in with little resistance. His head moves with his mouth, tongue laving over your clit, lips pursing over it when he feels your pulse over his finger. 

“You’re so good — fuck �� you’re so good at this,” you sigh. The praise runs down his chest and along his spine, he moans gratefully into his next kiss against you. He stripes his tongue again, using his other hand to keep your lips spread for more access. Your thighs twitch while he goes back to soft deliberate sucking, alternating between that and gentle fluttering flicks from the tip of his tongue. 

“That’s good for you?” he mumbles. 

“You’re so good for me,” you whisper back, gripping his hair hard when he pushes his second finger in, “Just…unhm, just like that.” 

He keeps a steady pace with his fingers, evidence of his skill coating them while he does. He wants to drag this out a while, take his time with you like he said he would. He breaks his mouth away for a moment to really look at you, just in your bra and skirt. His heart skips a beat, breath caught in his throat. You’re so beautiful, he thinks. Too afraid to say it outloud. What if you don’t like that while you have sex? You said you like when he was a little mean, does that mean he should be mean all the time? 

“Earth to Ed…” he hears you say, your hand waving in his face. He looks back up at you, startled, “You okay? You stopped and sort of just…stared for a second.” 

“Oh my god, I’m sorry,” he laughs to himself, taking his fingers away to massage the inside of your thighs with both hands, “Just got caught up staring at you.” 

“Ew,” you giggle with a smile, “You think I’m pretty or somethin’?” 

Eddie leans up between your legs on the couch where you come down to meet him, noses inches apart, “Well I don’t wanna be too forward…” 

“You’re literally eating me out, you can’t get any more forward,” you both laugh at the ridiculousness of it. Of both being shaky and shy even this far into the game. 

“Like I was saying — I don’t wanna be too forward, but I think you’re honestly so beautiful,” he blushes bashfully, looking down so all you can see are his full lashes, “And I didn’t wanna be corny and say it while I’m like, neck deep in your pussy.”

“That’s very sweet, baby.” You run your hand through his hair, pushing back one side when he looks up at you again. Baby. He likes when you call him that. He likes when you call him baby. He’s excited for you to call him other names like pretty boy, and babe, and honey. He wants to hear ‘em all. He wants you to spend the night so he can make you breakfast in the morning — for like…ever. You kiss him and he shudders, cock jumping in his slacks for a hint of attention — but he has a job to finish. 

“You’re very sweet,” he says, nuzzling your nose before kissing your cheek, then your jawline, your neck, your chest, down and further down until he’s between your legs again — he doesn’t tease this time. He licks at your entrance, replacing his fingers with his tongue to lap up what you have for him. Your thighs tremble he trails back up, swirling his tongue over your clit when his fingers snugly sink back inside you. 

“Eddie…” 

“You gonna cum for me?” he asks, voice smokey and deep. He lets his fingers search inside you for your g-spot, grinning when he finds it. Your moan is loud when he massages it, hips pushing down into the couch cushions, head thrown back while you grind against him. 

“M’so close,” you huff, “That feels so good, please don’t stop. Don’tstopdon’tstop.” 

He grunts, feeling your thighs jump while he keeps up his pace. His tongue gets sloppy with it, wet and filthy, pooling spit out of his mouth in droves to mix with your slick. He fills you with a third finger, legs parting further again while you huff into the stretch. 

“Ooh, you can really take it, baby,” he encourages, “Look at you takin’ all these fingers.” He glides the flat of his tongue over you once before leaning back to watch you. The pads of his fingers press in slow circles against your g-spot again, smirking when your eyes roll back. 

“M’gonna cum…oh shit  — oh fuck Ed I’m g.. — ohfuck — fuckfuckfuck — mmm-ah!” Your hips jump, lifting off the couch, writhing to pull away while you feel your orgasm rush rapidly to its peak. 

“Thaaaat’s it,” he smiles, mouth returning home to its place latched over you. He holds your hips down with his free hand, eyes fluttering closed while he continues. A slight flit of his tongue right as he pumps his fingers in puts stars in your eyes, thighs snapping closed on either side of his head — exactly what he wanted.

“Ohmygodohmygodohmygod,” you chant with strained, shaking vocal chords, tears pricking your eyes. Eddie groans when he feels your walls clench down hard over his fingers, flooding over him down his hand. You hiss while he keeps going, fingers easing out of you but tongue licking up as much as he can while you come down in shivers. 

“You okay?” he asks, when your thighs release him. You reach for his hand, still covered in your juices and pull it toward you — but he knows your game. He knows you’re gonna lick it off and give him those eyes — so he pulls his wrist away, “Oh, no baby.”  

Eddie delicately puts his fingers in his mouth, eyes on yours with a glint of satisfaction, and gently sucks them clean instead. 

“I don’t like to waste it, sugar,” he croons, “I can make you something if you’re hungry.” 

His sexy act breaks when you roll your eyes at him, clearly flustered by his antics in your post orgasm glow. He snickers when he stands up, leaning down to peck you with your arousal still smeared on his mouth and chin. 

“Don’t laugh at me,” you pout. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he pouts back. A peck turns to a kiss, a kiss to something passionate. 

“Why don’t I go get cleaned up,” he starts, before catching you in another kiss.

“You should pee since that’s the smart thing to do before and after,” he presses a kiss to your neck.

“And then I’ll take you to bed,” he murmurs huskily, “How’s that?” 

“That’s really nice,” you rasp back, turning so that you’re nose to nose, “But I am a little hungry now that you said that.” 

“You’re funny,” he smiles, another kiss, “I’ll get us a snack and then I’ll take you to bed, is that better?” 

“Much better.”  

Eddie passes you your panties and shirt, and points out where the bathroom is down the hall. While you traipse along, he opens the fridge, taking out the tiramisu he got as dessert with his takeout last night but didn’t get around to eating. He slices the generous cut in half, gently placing it on two tea plates and grabbing two forks. 

“Do you like tiramisu?” he asks when he hears your socked feet pad into the kitchen. 

“I do. My mom’s is the best actually,” you brag. He turns around to see you, your bright smile, your refreshed face. 

“Will you still eat it if it’s not your mom’s?” he asks, offering you the plate. 

“Yes, of course,” you nod, taking both plates out of his hands and placing them on the table, “But first I gotta –” 

Eddie’s taken aback by the kiss, but you don’t notice. He’s swift at the pick up, matching your pace expertly and hoisting you up onto the counter with surprising ease. He grunts when you pull him forward between your legs by the belt loops because he knows you’re trying to fuck just as much as he is. 

“Baby…” he starts, regretfully breaking away, “Are you hungry or not?” 

You don’t answer at first, you just look at him and kiss him again. When you pull away, your gaze lingers. Fear coasts icily over his chest when you almost look forlorn. 

“Shit…” you whisper, shoulders drooping. 

“Wh-what? What is it?” he asks, hands getting clammy where they rest on your thighs.

“I…” you take a deep breath, it shakes when you exhale, “I really fucking like you.” 

He smiles, but he knows why this is your response, why you look like this, why your shoulders sulk — because he’s also there, “Does that make you scared?” 

You nod, but instead of going in to kiss you again he pulls you close, smooching your cheek before leaning your head on his shoulder. 

“It’s okay that you’re scared,” he murmurs, “But if it’s any consolation…”

“I really fucking like you, too.” 

When you kiss again, he’s overwhelmed. 

“Fuck the tiramisu,” you breathe, “Let’s just —.” 

“Mhm,” he breathes back, hoisting you off the counter, balancing you on his hips, “I fucking need you.” 

Jingle. Click. Creak. 

“HONEY, WE’RE HOME!” calls the voice of a sloshed Steve Harrington, from the front door, “Put your clothes on, sluts.” 

But it’s not just Steve, it’s the whole party — the group filing into the living room while you hurriedly slide down Eddie’s form. Tatianna and Gareth follow in after everyone gets their shoes off, laughing and joking with Robin and Dustin while they stumble through the door. They halt when they catch Eddie’s expression from the other room, a stare so cold it could freeze them both. ‘I’m so sorry,’ Gareth mouths, realizing with deep regret what they’ve interrupted. Tatianna makes her way over, making a face of pure guilt when she makes it into the kitchen. 

“So here’s the thing, my phone died and Steve was using Gareth’s phone to change the music and I forgot to text you,” she explains to the both of you, “I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s seriously okay,” you laugh, “Please don’t feel bad. It’s you and Gareth’s apartment, too.” 

“Are you mad at me?” Tati pouts at Eddie, who could not stay mad at Tati for even a second. 

He puffs a dramatic sigh, crossing his arms, “No, no, I’m not mad at you. It’s okay.” 

“Okay,” she smiles, opening her arms for a hug which he obliges without question, “Gare’s sorry too, but unfortunately he’s busy babysitting Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dum with Nance.”  Eddie looks down at you when he lets go of Tatianna, reaching his hand out to rub your back, “She means Robin and Steve.” 

“I figured,” you smile. Tatianna makes her exit and you’re both alone in the kitchen again. 

“I’m sorry,” Eddie offers, using the leverage of his hand on your back to pull you in close to him. 

“What, why? There’s nothing to be sorry for,” you furrow your brow, forearms leaning up the length of his chest. The opening bass of Dua Lipa’s One Kiss starts to thump from the soundsystem in the living room into the kitchen, along with Steve’s passionate This is my favorite fucking song, holy shit. 

“Everything got ruined,” he frowns, “I’m like, kind of embarrassed.” 

“Don’t be embarrassed,” you urge, pulling him a little closer to give him a reassuring kiss, “There’s always next time. I’m not goin’ anywhere.” 

“No?” he asks, leaning his forehead against yours, “You’re stayin’ right here?” 

“Well, until I have to go to home,” you shrug. The music gets a little louder and Eddie throws his disappointment to the wind. There is always next time. For now, he has you here in his kitchen, lips on yours, hands on your cheeks, the steady thump of the beat of his heart. And of course, Steve drunk crying to Robin in the living room – You’re literally my best fucking friend. You’re my best fucking friend Rob, I love you so much. 

