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[issues-is-my-name]

The Ink Shop Part 2

Description: After your encounter with Eddie, things are beginning to get a bit more complicated; especially when you ask him for another little favour. But, will Eddie go for it? 

Warnings: NSFW, minors DNI this ain't for you, angst, tiny bit of fluff, smut, fem oral receiving, male masturbation.

A/N: OK when I said this will be in 3 parts I lied, it's totally going to be at least 4, maybe 5! Thank you for the love you've shown the first part, it's incredible! You're superstars. 

❤️ If you like it please comment and reblog, it really makes my day!❤️

7k words 

Masterlist Part 1

For some reason, the shop seems more welcoming today than ever. It might be the fact that the sun is shining, it might be the radio seemingly playing all your favourite songs, or it might be last night. Either way, you feel loose and free, laughing at jokes, smiling at everyone, and genuinely just happier. 

Eddie saunters in thirty minutes late and you barely notice, apart from flashing him a bashful smile. 

“Well hello there sweetheart, you seem chipper today.”

You roll your eyes at the obvious insinuation, but your smile is warm. “I had a good night's sleep, that's all.” 

“Bet you did,” he grins, “you look real pretty.” 

Looking down, you consider your outfit; you'd decided enough of the corporate clothes, this is a tattoo shop after all. So, you'd paired a roll neck sweater with a short jean skirt and sneakers. A more relaxed outfit to go with a more relaxed attitude. Before you can say anything in reply he strolls over to his station. 

Right, so a few jabs, but he's being nonchalant. So put it out of your mind.

The morning moves quickly, a messy blur of clients and phone calls. After a fast lunch, the shop finally calms down a little. When you're focusing on sorting the mess of the heavy bookings tome in front of you, Eddie approaches, mischief glinting in his eyes. 

“I see London, I see France…” 

You follow his bowed head and cross your legs in sheer embarrassment, realising a sliver of your panties must be on display. 

“Eddie!” 

He simply laughs, throwing his head back far enough that your gaze drifts to his Adam's apple. 

“Sorry, I couldn't resist, I'm a big fan of this skirt,” he says, drinking you in with his eyes, “anyway I wanted to ask-” 

His sentence is stopped however by the loud ringing of the old corded phone. You and Eddie share a look, yours begging and his smug. Before you can grab it, he picks up the phone, putting on a ridiculous British accent. 

“Good Afternoon, London Underground Airways, this is your captain speaking- Oh shit Mac- Yeah she's- I know I'm not supposed to answer- Sorry I- Fine, here.” He brandishes the phone at you. 

“Hello? Oh, of course I'll let them know- I understand- It'd be my pleasure- see you soon.” replacing the receiver, you make a note on the pad at your side. 

“What'd he say?” Eddie asks, hovering over you. 

Not giving him the satisfaction of a look, you continue to make your note, however perfunctory it may be. “Mac's going to be a little late, he told me to tell his next client.” 

“He said my name, I heard it. What'd he say?” 

Placing your pen down with a loud click, you turn to him. 

You tell him as you smile smugly. “He told me to hit you for answering the phone.”

If anything, his grin grows broader. “Oh? Go on then princess, I'd hate for you to break the rules.” He turns his face, no doubt expecting a cuff to the back of the head.

Spinning on your stool, you slap him right across the cheek; not with all your strength, but certainly hard enough to remember. Eddie's face is a picture of shock, pink handprint already flushing his cheek. 

But that just makes his smile wider. 

“Harder.” He asks, eyes flashing arousal at you. 

“Eddie!” you shout, pushing him away, but his laugh echoes through the shop. Before he has a chance to continue, a burly biker type walks right in the door. 

“Good afternoon, can I help you?” 

“Yeah, It's Jimmy, I'm here for Mac?” 

“He's running a little late, but he'll be with you as soon as possible. Can I get you a coffee or something while you wait?” 

You can't help but hear a huff from Eddie, but before you can question it he's drawing in his book, entirely oblivious to the outside world. 

At the end of the day, you're tired, but still in fairly high spirits. It's the first time you've seen everyone in the shop at once. There's an edge to the air though, as if an expectation hangs over everyone. 

So… bar?” Mac asks in a defeated tone, although he's smiling. Everyone reacts; Eddie woops, pumping his fist, even the usually reserved Miranda is clapping quietly. You smile and nod, finally understanding what the atmosphere was about. 

As you all enter the dimly lit bar, chatting and laughing, you hear a low huff. 

“What did I do to deserve this?” John is standing behind the bar. An imposing figure, his arms crossed and face surly, but there's a kindness in his eyes. Mac leans straight over and hands him a card.  

“Easy John, I got this,” he chuckles. The card is accepted gratefully, the gruff demeanour lessening with the promise of payment. 