Eddie giggles against your mouth at the sound, an ache caught in his chest. He really fucking likes you. 

[silent-stories]

𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐎𝐌

Pairing: Eddie x F!Reader

Summary: Eddie wants to introduce you to his mom, so you go to the graveyard with him.

Warnings: angst, fluff, death of a parent

It was late evening and the sky was starting to darken when you sat down on the ground, in front of the stone with Mrs. Munson's name engraved on it.

"Hi mom, this is Y/N," Eddie said as he crossed his legs and stared at the faded photo of the smiling woman on the tombstone "my girlfriend."

He had been wanting to take you there for some time, he said that since he knew your family he wanted you to get to "know" his too, only if you wanted too, of course.

"I've talked about her so many times before, I do it every time I come here actually, but I've never brought her here before." He added pulling his hands out of his jacket pockets and playing nervously with the rings on his fingers.

He kept talking without ever meeting your gaze as if he was afraid of what he might read in your eyes.

"She's here because she's really important to me and I wanted to introduce her to you too. Uncle Wayne has already said that she likes her a lot, they're basically best friends, sometimes I think she loves him more than me." He said the last part with a slight laugh but from his expression he didn't look amused.

"You two have a lot in common, you know?" He asked before pausing as if he was really waiting for an answer.

In return you only heard the rustling of the leaves of the trees caused by the wind.

"She's as kind as you were. She always lets me copy her homework even though I should probably start doing it myself if I wanna graduate. Sometimes she brings home-cooked food for me and Wayne, she and her mom make really good chocolate cakes, you would have liked them a lot." He explained, his voice low.

"Sometimes we cook together like I used to do with you. But Y/N and I always end up making a mess or fighting with flour. But it's fun, so we keep doing it even if we have to clean the trailer from top to bottom afterwards." A sad smile appeared on Eddie's face, probably remembering his days spent with his mother when she was with him.

"And she's as funny as you, she can make me smile with a simple joke even though my day has been shit and I just want to sleep for three days straight." He added and your heart squeezed in your chest.

"She's caring. That's another thing you both have in common. Once I didn't go to school because I had a fever and she missed an important test to come and check if I was okay. Actually I wasn't very okay, she had to keep my hair back as I threw up. I told her she could go anyway but she stayed with me until Wayne was back, at night. She stayed there all those hours, making me rest my head on her stomach and running her hands through my hair just like you used to do." At this point you just wanted to cry. You never thought that all those simple gestures that were part of your relationship with Eddie could mean so much to him.

You reached out to him and grabbed his hand which had started to shake slightly and definitely not from the temperature. He fliched at first, then hold it as if his life depended on it.

"She's also a good listener, she never judges when I talk about my problems and always listens when I talk about things I'm interested in . She says she likes to hear me talk about what I like, Dungeons & Dragons, the band and music in general, books. Once I even started reading the Hobbit aloud to her, but she fell asleep after half an hour with her head on my chest. I didn't get mad, she was too pretty. And I could never be mad at her, she makes me happy." If he was talking about being happy, then why did his voice sound so broken?

"When I'm with her I feel good, mom. It doesn't matter if I'm at school, in the trailer or on a bench in the woods, when I'm with her I feel at home. And it feels good. It feels great." He added as a tear rolled down his cheek.

"She's one of the best people I know." He breathed as you reached up to him and wiped it away with your thumb, slowly caressing his cheek.

"You would have loved her, mom." He said finally, before wrapping an arm around your waist and pushing you against him, resting his head on your shoulder and sniffling.

"It's okay." You said rubbing your hand on the fabric of the denim jacket covering his back.

"I love you." He whispered.

"I love you too. And I'm so sorry I didn't get to know your mom. If she was even half as amazing as you are, then she really must have been great." You said leaving a kiss on his forehead.

"She was." He murmured as his arms still held you.

Your lips brushed his temple leaving a light kiss there too, then you turned towards the tombstone.

"Mrs. Munson, I promise I will take good care of your boy."

[jamdoughnutmagician]

Ultimate Fantasy (Eddie Munson x Reader 18+)

Ever since @raccoonboywrites said about Eddie getting fucked, I could not stop thinking about it. I had other stuff I was working on, but my brain would not rest until I churned out this Eddie pegging fic. So here it is! Enjoy this little bit of filth :)

Word Count:837

Masterlist // Eddie Munson Masterlist

Eddie braced himself on his elbows as he arched his back, raising his hips and presenting his ass up to you. The pale skin of his perfectly peachy cheeks tinted pink from where your hands had squeezed into the plump flesh as you worked him open on your fingers. 

Soft whimpers tumbled from his lips as you teased his hole, stretching him on one finger, then two, even three, even going as far to lean close enough to let your tongue drag across the puckered skin, gliding upwards until your tongue meets the seam of his swollen balls.

You had been talking about this for a few days after, Eddie had gotten a little too high one night, and let slip that this was something that was on his ‘ultimate fantasy’ list. Talking through everything that might be a concern or worry, setting a safe word, creating a safe space to explore this new side of your relationship with your boyfriend. 

Whilst this had been a suggestion that Eddie had brought to your attention, you can’t lie, the thought of having your boyfriend completely at the mercy of your control sent a chill of excitement down your spine.

And all of that brings you to where you are now. Pressed up behind Eddie, perched on your knees, with the material of the staps biting into the soft skin of your thighs. A generous amount of lube spread over his ass and the fake cock strapped to the harness. 

Your hand skims across the flat of his back, a gentle reminder of how much you love him.

“You ready, Eds?”

“I think so?”

With your hand wrapped around the base of the dildo, you slowly push your hips forward, guiding the length towards his hole. The head pops in and you still your movements for a moment to check in with him when you hear the little breathy gasp that he lets out.

“Are you okay?”

“Want you to keep going, please. I promise I can take it, I just wanna feel it.” 

Your hips keep slowly moving forward, sliding into him inch by inch until you’re fully seated deep inside him. The groan that rumbles in the back of his throat is enough to make your cunt throb with arousal. Not yet, this wasn’t about you, this was about Eddie.

“How’s that feel baby?” you coo.

““Feels like I can feel you all the way in my fuckin’ guts.” he shudders 

“I’ll take that as a good thing?” 

“Yeah, fuck, yeah definitely a good thing.” his low breathy laugh comes.

“I’m going to start moving now, okay baby?” you tell him, your voice as sweet as syrup.

“Please.” 

That’s all you need to hear from him before you’re drawing your hips back until just the tip remains, and thrusting forward. Fucking into him with gentle, controlled thrusts. Eddie’s soft whines turn into fully unabashed moans as your movements pick up, pounding into his tight hole with heavy thrusts.

His poor needy cock hangs heavy between his thighs, flushed with need and steadily dripping with pearlescent arousal.

Your hands grip his hips for more leverage as you continue to bury yourself in him. Squeezing the soft flesh under your fingertips in an almost bruising grip.

 The drag of your cock inside him was unlike anything Eddie could have ever anticipated, but now he’d had just a taste of the pleasure, he knew this was something that he would never be able to be without.

“Touch me please..” he whines, even surprising himself at the needy tone of his voice.

“But, I am touching you, baby” you tease, punctuating your point with a particularly pounding thrust.

“M-my cock..please..ah..it hurts..” he grits through his teeth. 

Good boy, remembering his manners. Your hand reaches around his slim hips, down to where his poor neglected cock hung hot and heavy between his thighs. Veins throbbing under your touch as you coast your fist up and down his length. With every thrust of your cock pushing into him, he was jerking forward into your fist, desperately in search of his release.

You could tell he was getting close, his skin was blooming scarlet, intricate inky tattoos sitting on flushed, sweat-drenched skin. He was arching into your every move. Despite not being able to see him from this angle, you were almost willing to bet that those pretty chocolate brown eyes were rolling back as he shuddered with need. 

It didn’t take very much more than a few well-angled thrusts, the head of your cock pounding against his prostate, and your slick fist working over him before he was coming with a deep growling moan spilling from his lips. Rope after rope of dripping white spurting from his tip, glazing your knuckles and the sheets below. 

As the pretty moans died on his tongue, you could only hope that this was the first of many times where Eddie would only too happily bend to your will in the name of pleasure.

@penguinsandpotterheads @paybacksawitch @aphrogeneias @mrsjellymunson @eddiesxangel @onegirlmanytales

[sanguineterrain]

about first place | eddie munson

hey guys remember when i wrote for stranger things? lol.

so this is another installment of my about a boy series. you don't have to read them to understand this fic, but idk, you might like those too! check them out if you feel like :)

Summary: Eddie asks you to change plans. You spiral.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x gn!reader

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings/tags: intrusive (violent and one self-harm) thoughts, self deprecating thoughts, reader spirals, eddie is hurtful (by accident) to the reader, but they communicate and it's resolved. reader feels like they are cast aside and there is trauma behind that feeling. reader is sensitive to rejection and has trouble communicating.

my fics aren't intended to be used as models for perfect communication or anything like that HOWEVER this fic is intended to be a story about communication and building trust and navigating a partner's trauma. if these topics are triggering to you, DO NOT READ.

if you enjoy this, please let me know through reblogs (and a comment, if you feel like!)

divider by firefly-graphics | i reblog all fics to @sanguinelibrary

Fridays are dinner nights with Eddie. Sometimes you do them on Saturday, but usually, every week, you two have dinner. It hasn’t gone on for very long; you’ve only just begun to feel comfortable eating in front of Eddie. But you like it. Sometimes Wayne joins you two. It feels like you have a home.

And after every dinner, you confirm with Eddie that he'll come over next week too. People like when you confirm plans in advance. You like when people confirm plans and keep their commitments. 

You like that Eddie comes over. You like that he wants to come over. 

The phone rings. You put down the wooden spoon and answer. 

"Hello?"

"Hey, sweet thing!" Eddie says. "Hey, so, I'm at Gareth's place right now, and our campaign is running long. It's so good, babe, I just created this new storyline and everybody loves it! Wheeler even said she might join next week. Am I a genius or what?"

You smile. "You're a genius, Eds. Nancy appreciates a good story; I’m not surprised you wowed her.”

"Aw, you flatter me, sweet thing. So, uh, I know I'm supposed to come over for dinner, but would it be okay if I took a rain check? Only because…"

You don't hear the rest of the sentence. The only thing that rings in your ears is rain check. Eddie's canceling. Eddie's sick of you. 

"...Is that alright?" he finally asks. "I'll take you out to dinner tomorrow." 

Your chest constricts. Eddie's expecting agreeability. He's expecting your acquiescence to the fact that he's sick of you. 

"Sure," you say tightly. 

There's a pause. Then, "So, I’ll swing by tomorrow?"

"No." You haven't prepared to interact with people tomorrow, you prepared for today. And tonight was planned a week in advance, but Eddie wants to change plans. Eddie cares more about Hellfire than spending time with you. 

Eddie is just like the rest of them.

"How ‘bout Monday? Or later next week? I wanna spend time with you, sweet thing."

Your throat feels tight. You need to end the conversation now or your guts will unspool all over the floor and Eddie will hear you try to stuff them back into your stomach. 

"It's fine. We don't need to reschedule. Bye."

You hang up. Immediately, your stomach hurts. Why should you feel guilty? Eddie abandoned plans that you made a week ago for his other friends. Eddie doesn't care about you. That's always how it goes. People hurt you and they don't care, and then you're the one who feels guilty for hanging up on them. 

Thoughts of Eddie crashing his van or Eddie getting struck by lightning flash unbidden into your mind and your stomach ache gets worse. What the fuck is wrong with you? Why would you think those things? You don't want that to happen to Eddie. You love Eddie, even though you were bound to eat too much love and get a stomach ache. 

You feel like doing something that would make your mother mad at you. You feel like digging your nails into the bathroom tile grout and scraping until you see the sun. You feel like carving scars into the kitchen table. 

Goddammit, you need to stop the bad thoughts. Think good thoughts. Think thoughts normal people have. Pretend you're normal. Pretend you're loved. 

You look at the pot of boiling water. Would Eddie come over if you stuck your hand in?

No, God, what's wrong with you? You fucking psycho. This is why no one keeps their plans with you! Eddie's job isn't to take care of you, to hold your hand and pet your hair and tell you he's happy to be here with you. 

You're wrong, you were born wrong, and that's your problem, not his. That's why he's gone. That's why everybody leaves. 

Knock knock. 

You look at the door, spooked. Did someone hear your thoughts? Are they finally here to take you away? 

"Sweet thing, you there? Can I please come in?"

If you let Eddie in, you'll have to tell him it's okay, and your guts will be there for him to see because you haven't cleaned them up yet, and he'll know you've been crying over him even though he called first which is more than you've ever been given before, and your stomach ache will triple and and and—

"It's open," you say. 

Eddie comes in. Your face is impenetrable. Stone. No, concrete. No, obsidian. Your face is obsidian, and Eddie's got a plastic hammer. You'll win and you can scoop up your guts later. 

"Hey," Eddie says softly. "Hey, sweetheart."

You take a step back. This is a trick.

"Why aren't you with your friends?" you ask, crossing your arms.

Eddie winces. "I’m sorry, baby. That was a mistake. I realized that after we hung up. I shouldn't have tried to reschedule. You and I made plans, and they're important to me. I ended the game—we're gonna meet next week." 

"You can go. I don't care."

Eddie's mouth flattens. You've hurt his feelings, but he hurt yours first, but you don't want to hurt his at all, but but but—

"I'm sorry I hurt you," Eddie says. "I don't want to reschedule or ditch our plans. I wanna spend time with you, I do."

"I don't want you here," you say. "I want you to leave, Eddie. I don't forgive you."

Eddie's face crumples. But he nods. "Okay, baby. I-I'll leave if you want me to go. I respect your space. You don't have to forgive me right now." 

Oh no. Eddie came prepared. Eddie has a diamond-tipped drill. 

"I'm never first," you blurt.

Eddie tilts his head. "What do you mean?"

He's still gentle. He's still here. Even though you didn't forgive him. Even though you're mad at him. Even though you'll never be normal. He's listening anyway. 

"No one puts me first. You did, but then you didn't tonight, even though I made plans enough time in advance. A week is enough time. People are supposed to stick to plans when you ask them a week ahead. It's my fault when I don't give them enough time, and it makes sense when they don't want to spend time with me then, but this time it wasn't my fault. You're supposed to decide you don't like me before this point. It hurts less when you decide earlier." 

Your chest heaves. Eddie's stepping all over your guts. He tracks them across the carpet as he gets closer. You watch the bloody intestine footprints slop behind him. 

"But you said yes. But then you wanted out. I'm never��I'm never first."

Eddie's face splinters further. "Oh, sweetheart—"

You wipe your eyes, pulling the skin hard. 

"I do like you," he says, and your sob breaks. "I do. Nothing'll make me stop liking you. And I love you still. I didn't ask that because I don't like you. It-it doesn't matter why I asked, but avoiding you wasn't the reason. It was a thoughtless thing I did. I thought you wouldn't mind, but you do, and that's okay. That's valid. I want you to tell me that. I want you to say, "Eddie, you dummy, I love ya, but let's keep our plans," and I'll come home."

"You didn't want to," you say, and cry harder. 

"No, baby, it's not like that at all. I wanted to do both, I like the idea of both. I always enjoy spending time with you. I thought maybe since we do this regularly, you wouldn't mind something different too."

You're overreacting. You're scary. This is wrong. This isn't how norm—fucking fuck that word! 

"I'm sorry," you blubber, quivering in place. 

Your legs feel weak. You lean against the counter for support.

Eddie shakes his head. He's a foot away. 

"What're you apologizing for, baby? You don't have to apologize. I hurt you, not the other way around."

"I'm guilty," you say, crying into your hands. "I'm guilty too. I thought bad thoughts. I didn't mean to, but I did, and now you're here, but I want you to be here because you want to be, not because I… I…"

"Is it okay if I touch you?" 

You nod, and Eddie's arms slide around you. Every time he hugs you, you're certain you won't fit together. But you always do. 

"It's okay if you thought bad thoughts," Eddie says into your ear. You feel his voice vibrate through your chest. "You're not your thoughts. And it's okay if some of those thoughts were because you were hurting from what I said. I’m really sorry, sweet thing. I have angry thoughts too, sometimes. But that's all they are. Just thoughts. Just noise. They don't make you bad. You're good. So, so good."

You wrap your arms around Eddie's neck and hug hard. He squeezes you back just as tightly. The pressure feels good. 

"I w-want you to hang out with friends, but I want you to k-keep our plans first," you say, and then brace yourself. You take great, big, shuddering breaths. 

"That is a very reasonable ask, my love. I’ll do that from now on. And how 'bout if we want to change plans, we'll ask at least three days in advance? Is that fair?”

You nod against his shoulder. You stay like that, Eddie rubbing circles on your back. His curls tickle your wet cheek.

"Sorry I ruined it," you say. 

"No, no, you didn't ruin anything. I made a mistake and we're learning how to communicate better. We’re learning.”

"I was scary."

"I don't think so, baby." 

You're quiet for a moment. "I want you to stay and eat with me."

He squeezes your arm. "I would love nothing more, sweet thing." 

You take the colander out of the cabinet. Eddie pushes your guts back into your stomach. No one's ever done that for you.

Perhaps you are loved. No pretending necessary. 

[leasstories]

Let me take care of you

Eddie Munson x Gn reader

TW: Raynaud’s syndrome

WC ≈800

January 24th, 1987

You love winter but winter doesn’t love you. Or maybe your body doesn’t like winter. You have what we call Raynaud’s syndrome, which means during winter, your hands are sometimes swollen and either red or purple either white. Raynaud’s syndrome causes decreased blood flow in the fingers. Your hands are really cold despite the gloves you put on. The few steps you have to take to get to your car are a nightmare for your poor fingers. Eddie doesn’t know about your syndrome yet, you’ve only moved in together a month ago, before, you hid it from him. How are you supposed to explain to your boyfriend why your hands are so gross and swollen. You open your car door with some difficulty as your hands can’t really grip anything and climb o your driver seat. You close the car door and drive home, wondering how you will explain your disease to your boyfriend. You park in front of your shard trailer, stop the engine but make no move to get out of the car, you just stare at your gloves, imagining what your fingers might look like.

Eddie heard your car park in the driveway and wonders why you’re not here yet, so he decided to go out and check on you. He can see you, head low, still in your car. You, however, don’t notice him. You get startled by a knock at your window. You open your door and try to muster your best smile for your boyfriend. But Eddie sees something’s off, he knows you. He gently kisses yo on the lips. Eddie knows better than to ask yo what’s wrong. He helps you ut of your car.

“Wanna talk about whatever’s happening in that pretty little head of yours?” Eddie asks instead, so you can’t deny that something’s actually going on.

“‘S fine Eddie, ‘s nothing.” You answer while going toward your shared trailer.

“‘S not nothing if it bothers my amazing, beautiful partner. You know you can talk to me?..” Eddie asks, a bit disappointed.

“Let’s get inside” you say before taking a deep breath. “And I’l show yo what is bothering me.”

Eddie nods and lead you inside the trailer and closes the door, you take your gloves off and show Eddie the state your hands are in. Eddie gasps, which almost makes you cry until you hear him say.

“My poor baby… What happened?”

“I have a disease called Raynaud’s syndrome” you tell him before explaining it to him.

“Why haven’t you told me earlier?” Eddie asks.

“I was afraid of your reaction, my fingers are hideous like this and it hurts Eddie… it hurts and when I hurt I’m grumpy and…” Eddie cuts your rambling.

“Hey, hey, hey stop that. Tell me how I can help? What can I do for your poor lil hands ?“ Eddie asks, a bit loud as he hates the idea that you suffer.

“Usually warm but not hot, just warm water helps. Too hot and too cold worsen it. Also massaging the hands can help too” you answer, looking at your feet, ashamed.