You accept a bottle of beer and slide into a nearby booth, the rest of the group filtering in. Mac walks over, eyes the space next to you, then grabs a stool to sit at the head of the table. It throws you for a minute; surely he knows he can sit there? Before you can tell him so, Eddie waltzes across the room with a tray of tequila shots and all the fixings with a cheeky look in his eyes. He slides right in next to you, tray and all, and places it on the table with exaggerated care. 

“Ladies, gentlemen.” He says, gesturing to the tiny glasses like an old timey butler. There's a succession of groans from the party, but despite this they all grab a shot. All except you. 

“I don't think I-” you begin, but he's waving a hand in the air. 

“Come on, you drink. It's a shot. Never had tequila before?” 

Fixing him with a sharp look, your cheeks begin to redden of their own accord. Eddie smirks and tosses his head back, hiding his eyes with one hand. 

“Shit princess, what did you do at college?” 

“Study.” You say primly, but take a glass tentatively and place it in front of you. 

“Right, so for the new guys…“ Eddie smiles right at you and licks his hand between his thumb and pointer finger. That hint of silver mesmerises you, the ball of his tongue piercing catching the light. It's almost sensual the way he does it, your eyes automatically following the movement of his tongue. “salt right here…” he sprinkles some on the spot he moistened, “then, lick, shoot, suck.” 

In a few fluid movements he licks the salt from his hand, downs the shot, and sticks a wedge of lime in his mouth. As your brain finally engages after that display, the little show that shouldn't have heated your insides up, you follow along, and take your shot with everyone else. It's easier than you would have thought, the lime easing the burn somewhat. 

Eddie squeezes your thigh under the table and whispers low enough for you to hear. 

“Good girl.” 

Shooting daggers with a simple look, he just smirks, leaving his hand on your bare leg as if challenging you. Dimly, you hear the echoes of a conversation in front of you; it's Julio, arguing about good tequila not needing salt and lime, but you're lost in the deep pools of Eddie's chocolate eyes.

For a moment, your body flashes red hot and you regret your choice of the high necked sweater. Tearing your eyes away you look at something, anything, but Eddie. 

The conversation drifts between all manner of subjects and you start to relax, the beer and tequila swimming in your belly loosening your tongue. It's nice, having a chance to chat and giggle with your coworkers in a setting not interrupted by the constant buzzing of tattoo machines. 

Julio and Chloe end up in a full scale argument about the karaoke machine in the corner. Before you're subjected to the horror of having to sing in public, you get up to grab another beer. Perching on a stool by the bar with your purse in hand, you're waiting patiently to be served. 

Eddie strolls over. You see him in your periphery; that confident walk as if he owns the very ground he walks on. Casually he hops up on the stool next to you, making no effort to hide the way he undresses you with his eyes. 

“Quit staring Eddie,” you say testily as you knock the bar with your bank card. 

“Now I can't look at you?” He asks with an amused grin. 

“I said quit staring, not quit looking,” you huff out. 

“What's the difference?” He asks, shrugging his shoulders and scrunching his nose at you.

You groan, turning on your stool to face him. “You are impossible,” 

He sticks his long tongue out childishly, flashing his piercing at you. 

Thankfully, John's voice cuts through the squabble. “What can I get you?”

“May I have a beer, please?” 

“You certainly may.” John cocks his thumb in your direction, addressing Eddie, “I like this one, she's polite. Don't scare her off.” 

Eddie dramatically holds his chest. “You wound me, sir!” 

Two beers are placed on the bar and John waves your card away. “Don't worry about it, Mac's treating you guys tonight.” 

As you swig your beer, you contemplate for a moment, trying to work out something.

“You're staring, sweetheart.” Eddie grins, as he gulps his drink. 

“I wasn't staring, I was thinking! I know that's a foreign concept to you.” It's catty, you know that, but he just seems to bring it out in you. No one else has annoyed you so much in your life just by… being. 

“That was rude. I thought we were playing nice?” he pouts playfully. 

“Sorry. I- Can I ask you something?” 

“Sure, shoot.” 

Turning to him, you speak what's on your mind. “Why do people get their tongues pierced? No one really sees it. I get like, nose and eyebrow piercings and stuff, but the tongue one I don't understand.” 

Eddie's grin is wide as he bites his bottom lip and stares at you. Well, you couldn't call it a grin. It's a flash of teeth, almost wolfish in its delivery. 

“Oh princess, you are too cute.” 

Staring at him with your brow furrowed, you try to work out what he means, but the longer you take, the more amused he looks. 

“What? What is it?” 

Sighing, he leans closer, the scent of aftershave, cigarettes and man clouding around you. “It's got a purpose, sweetheart.” 

“What, like, kissing?” 

Shaking his head, he looks you up and down. “Kinda. Kissing somewhere… specific.” 

Realisation breaks across your face, followed by a fierce blush that you can feel to the roots of your hair. Laughing, Eddie pulls away a little and takes a mouthful of beer. 