Eddie goes to the sink and run warm water. “You don’t have to be ashamed Sweetheart, it’s not your fault you have this disease. I promise it’s nothing to be ashamed of.” Eddie tells you earnestly.

“I have freaky fingers” you say, sniffling.

“Then, I love your freaky fingers.” He tells you before kissing each one of your fingers.

Then he puts the bowl of warm water on the table and asks you to put your hands inside of it. You obey, and stay like this for a few minutes.

“I’m sorry about that…” you tell Eddie, embarrassed.

“Hey, I said none of this. It’s not your fault sweetheart. Just let me take care of you.” Eddie says before taking one of your hands out of the warm water and massaging it with his big warm hands, once he is done with one, he massages the other.

“Is it okay like this Sweetheart?” Eddie asks sweetly.

You nod, humming in delight. He keeps doing it for a few minutes, also kissing your fingers from time to time.

Once Eddie is done, he gently releases your hand.

“Wanna watch your comfort movie? Would it make you feel better?” He asks.

You nod eagerly and sit on the couch, Eddie covers the both of you with a blanket and start the movie, Eddie takes one of your hands in his during the entire movie, not complaining once that your fingers are cold or swollen, he just hold your hand, hoping his body warmth will alleviate the pain.

You spend the evening snuggled up next to one another and it makes the pain coming from your fingers more bearable. Eddie loves you, Raynaud’s syndrome or not and it feels good to be taken care of.

[stat1cstarz]

Rock with you PART 2 🎀

Not requested

Warnings: Smut,anal,p n v,cursing maybe

Genre:Fluff | Smut

Synopsis:Y/N finds out about Eddie’s performance,and her chance of getting backstage,-and takes advantage of the one in a lifetime deal…

——————-

I was walking home last night, it was about 10pm when I finished, I was walking through the cold,empty town until I saw a poster, it read “Ladies and gentlemen,stop by our record store and if you can buy our one of a kind “Rock with you” CD, you can get a free backstage pass to Eddie Munson’s concert, no sensible person would miss this deal”. I stepped inside the record store which was luckily still open, I searched the racks for the album, and found it, it was about 20 cents. I brought it up to the cashier, “Wow, another hm?” He asked, putting the money in the cashier “What do you mean?” I asked, taking the CD “A ton of horny teenage girls come in buying these, good luck getting it tho” he said, as I walked out “Creep” I whispered under my breath.

—————night of concert

It was the night of the concert, luckily I got the pass so I might be able to meet him. After I got ready to look my best for him, I got in my car and drove to the theater. I pulled up and saw a crowd of people filling it, I got my purse and followed them, seeing a large empty area and the stage, I was already in pain realizing that standing for hours in high heels wouldn’t be great, I found my spot near the front, and the lights quickly dimmed. One light above the stage turned on, and Eddie was there, with his electric guitar and a black satin suit and his curly hair straightened and slicked back with gel. The first song began and the crowd of other young girls started screaming, I just hope it’s quieter backstage.

3:00 AM

The concert finally stopped, I enjoyed it but my feet were sore, until over the intercom I heard “Will Y/N L/N please come to the backstage with your pass, someone wants to meet you, really badly..” he said tiredly, I found the ticket in my purse and found the door “So you’re the lucky ducky huh?“ the guard, checking the ticket to see if it was fraudulent, than unhooking the velvet rope. I walked in and saw Eddie doing a ridiculous electric air guitar performance, while his real one was getting tuned and his vanity was being set up. He heard my heels clicking the concrete floor, and he rushed over “Hey princess, I prayed that you would’ve have gotten that ticket, I have so much to show you” he said, trying to seem cool but was also sweating heavily,the beads smudging his perfect eyeliner “What do you wanna show me?” I asked “Well it can’t be here” he said, grabbing my hand and taking me to his room. He shut the door, and took me to his trophy case “Well it’s impressive, I don’t see why the door has to be locked”I said, hearing the click “Don’t mind it, I like..privacy with this kinda stuff, if I wanted to I would’ve brought the camera crew” he said “Well this is pretty normal, I doubt anyone would care” I said “Well what I’m about to do to you, that’s not normal” he said. I turned my head towards him, until he pushed it back to the trophy case, “Nope it’s a surprise” he said, unbuckling his pants and dropping them to his ankles,and taking his shirt and shoes off. He made quick work of my panties, and undergarments “I’ll leave the dress one, wouldn’t want my princess getting cold huh?” He slipped off my heels, I finally felt some relief, until he ripped a large hole in my tights where my wet holes were. “Beautiful” he said getting on his knees, licking from my folds to my ass. I shivered from the contact of his tongue, he stood up and got some lube and a condom “We won’t need the lube yet, but I hope you’re used to condoms” He pulled me by the hips so I was bent over and he quickly lined himself with my folds, shoving in and out slowly. He turned on his radio which was luckily near by. As he got deeper inside I began moaning louder, until he covered my mouth “Shut up” he said “Sorry” I whispered. After a while he finally pulled out “You’re not done yet” he said “And sense you were a bad and girl and didn’t keep quiet, you won’t get any lube” he said, before roughly shoving himself into my ass, I almost screamed but kept my mouth shut, while he violently thrusted into me, this was probably my punishment. I felt his rough fingers rubbing my clit, soon enough I felt my sticky cum drip down my legs “Let me do it, sense you were quiet” he said, getting on his knees and licking it off, before swallowing it. He took me to his bed and laid me down, before laying with me to

[fuctacles]

[wereshifter au masterpost]

“I thought Satanists sacrifice cats?”

“Get your hands off that dog, Munson!”

Before Eddie could fully process what was happening, the dog he’s befriended was off the grass, standing between him and the group of guys yelling at him.

“Come here, buddy, you’ll be safe with us.” One of the guys reached out his hand to the animal.

But the dog’s hair raised across its spine, almost doubling his already wolf-like size, and the snarl that rumbled out of him made Eddie flinch. It took a slow step towards the group, baring its fangs. The group stumbled back, tripping on each other.

“Shit!”

“It’s a fucking hellhound!”

“It’s possessed!”

They backed away, unwilling to let the dog out of their sight and too scared to run and risk getting chased. But the dog didn’t seem interested in pursuit, even when they reached the path and Eddie could hear them finally break into a run.

He held his breath, warily watching the huge dog before him turn around. Its fur was flat and pettable again, and it huffed angrily, nose touching his arm as if checking on him.

“Uh, thank you? I guess?” Eddie offered, feeling off after the weird encounter. The dog lay down next to him, looking up briefly in a request for more pets. Eddie obliged, burying his hand back in the soft fur. His animal friend looked forward, daring anyone else to come and disturb them. He chuckled at the thought.

“You wanna be my guard dog?”

It huffed, not looking back at him.

“Want me to call you a good boy?” he smiled knowingly even though he didn’t know anything about having a dog. “You did good, yes—such a brave dog. My little hero,” he offered praises and added another hand to scratch him fervently with each word. 

The dog looked back at him, eyes sparkly and happy. It flipped on its back, wagging its tail and presenting its belly. 

“You want a belly rub, huh?” Eddie asked, hands hovering. The dog barked once, tail wagging faster, making him laugh. “Right, you are a good boy. Here.” He lowered his hands and started scratching. The dog’s skin and short fur were so soft he wanted to bury his face in it, feel it warm against his cheek and listen to the heartbeat. He wished, not for the first time, the dog was his.

The sun started to set and Eddie knew it was time to part. But as he said his usual goodbye and dusted off his pants, the dog didn’t trot away as usual. Instead, it joined him by his side on the walk back to the trailer park.

“You wanna walk me home?” he asked, cocking his head.

The dog looked up at him briefly but otherwise seemed to be on high alert, looking around and eyeing passerbys. He paid no mind to other dogs and didn’t stray away from Eddie’s left leg. Eddie patted his head.

“You wanna protect me, huh? You really are a guard dog.”

In answer, the dog’s side pressed briefly against his thigh.

They walked the whole route together and while they got a few confused stares, nobody dared to bother them. Soon, the trailer park was in view and Eddie stopped.

“Well, thanks for-”

But the dog walked past him, past the trailer park gates and looked back at him expectantly.

“Huh. Okay.”

Eddie caught up and the dog led him all the way to his trailer’s door.

“Okay, now you really gotta go,” he said, looking down at the dog. He leaned in to pet it, unable to resist the urge. “You were a medal-worthy boy today, thank you for scaring off these guys.” He chuckled when the dog licked his hand. “But I can’t take you in, I’m sure somebody else is waiting for you at your home.” The dog huffed and Eddie straightened up, hiding his hands in his pockets. “Go home.”

With one last press of its head to his leg, the dog walked away. Eddie watched it go, but just before disappearing behind another trailer it turned around and sat down with a heavy finality of a dog that’s not moving anywhere. They stared at each other.

“You gonna wait for me to go in?” he asked, already fishing out his keys.

It might have been a trick of late evening light, but he could swear he saw the dog nod.

“See? I’m safe now,” he said after stepping through the threshold. The dog was still sitting in place. “Goodnight, buddy,” he waved, feeling only a little awkward reasoning with an animal. He closed the door.

When he looked through the window, the dog was gone.

Werewolf Steve but Eddie's the only one out of the loop. One day Dustin found him in the park petting dogs and Eddie unloaded on him his childhood dream of having a pet. Dustin immediatelly goes to Steve to dish the info, waggling his eyebrows the whole time.

A couple days later Eddie makes friends with a huge dog with fluffy brown fur who wanders the park without an owner and seems interested in the metalhead's attention exclusively.

[mrsjellymunson]

Editing to add: Chapter One is up!

⚠️🚨 NEW SERIES INCOMING 🚨⚠️

Soooooo I’ve been working on something new, and I wanted to get at least one chapter out before the sunny weather entirely leaves the northern hemisphere…

Pairing: Steddie x older!fem!reader

Series Summary: Moving to Hawkins after some major life changes was hard, but the company of your son’s friends starts to make things look a little brighter.

I will be making a taglist for this series, if you want in just gimme a shout! (🔞18+ only please - and I will check - much of it is utter filth 😝)

SNEAK PEEK FROM CHAPTER 1 😃👇

“We have this place to ourselves. There's no one else within shouting distance. Screaming distance, even…”

They’re both crowding your space, and you don’t notice that you’ve backed up against the large bed until your knees connect with it, and you sit back with a soft thud.

Trying to conceal how heavily you’re breathing, you continue,

“Look, boys, this has been super fun, flattering even. But, let’s get some clarity here. You’re not really… interested in me. I mean look at you. I’m twice your age. I’ve been on this earth for literally twice as long as you have.”

Steve’s gaze doesn’t stop wandering your form, and he looks… hungry.

He moves closer to you, close enough that you can see flashes of green in his hazel eyes when they flick up to your chest and face, and you can smell the intoxicating remnants of his shower gel and cologne combined with fresh sweat.

Eddie moves closer too. You hear the rustle of his shorts and the soft clunk of his unlaced combat boots against the the floor, and his scent mingles with Steve’s. Cigarettes, weed and a spicy undertone that makes you feel weak.

Steve leans in even closer as he says,

“That may be true. For each of us…”

Eddie’s deep umber eyes fix on yours as he says, voice dropping an octave and a lascivious half-smile on those, you have to admit, perfectly pink and poised lips,

“But what about the two of us… put together?”

Wanna know how they got here and what happens next?? Just ask to be on the list, baby! 😉

Tagging my usuals, I hope you like this when it arrives 🤞 @joejoequinnquinn @jamdoughnutmagician @guiltyasquinn @madaboutmunson @airen256 @sunshinepeachx @the-unforgivenn @skrzydlak @comeonatmebruh @jamiecb66 @80s-addict @abellmunsonmovie @definitionwanderlust @sheneedsrocknroll92 @munson-blurbs @wonderlanddreamer @daisy-munson @maedesculpaeusoubi @kurdtbean @mediocredreams @in2tswft, and also @rebelfell because I FINALLY DID IT and @somnambulic-thing because of those edits, and @veemoon @introvertedmouse just in case this might be in your sphere of interest 😉 (lemme know if you want in on any of my lists BTW 😘)

[munson-blurbs]

Hurt People

This is just me giving an accurate depiction of what would most likely happen if Eddie Munson was real and went to high school with me. I’m sad tonight.

Warnings: hurt/no comfort, angst, insults, bullying

WC: 718

—

You don’t know how you didn’t see it coming. Maybe it’s because he’s Eddie, the boy—young man, really—thrust into the fringes of society because of his affinity for metal music and fantasy games. Maybe it’s because you’d assumed outcasts, loners, losers, looked out for one another. Or maybe you were just delusional, rose-colored glasses shielding you from what you couldn’t, wouldn’t see.

You and Eddie don’t have any classes together, with you electing to take honors classes and him struggling with introductory courses. You’d never judged him for it, never thought less of him because of it; some people’s talents lay outside of academia. Rumor has it that he’s a decent guitar player, though your parents’ strict rules forbid you from checking out a gig. Truly, you don’t know much about him except that he’s on his third round of senior year and, in your opinion, is the cutest guy at Hawkins High.

The opportunity to befriend him presents itself in the unassuming form of Honor Society volunteer hours. Mrs. O’Donnell needs someone to tutor Eddie in chemistry so she can get him the hell out of her class, and you eagerly offer to be his teacher. Quiet afternoons together in the library might lead to secrets whispered, kisses shared…

The first tutoring session is…fine. Eddie’s completely disinterested in the material, which is to be expected. You keep drawing his attention back to the lab report he’s supposed to be writing, trying to maintain your composure as your patience wears thin.

When he’s barely accomplished anything at the end of the hour, you tell him to meet you back in the study room tomorrow after school.

“You need to hand this in on time,” you say softly but firmly. “Don’t wanna lose points for late work.”

He grumbles as he grabs his tin lunchbox and carelessly shoves the lab report into his backpack, not even saying goodbye.

The next day, you muster up the courage to approach his lunch table. You’ve got your old chemistry study guides clenched in your fists; the idea is to offer them to him so he doesn’t have to reference his own scribbled notes for his upcoming quiz. Just a casual, “hey, I figured you could use these.” Yeah, that could work.

You’re ten feet away when you hear his boisterous laugh. “Oh, and get this,” he’s saying to his friends, “she wants me to study again with her today! Like yesterday wasn’t bad enough.”

“Dude,” one of his buddies chuckles, sympathetically shaking his head and clapping his hand on Eddie’s shoulder, “it’s just your luck that the one girl crushing on you happens to be the ugliest girl in the school.”

Your blood runs cold, nerves buzzing in anticipation of Eddie’s response. Surely he’ll tell the guy that he’s gone too far, that poking fun at your appearance is uncalled for.

But Eddie just gives him the finger and replies, “tell me about it. And now I gotta sit there while she makes heart-eyes at me, unless I wanna face O’Donnell’s wrath. Again.”

Tell me about it. Tell me about it. Tell me about it.

There’s no defending you, no sense of irritation with his friend’s statement. It’s pure, unfiltered agreement.

You’re the ugliest girl in school, and even Eddie Munson thinks so.

Tears blur your vision as you make a beeline out of the cafeteria, dumping your papers in the nearest trash can. You’re sorry you wasted your precious time digging them up. Humiliation seeps into your skin. It doesn’t matter if no one else heard him, because you did. And the information isn’t novel to you—you’re not Chrissy Cunningham or Nancy Wheeler, not by a longshot. No, you’re embarrassed because you’d deluded yourself into thinking that Eddie could see you in a way that others didn’t, in a way that you simply couldn’t.

A large part of you hoped that Eddie would see your status as a fellow freak and applaud you for it, welcome you into his group, take you under his wing. That seems like a pipe dream now.

It’s like that old cliche: hurt people hurt people. Maybe if you were bravier—bitchier, even—you’d hurt him back. But for now, you’re too tired from dragging around the burden of your existence.

Hurt will have to wait another day.

—

[folklorebau]

love me in secret — eddie munson

summary: you love your best friend, but he only ever wants to love you back in private. one conversation changes everything for the both of you.

pairing: eddie munson x reader. fluff, two idiots in love.

a/n: my first eddie fic !!!! requests open <3

requests are open, check pinned for who i write for !!

♡ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ 🕊 ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ 🏹 ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ☕️ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ♡

tuesday night is reserved for movie night with eddie. “what do you wanna watch?” he asks, kneeling down so he can see all of his movie collection. you shrug, picking at the skin around your fingers until they bled.

“why don’t we ever go to the movies?” you ask, trying to sound genuinely, innocently curious but all that comes out is an accusation, and your tone isn’t lost on eddie who looks back over his shoulder, eyes wide, until he just shrugs, his focus going back to the box of tapes. “dunno.” he responds. “we could, if you wanted.” he offers, and you can hear the panic in his voice, the way he is getting uncomfortable at the idea of being in public with you, like that.

“do you want to?” you ask and he turns around again to meet your eyes which are looking at your bloody nail beds.

“are you okay?” he asks. “you seem kind of pissed off at me.” straight to the point, as always. everything has always been relatively easy with eddie, but loving him has to be the biggest struggle you have faced while knowing him. god knows if he feels the same, sometimes you think he might but he has never explicitly said it. he just lets his hands linger and his gaze linger and his kisses linger but school comes round and he is just eddie, your friend eddie.

it’s not lost on you that friends don’t kiss, so you guys must be more than, right? in the dim light of his bedroom you question everything again while he just stares at you. “yeah, i’m fine.” you respond. eddie cocks his head to the side and pushes the box of tapes out of his way, getting up so he can sit beside you on the bed.

“you sure?” he asks, an inked arm going around your shoulders while his other hand pulls your hand away, casually stopping any more damage you might cause to your fingers. “we can talk if u want.” he offers, smoothing his thumb over the back of your hand.

taking a leaf out of eddie’s book, you head straight for the point, which feels a lot like driving straight off a cliff. “we’re not really friends anymore, are we?” you ask and his head turns towards you, his hair stroking your cheeks as he does. the look of hurt and confusion evident on his face, worry laced in his brown eyes.

“of course we are, what are you talking about?” he asks nervously.

“just friends?” you ask and his confusion and panic dissipates, face settling into a smile, a rose tinted smile that makes your heart beat a little bit faster. making you feel hopeful, making you feel like stepping off the ledge didn’t have to be so bad after all.

“well, no.” he says. “i didn’t know whether you were ready to put a label on it.” he says. “honestly, i didn’t really think you actually liked me like that.” he admits.

“what?” you ask. “eddie, i don’t come here every tuesday and watch whatever horrible gory movie you decide to torture me with out of my own free will.” you laugh, turning in his arms so you can really look at him. “i come here for you!” you say, making him blush.

“you see me everyday!” he argues. “and i thought you liked movie night.” he says jokingly.

“i do! i do, honestly. but it’s not the movie, it’s just being able to be with you.” you pause and he senses the but that’s coming. “but, i want to be able to hold your hand outside of this room, have you kiss me, whenever we want to, i don’t wanna save it all for movie night and then pretend like it never even happened.” you admit.

“i assumed you wouldn’t want all that.” he says. “parading me around as your boyfriend, what would people think of you?” he says and it’s shocking to you how serious he is. he doesn’t even get sad at his own self-deprecation, he just genuinely believes that you would be embarrassed by him, and accepts it like it means nothing to you or to him.

“eddie.” you say and he looks deeper into your eyes. “i don’t care what people think of me.” you respond. “people are… people, well. they fucking suck.” you say, simply and eddie laughs faking shock at your language.

“yeah.” he agrees. “they really do fucking suck!” he laughs.

“but you don’t, so can i please parade eddie munson around as my boyfriend?” you ask him and he smirks.

“are you asking me out, y/n?” he asks, teasingly. “gotta say, kinda cheesy method for you.” he says. you pull your hands up to cover your face and he curls over into a laugh, enjoying the way you squirm. “okay, okay, okay.” he says prying your hands away from your face.

“yes, you can parade me around as your boyfriend.” he says. with his hands on your wrists, he leans in, pressing the softest kiss ever to your lips. he lets go of your wrists so you can touch his face and his hair and his neck and he can touch you back in the same ways.

[aristrocrat]

Upside Down Feelings

Chapter Two: The Weirdo on Maple Street

an episode-by-episode incorporation of the reader

summary: Dustin has all of the sudden started being secretive?? Y/N has a run in with the boy she lost her virginity to and gets a call from an old friend.

pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader (slow burn)

word count: 2525 (sorry it's short. new chapter will be up later tonight to make up for it)

tw: not editeddd what else is new, talk of v-cards

Go check out Chapter One if you haven't already ->

“Did you find anything last night?” You asked in a hushed tone Dustin before you took a bite of your cereal. His eyes widened as he coughed into the milk he was drinking, causing it to go everywhere. “Ew! What the fuck, dude?! That was disgusting..”

“Your face is disgusting!” He bit back without second thought.

“Oh? My face isn’t the one covered in spewed-out milk! But my cereal has your spit in it now. So thanks for that, asshole,” You huffed, grabbing your bowl angrily to take it to the sink.

“Y/N!” Your mother hissed as she entered the room. Of course that’s all she heard. “He is twelve year old! Watch-“

“Watch your language. I know!” You rolled your eyes. “I’m going to school.”

“Without your brother?! I think not!” She called. You ignored her before walking towards the front door. “Hey! You haven’t even finished your-“

The door slammed.

“-Breakfast..” She finished, looking over at Dustin.

“Teenagers, am I right?” He shook his head, making her laugh begrudgingly. She kissed the top of his head before going to fetch him another shirt.

———

“Hey, man! Watch where you’re-“ The all-too-familiar voice trailed off as soon as it’s owner’s eyes laid on you. Eddie Munson looked down at you and shot you one of his famous grins. “Oh, it’s you!”

“It’s me,” You smiled as you both bent down to grab the rogue books and papers. Your hands both reached for the same book, pausing for a moment before you both pulled away. Once you gathered your things, you both stood back up and smiled.

“Sorry about that,” He chuckled before shifting his weight and grabbing his left arm. “I haven’t seen you around for a while.”

“Yeah, Dustin’s been a bit preoccupied with the whole Will thing so he hasn’t asked me to watch any of your club’s campaigns,” You shrugged.

“Ah,” He nodded once, puckering his lips slightly as if to say ‘Of course. Why didn’t that occur to me before?’. “So how is he?”

“Honestly? I have no clue,” You shrugged. “He snuck out last night with his friends to go look for him in the woods. The bastard blackmailed me into covering for him. I let him borrow my pepper spray and gave him a few flashlights and pocket knives to..”

You trailed off, looking at Eddie’s amused smile. You blushed when you realized you were rambling.

“I don’t know why I’m telling you all of this,” You laughed, looking down at your feet for a moment to collect your pride.

“Oh, I don’t mind. I like hearing you ramble. It’s cute,” He smirked, making you laugh and roll your eyes. You noticed he had his backpack on and furrowed your brows.

“Where are you off to?”

“Outside,” He said simply.

“No shit,” You deadpanned. It was his turn to laugh.

“To my car, I mean,” He spoke as if that cleared up any curiosity you might have, but you didn’t miss the way his hand tightened around the strap of his bag.

“Ah. I hear it’s nice there at this time of year,” You nodded. He chuckled again, giving you a look of utter fascination. “Well, be careful. Wouldn’t wanna be caught anything you aren’t supposed to be doing.”

“Me?” His jaw dropped as he pressed his hand to his chest. “You offend me. I would never!”

“Get caught or do something you aren’t supposed to be doing?” You smiled. He shrugged.

“That’s for me to know and you to find out,” He smiled, twirling around but maintaining eyes contact. “Better go the class, Henderson. I’d hate to see you get caught skipping just to talk to little ol’ me.”

“See you later, weirdo,” You laughed, shaking your head as you turned around to walk off.

———

“I saw your little run in with Eddie,” Robin smirked as you closed your locker. You rolled your eyes playfully. She knew that you used to nurture a small crush on him back in the day. Even if Robin could ever get you to admit you had a type, she knew he would be the exception to it.

“You know it’s not like that,” You responded, zipping up your backpack. To say you had a crush on him is an overstatement. You were by no means in love with him, nor were you ever planning to be, but his way of being has always fascinated you.

You’d never exactly been his friend per se, but you always found a way to sneak out a deep talk every once and a while when you’d accompany Dustin and his friends to watch his club’s tournaments. You liked hearing his perspective on the world. You liked his music. You liked his kind soul. And most of all, you liked that he liked you in the same way.

The first time he ever tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, it felt more like a summer breeze, there but not really. The first time he’d ever touched you was when he gently guided you away from a puddle you were about to step in while he walked you out to your bike after a D&D game. The first time he kissed you, he barely touched his lips to yours, almost as if he were afraid to break you.

The last time he kissed you, it led to so much more. You weren’t expecting to lose your virginity to Eddie. You’d always assumed it’d be an act of romance- of love. It wasn’t. It was simply two teenagers who trusted each other to get it over with. The last thing you expected were the butterflies that had yet to leave your stomach at the thought of that night. You’d been avoiding him like the plague since it happened, not quite sure what to make of your odd feelings. You were both used to going a month without speaking though, so it really wasn’t anything out of the ordinary.

“Right,” She sighed as you walked toward the exit. “Just the guy who took your virginity. Your fuck buddy, if you will.”

“Can I call him a fuck buddy if I’ve only been with him once. That feels like a stretch,”

“Ha!” Robin smirked. “Stretch. It’s funny because-“

“I got it,” You laughed. “And I told you, it was just a casual thing. Just two hormonal teens that didn’t want their first time to be a bitter memory to look back on. It felt more like… like a business transaction.”

“Wow,” She spoke in a monotone. “That might be the most romantic story I’ve ever heard.”

“Fuck off.”

“Are you sure you aren’t just gay?” She asked casually, making you laugh. “Sounds like something a gay person would say.

“Why? Are you trying to make the same arrangement between us?” You teased. It was her turn to laugh and push you away. “Because I’m down.“

“Meh. You’re not my type,” She shrugged as you both unlocked your bikes. You chuckled as your hand routinely unlocked the lock before you, tossing it into a side pocket of your backpack. “And unlike some people, I’d like my first time to mean something. I wanna be in love.”

“Why?” You scrunched your nose as you both hopped on your respective bicycles but remained walking them towards the street. “You’d have to be reminded of your first heartbreak every single time you thought of your first time. Pass.”

She opened her mouth, ready to argue with your logic when Barb walked in front of the two of you. You both stopped and smiled.

“Barbara!” Robin grinned. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

“Please tell me you’re coming tonight,” She didn’t even bother to hide her desperation. You shook your head no and she threw her head back and groaned. “Why?”

“Why do you think?” You chuckled. “I’m not trying to party with the same people that make it their life’s purpose to remind me how insignificant I am our societal hierarchy. It’s just not my scene. And it’s not exactly yours either, so I could be asking you the same question. Why are you going? If it’s because you feel obligated to say yes to Nancy, then just tell her to fuck off.”

“Don’t flip this back around on me!” She playfully placed her hand on her hip and pointed at you with the other in the same way a mother would. Robin found this entertaining. “Come with me or else!”

“It seems as though the sweetest, most harmless girl at the school is trying to threaten you,” Robin laughed.

“Be afraid,” Barb narrowed her eyes, continuing with her act. “Be very afraid.”

“Cute. You almost got me there with the whole intimidation factor but the answer is still no,” You smiled. “Come hang out with us tonight instead!”

“Yeah! I have snacks in my bag if you want to share!”

“I would but Nancy would throw a fit,” Barb sighed, finally giving up on her persuasion. “Rain check?”

“I don’t miss that,” You shook your head at your long time friend. “Be safe. Don’t drink and drive. And don’t do anything we wouldn’t do.”

“So don’t do anything?” She raised a brow.

“You offend me,” Robin raised her hand to show her offense before hopping on her bike and rolling away. “Don’t expect me to share any snacks if you decide on coming over!”

“Call if you need anything,” You smiled before following after your best friend.

———

“My mom’s here,” Robin said as she peaked out the window and chaotically put on her shoes with what was left of her PB&J in her mouth. “Love ya, bye!”

“See ya,” You smiled. She opened the front door to reveal your little brother. She ruffled his hair before jogging out to her mom’s car. You narrowed your eyes skeptically at the boy. “You’re home late.”

“Campaign ran late. What can I say?” He shrugged, trying to walk past you to his room. You stepped in his way. “Y/N, can you not? I just had the most insane night of my life and I’m just trying to go to sleep.”

“Insane?” You questioned. He hesitantly nodded. “You’re hiding something, Dustin. I can see it in your eyes. Since when did you start keeping secrets from me? You know I won’t judge you, right?”

“My eyes? What- these things?” He chuckled nervously pointing at his eyes. “No! No, no, no. You must be getting confused. These are tired eyes. All these eyes are trying to tell you is that-“

“You’ve sure been spending a lot of time at Mike’s,” You ignored, pausing for a moment before noticing the faint blush on his cheeks. “Oh, my God. Is this about a girl?”

His eyes widened. “Nope. Not a girl. Can I go now?”

“Are you gay? Because you know I’d be totally cool with that if-“

“What?! No!” He squeaked before clearing his throat and laughing again. “Could you just fuck off? I want to go to sleep!”

“I know something’s up, little man,” You lowered yourself to his level, keeping your voice in a hushed tone. He gulped audibly. “And I’m gonna find out what it is. That is, unless you want to avoid the drama and just tell me..”

“I have nothing to tell you,” He stuck to his story.

“Have it your way,” You shrugged, stepping aside for him. “Goodnight.”

He glared at you for a moment before rolling his eyes and muttering all the way to his room, “You’re so fucking weird. Jesus, can a growing boy not get any privacy..”

You allowed yourself to giggle as soon as his door shut. Besides the natural curiosity that came from his behavior, you really couldn’t care less about what he was up to as long as he wasn’t in any sort of trouble. You looked around and realized you and Robin left a bit of a mess and got to cleaning up; putting up snacks, throwing away wrappers, reorganizing all of the notecards and paper you both used. You underestimated just how long it would take you.

The ringing phone caused you to jump before looking at the clock. It was late. It could only be one person.

“Hello?” You answered. The lines stayed silent for a moment but you could recognize that breathing from a mile away, considering you’d fallen asleep to it at countless sleepovers. “Nance?”

“I, uh..” She spoke softly, almost as if she was frightened.

“Is everything okay?” You stood up a little straighter, only relaxing when she let out a quiet laugh.

“I just lost my virginity to The Hair,” She confessed. You smiled. Though you didn’t approve, you thought it was sweet that she called to talk about it.

“Oh yeah?” You laughed. “How was it?”

“Painful,” She admitted before giggling. “Fun.”

“Where was Barb when that happened?” You leaned against the wall with a smile on your face. You both eased right into your old types of conversation for the next half hour before you both decided to call it a night. “Hey, Nance?”

“Hey, Y/N,” She responded, making you both laugh.

“Thanks for calling,” You sighed. “I’ve really missed you.”

“I’ve really, really missed you,” She spoke a little more seriously. “Look.. I know I can’t take back what I said to you a few weeks ago, and I know it’ll take us a while to go back to the way things were, but Y/N, I am.. so sorry. Truly. If I could go back in time and take back that whole night, I would. I just want my best friend back. I’d really appreciate the chance to try and redeem myself.”

“I’d like that,” You said after a moment. “Goodnight, Pants.”

She laughed at the old nickname you gave her in the second grade, recalling just how hard you both laughed when you thought your shared teacher called her Pants instead of Nance. The name stuck.

“Well, then if you’re Pants, then that must make me Shirt,” You shrugged, handing her half of your PB&J sandwich. “Because we go together so well!”

“No, no! That makes you Skirt!” Nancy giggled, handing you half of her ham and cheese sandwich. This was a daily ritual.

“Skirt? How does that make any sense?” You furrowed your brows.

“That way we’re the same type of clothing. I think it’s better this way since we’re so alike,” She spoke as if she made all the sense in the world. And at that moment, she did.

“You’re so silly,” You giggled, bumping your shoulder into hers. “I like it. Pants and Skirt. The same but not really!”

“The same but not really!” She tapped her sandwich to yours as if it were a toast being made with champagne. You leaned your head on her shoulder and smiled.

“You’re my favorite pair of Pants,” You admitted.

“You’re my favorite pair of Skirt.”

“That makes so sense.”

“That’s what makes it funny!” She said as you both erupted into a fit of giggles that made your tummies hurt.

“Goodnight, Skirt,” She smiled.

Chapter Three ->

————

A/N: hi everyone!! i’m so happy you liked the first chapter of my new series. i’d love it if you checked out my other work too :) please comment down below if you’d like to be part of the taglist! i’ll be posting a couple times a week if you wanna tune in!!

side note: fuck. okay so maybe y/n can make a small side quest before she dates steve bc I AM SIMPING FOR EDDIE NOW. oops. jkjk. probably. idk yet. fuck

@werewolfbanshee-love @reallysparklychaos @katsukiswrld @i-bitch-you-bitch @yashirawr @grfields @001andeddiearetodiefor @thatmarvelchick19 @fixtionlover @idkwhyimhere013 @b3rrysoda @hair-dye-or-nawh @tpwkhollandd @dawnyboy @rexorangecouny @kimmchijjajang @efvyqrs @lou-la-lou

[hellowhisperingstars]

Soft Kitty

Summary: You get high with Eddie and come to realize something with the help of some cats. Eddie finds you adorable.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader 

Words: 1220

Warnings: Smoking, fluff, high reader

It was a beautiful Sunday in Hawkins and you found yourself lazily lying on Eddie's bed reading his well loved edition of The Hobbit, while he sat on the edge of his mattress with his guitar settled on his lap. His fingers flying expertly up and down the strings playing a song you don’t know the name of. His humming made you look up from the old pages with a loving grin.

After a few more bars, Eddie looked up at you with a smile as he let the last cord play out. “How’s the book, Sweetheart?”

“It’s great,” You said with a grin, putting the old receipt from the gas station between the pages to save your place, dropping it on the bed next to you. “Bilbo just left on his adventure. Is this book going to make me cry?”

“It might.” He said with a laugh as he stood from the bed to put his guitar back on the wall in front of the mirror. Grabbing his black metal lunch box he pops the lid, digging through it a moment before pulling out a joint, waggling it between two fingers at you. “Wanna sit on the couch outside and smoke? I just got a new strain from Rick called Blue Goo. He says it's his best yet, and I wanted to try it before I start selling it."

“Won’t your neighbors be pissed at the smell?”

“Most of them buy from me so...” Eddie smirked, placing the joint between his lips and pulling the zippo from his pocket. Flicking the lighter to life he held it up to the end and took a breath getting the joint started before tossing the zippo onto his dresser and holding his ring covered hand out for you. The other pulled the joint from his lips letting out a small stream of smoke as he breathed out. “Come on babydoll.”

Getting up off the bed you took the hand he offered as he led you from his room to the side door leading out to the porch attached to the front of the house. Opening the door he let you out first before he joined you, closing the door with a small click. You move to the right of the door and check on the bowl of water and food you leave out for the stray cats by the old arm chair before making your way to sit on the floor in front of Eddie as he got comfortable on the couch. 

Eddie took another hit before he handed the joint down to you as you leaned against his jean clad legs. His hands raked through your hair as he breathed out. “The couch is more comfortable ya know.” 

“I like the floor,” You said with a shrug, making Eddie's oversized sweater you stole fall off one shoulder as you took your turn with the joint. Letting the smoke fill your lungs, your head already starting to feel a little fuzzy from the beginnings of the high. Leaning your head back against Eddie's knees you motioned for him to get closer so you could give him a kiss and breathe the smoke into his mouth. 

Chuckling at you, Eddie blew the smoke into the air, taking the joint from your fingers as he let his head fall back against the couch, his eyes closed with a sigh. "Not bad."

You nodded in agreement as you looked over the quiet trailer park. It was surprising for such a nice day that no one was out but it didn’t bother you in the slightest. Your head started to feel all light and floaty as the drugs took effect. Hearing a noise to your right you cracked a wide smile when two of the stray cats made an appearance to grab some food and water. "Hi babies!" 

One of the two, a calico you had named Pebbles, looked up at you both with a happy meow as she trotted over to rub herself on your bare legs, your pj shorts hidden under your sweater.

"Haven't seen them in a while." Eddie said, looking down at the cat you were petting. Smiling at the happy giggle you let out as the other cat, a little brown one you named Bam Bam, came over for some attention. Taking another pull from the joint, Eddie leaned forward his arms on his thighs. "Pebbles and Bam Bam. Where've you two been huh?"

Reaching up you take the joint from the boy behind you placing it between your lips as you take a breath using both hands to pet each cat equally. "On adventures." 

You giggled again as you both watched as the two cats wandered away from you over towards the food, getting bored of the attention quickly. They ate and drank their fill as you passed the joint between the two of you, still watching them as they played.

Pebbles and Bam Bam purred as they rubbed and nuzzled against each other clearly comfortable with the presence of the other and in your floaty headed state you couldn’t help but get a little sad. Their fur was so soft. You would never know what it felt like to be a soft cat rubbing up against another soft cat. Taking your last hit you passed the joint up and back to Eddie for him to kill it. Pouting, your lip started to wobble as you sniffed, quiet tears catching on your lashes.

Eddie looked down at you quickly when he heard your sniffle, concern filled his voice. "Baby, are you okay? Did you burn yourself?"

"No," You mumbled with a shake of your head letting the smoke leave your lungs in a slow stream.

Blinking at you, Eddie killed the joint, snuffing it out on the ashtray on the couch's arm. Leaning forward he ran his hands over your hair using it to pull your head back gently against his knees so he could look down at you. "What happened sweetheart?"

"You're going to think it's stupid." You said in a watery voice. "You'll laugh at me."

"I promise I won't." 

"I'm sad cause they are so soft and we'll never know what it feels like to be two soft kitties rubbing against each other." You cried, little rivers of eyeliner and mascara starting to fall down the sides of your face.

Eddie bit his lip trying to hide the amused laugh that wants to bust out of him. Both of you were far too high, and he couldn't keep it in. Laughter bubbled out, making him throw his head back against the couch. 

"You promised you wouldn't laugh!" You screeched as you turned around onto your knees to face him, your hands on his thighs for balance as your head swam. 

"I'm sorry!" Eddie couldn't stop laughing. The idea was just too funny and you were just too cute being all sad about it. "I'm sorry, baby!"

"You're so mean!"

"You, my little kitten," He chuckled, booping your nose with his finger. His own tears, from laughing, running down his cheeks. "Are adorable."

"You better not tell anyone this." You grumbled. 

"Oh sweetheart, I'm telling everyone." He said, smiling at your pout. This strain was good, he'll give Rick that. Blue Goo made his girl cry over cats.

[a-writer-on-elm-street]

Bully

Pairing: Eddie x Fem!Reader

Summary: You've been bullied for a long time, but after something happens in the cafeteria, Eddie comes to check on you.

A/N: So this was my first attempt at an Eddie imagine. I hope it's okay!

You feel the weight of everyone's eyes on you as you walk through the cafeteria, your almost empty tray held loosely in your hands. You don't usually eat much at school, you've never really had the appetite, especially when it feels like everyone is constantly watching you.

You try to focus on getting to your seat without giving in to the pressure of everyone's stares. But your concentration is quickly broken when you feel something jab into your ankle, sending you plummetting to the floor. Your tray clatters on the ground, your food spilling everywhere. And then you hear it, the deafening silence before everyone bursts into laughter. You don't even want to get up. People picking on you has been a common occurence for the past few months but you have to admit, this has really shocked you. You never expected someone to trip you in the middle of the cafeteria.

When you finally push yourself to your feet, you're met with everyone's mocking smiles and laughter. People are pointing at you and it's hard to hear what they're saying over all the noise. But you hear one boy yell "freak!" You aren't even sure why people started being so horrible in the first place. You've always just kept to yourself, never bothering anybody. "Why are you doing this?"

One girl steps out from the crowd and looks you up and down, a smug smile on her face. "Why don't you take a look in the mirror?" She snickers. "Maybe that'll help."

You don't even say anything as you turn around and walk straight out the door. You go outside and disappear into the woods. You'd rather sit next to a tree alone than stay inside that building.

***

You stare at the stray cigarettes that are scattered across the grass in front of you, whilst you rub what's left of your current cigarette between your slightly singed fingers.

"I don't think that's how you're supposed to do it you know." A voice suddenly says. Looking up, you see Eddie Munson leaning against the tree across from you.

You sigh. "Yeah, well I don't smoke."

"Then what are you doing?"

You shrug. "Letting them burn out between my fingers?"

"Okay?"

"It's calming." You elaborate, noticing Eddie's understandably confused expression.

"Can I have one?" He asks.

"Sure." You say, handing him a cigarette and your lighter.

"(y/n), right?" He mumbles as he lights the cigarette between his lips.

You nod, and then the two of you drift into silence for a while until Eddie finally speaks up. "So uh, I saw what happened...in the cafeteria."

"I'm pretty sure everyone saw what happened in the cafeteria."

"Yeah well those people are assholes."

"I know."

"You okay?"

"Fine." You shrug, unable to stop watching him as he takes a drag of the cigarette.

There's another moment of silence before Eddie speaks again. "I think you're pretty cool." He says, pointing at you as he puts the cigarette out on the tree behind him. "Do you uh...do you wanna sit with us at lunch tomorrow?"

You look up at him to see a slightly awkward smile on his face. "Really?"

"Yeah. I mean, you are a freak so you might as well hang out with the rest of us."

"Thanks."

"No problem."

***

The next day...

You feel slightly uneasy as you carry your tray across the cafeteria. You're still undecided about whether or not you want to accept Eddie's offer to sit with him and his friends. To be honest, you don't really want to sit in the cafeteria at all.

But before you can even entertain the idea of turning and escaping out the door, you hear a familiar voice sound from across the room. "Hey!" Eddie calls, grinning at you from where he sits at the head of his table. You had no choice but to go over there now.

"Hi." You smile as you sit down in the empty seat next to him.

"This...is (y/n)." He announces, leaning back in his chair slightly as he smiles at you.

Everyone introduces themselves to you and you try to offer a smile and a few awkward 'hi's'. And when you look over at Eddie, he's grinning at you. He almost seems proud to have recruited you to his lunch table. And you've never felt more comfortable. More like you belong.

[Main Masterlist] [Eddie Masterlist]

[irrelevantwriter]

Haven’t You Heard?

Pairing: Eddie Munson (Stranger Things) x Female Reader/You

Rating: SFW (later chapters will contain smut and will be tagged accordingly)

Warnings: Language, banter (i fucking love banter), Eddie swinging his feet while sitting on a counter (*whispers* baby girl)

Word Count: 1207

Summary: Part 2. You encounter Eddie in the least likely of places. 

A/N: Here’s part two in my Flattery Will Get You Everywhere series. We got more cute shit and more flirting. You will come to see that I fucks with banter as a form of flirting and foreplay. Hope you guys like it. Enjoy and share with your friends! Feedback is that good shit.💗

Disclaimer: As always, reader inserts are true reader inserts. If you find any specifics in regards to reader’s appearance, kindly let me know and I will fix that.

*Check out my other Eddie fics here

*Read Part 1 here

*Find future chapters here

***********************

“Are you serious Brenda?”

You asked the question, but you didn’t expect a real response. Mostly because you’d asked her the same exact question three times within the last hour.

You were on your way to the AC/DC concert, an event you had planned for months. And for some godforsaken reason unbeknownst to you, your friend had decided she needed to stop by Family Video to take back the VHS she’d rented a week ago.

“You know if I don’t they’ll charge me and my parents will be pissed,” she explained, hardly affected by your attitude.

You rolled your eyes but acquiesced. The show wasn’t far and you had enough time to get in and out.

Brenda made a hard right into the parking lot of the video store, barely stopping in enough time to not drive over the cement divider.

“Jesus Christ,” you muttered, peeling your finger off the door handle as she came to a complete stop. “Who gave you your fucking license?”

“Hawkins DMV. After the third try,” she boasted. As if that was worth bragging about.

“Be quick,” you ordered as you touched up your lipstick, seeing her grab the VHS and open her car door.

“You’re coming.”

At your blank expression she went on.

“I want some candy. Red vines. They got ‘em inside.”

You rolled your eyes, not bothering to hide the gesture. You also decided not to argue. You were already there so you might as well. You could pick up your own candy too. Plus, Brenda would get bitchy if she didn’t get her Red Vines.

You begrudgingly got out of the car and made your way to the front door, seeing a few figures behind the glass. The door chimed as you both passed through, Brenda making a beeline for the counter. You noticed Steve Harrington there with a girl, the both of them donning vests with the store’s logo. What you weren’t expecting to see was Eddie Munson sitting on top of the counter, legs dangling as he talked with a younger kid in a baseball cap that said “BYTE ME”.

When he finally noticed you, he was startled, looking at you for a long moment before believing you were really there. He waved, the action hesitant as the boy beside him spoke  too low for you to hear, but you could tell it was full of emotion. Whatever he was saying.

You waved back, making your way over as Brenda handled her movie situation. You hadn’t seen Eddie since that party at Reefer Rick’s nearly a month ago. You’d thought about him quite a bit in that time. Thought about how your friends were right. He was sweet. And you liked that about him. Whether or not he’d ever wanna mix it up with the likes of you was a different story. You’d heard he’d harbored a crush on Chrissy Cunningham. And while the girl was cute, she was safe. A person who always erred on the side of caution.

And that wasn’t you.

“Hi,” Eddie announced a little too loudly when you finally made it over to him. The boy next to him rolled his eyes, apparently unimpressed by the greeting.

“Hey…no sacrificing of virgins today?” you teased.

“Thursday’s, remember?” he retorted, putting a finger to his own head and tapping.

“Oh yeah…must’ve gotten it mixed up with my weekly orgies,” you threw back, belatedly realizing the boy was still standing near you both. “Shit, sorry,” you amended, wincing as Eddie laughed.

“No worries. This is Dustin. He’s good people. Also a fellow devil worshiper and member of Hellfire,” he explained, shaking Dustin’s shoulder with more enthusiasm than the young boy appreciated.

Dustin shook off Eddie’s touch and smiled at you, his eyes momentarily dropping to the black bustier top you wore. You hadn’t exactly been expecting to walk into Family Video looking like this.

You’d worn head to toe black. Your pants were leather and tight as shit. It’d taken you nearly fifteen minutes just to shimmy them on. A price you were willing to pay. You’d thrown a cropped denim jacket on over the glorified bra, more for practicality than any need for modesty. You looked ready to go to a concert. And you were suddenly very aware of that fact.

Eddie noticed Dustin’s stare and punched him in the shoulder, signaling for him to get lost. After a silent conversion passed between the two, Dustin tipped his hat at you and took off towards Steve Harrington on the other side of the counter.

“Sorry about him. He’s special,” Eddie whispered, making you laugh.

“S’okay. I wasn’t really prepared to come here,” you gestured to your outfit, feeling somewhat sheepish. That might’ve been a first for you.

“So this isn’t your quiet night in with a movie ensemble?”

You shook your head, smiling as he teased you.

“Well for the record, you look great,” he added, voice lowered and infused with sincerity.

You bit your lip, feeling like a googly-eyed schoolgirl. “Thanks, Munson.”

A meaningful gaze passed between you both before you broke it. You looked for Brenda, suddenly uncomfortable with Eddie’s vulnerability. And your own.

You found her at the counter, now flirting with Steve while the other girl in the vest and Dustin restocked shelves. You rolled your eyes at Brenda, knowing that despite her having a boyfriend, she’d never pass up a chance to flirt.

“Where you guys headed anyway?”

Eddie’s voice brought you back, focusing on him again and the juvenile way he kicked his legs out from atop the counter. It was just like at Reefer Rick’s party. Deja vu.

“Indianapolis. For the AC/DC show,” you supplied, fumbling with your purse.

His eyes widened and his lips broke out into a wide grin, energy suddenly radiating off him like a toddler.

“No shit! That’s awesome! How’d you score those tickets?”

“Brenda’s uncle. He knows a guy who knows a guy. Supposedly.”

“Hey!” you both turn in the direction of the voice, seeing it was Brenda waving you over.

“Shit, I was supposed to grab some candy,” you hastily explained, getting your wallet out so you could make a mad dash for the candy aisle.

“Have fun. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Eddie joked, wagging a finger at you in a mock sternness.

You giggled and began to back away as Brenda’s calls grew in impatience.

“Haven’t you heard, Munson? I do it all,” you flirted, disappearing with a wink.

You didn’t bother with the candy. You told Brenda you’d buy her drinks at the venue and a meal afterwards to compensate. You did it mostly to get her off your back about flirting with Eddie. She’d noticed at the party and at the Family Video. She encouraged your pursuit. The funny thing was, you hadn’t even realized it was a pursuit. You’d just been enjoying his company, but the more you thought about it, the more you definitely wanted to have sex with Eddie Munson.

“You’re going to fuck him, aren’t you?” Brenda asked, sipping from her Big Gulp cup.

You looked out the window, hearing Hells Bells play over the radio. The song made you think of Eddie and you smiled.

“Yeah, I am.”