Voice an airy whisper, you lean over to him as you speak. “And girls like that?” 

His laugh is so loud it reverberates around the bar. 

“Yeah, a lot, in my experience.” 

“Oh.”

Well, the thought is there now, and you're pretty sure it won't ever go away, not without some sort of mind bleach. Eddie's head between your legs, his long tongue exploring your sex. The image is burned into the back of your brain, playing on a loop.

“You're looking a little hot there,” he says, as if he can read your thoughts. It's fair to say it wouldn't take a psychic to know what's rattling around your head right now. 

“I'm fine, this sweater is too warm,” you shake out, pressing your thighs together. 

“Liar.” 

Mouth opening and closing like a fish, you finally snap it shut with a crunch. Curiosity is eating away at you, and it's too easy to say what's on your mind after a couple of drinks. 

“Eddie, could you… tell me, what- what it's like?” 

He chuckles lightly and scoots closer to you. “you know I can't, I've not exactly had the pleasure.” 

“I know that, I mean…” 

For a second he just gapes at you. 

“Wait, princess, are you asking me to tell you or… show you?” 

Flustered, you turn away a little. “Sorry that's- that's too much isn't it. It's just you… did such a good job with the, you know, the other thing, I was just curious.” 

Eddie bites his lip, puffing out a little breath. “You know, flattery works with me. I did a good job, huh?” 

“Well, yeah. I can imagine you'd be really good at… that too. I could, owe you a favour?” It's bold, especially from you, but the way he's looking at you, the slight flush to his cheeks, you'd put money on him agreeing. 

Eddie stares at you incredulously. “Wait, you're saying you want me to stick my tongue in the holiest of holes and then you owe me a favour?” 

“Yeah? Like a little… arrangement.” 

He rubs his face with his hand, his voice muffled as he speaks. “I'd feel like I was taking advantage of you.” 

That confuses you for a moment. Surely you were the one who asked him? Hesitantly you reach out and touch soft fingertips to the back of his hand. 

“Please?” 

“Fuck.” He looks around, and turns to you, gazing into your eyes for a moment. 

“Fine. Right now.” 

“Oh I didn't-” 

“Listen, before I change my mind. Meet me out back. I'll tell the guys you're not feeling well and I'm taking you home.” 

Wordlessly, you grab your purse and head to the back door, heart hammering in your ears. It's a little dank out here, with the sound of a dripping pipe and moss covering the cement. Eddie comes out a moment later looking more serious than you've ever seen him. 

“You sure about this?” He asks, searching your eyes. 

‘Yeah, but…” you look around the small yard, gesturing vaguely. 

“Oh. Oh! You thought- oh Christ no, not here. I'm not a complete asshole. Come with me.”

Letting out a relieved breath, you follow him. He walks over to a gate in the fence and opens it, which leads down a narrow alleyway, a little shortcut between yards. That eventually opens up to another road with a couple of apartment blocks. The one he moves towards looks mostly clean, if a bit lifeless, with a creepy looking van parked out the front.

“This way sweetheart,” he says, leading you through the courtyard and to the stairs. 

For a second you stop in sheer surprise. 

“Wait, you live this close and you still manage to be late for work?” 

He chuckles, looking at you over his shoulder. “I have a condition, you know. Chronic tardiness; I'm afraid there's no cure.” 

You bat him on the arm playfully and he grasps your wrist, stopping on the stairs briefly, giving you a look that is wickedness personified. 

“If you're gonna hit me, do it properly.” 

“Eddie!” 

He laughs loud and grabs your hand, holding it in his until he reaches his door. That alone is enough to shut you up. It's warm and rough, and the feeling of his skin on yours, no matter how tiny, sends bolts of sensation through you. 

“Right, here is my castle,” he says as he opens the door and lets you inside. 

Chaos. That's the first word that crosses your mind. It doesn't look dirty, there's just things everywhere. A bookshelf stuffed with books and weird little trinkets placed any which way dominates one wall, and another on the other side with a huge music collection. There's a poky little kitchen with a couple of pots still in the sink, and a big couch with mismatched cushions takes up the remaining space. A tower of board games is precariously leaning next to it, and on the wall over the TV is an honest to goodness sword.

“It's nice,” you say as you walk in, as if you're not mentally organising it in your head. 

“You hate it.” He scoffs, pulling his boots off and dumping them by the door. 

“No, no, it's very… you.” 

“I stand by my previous statement.” He grins at you, clearly indicating he wasn't being entirely serious. 

“This is the bedroom.” He walks over and nudges the door open with his foot. Surprisingly, apart from an open clothes rail, an overflowing laundry hamper, and an enormous bed, there's not much in it. The wallpaper is a pretty purple colour, and looks oddly familiar. 

“Eddie isn't that the same wallpaper-” 

“-As the shop? Yeah. Mac let me have the leftovers. I was broke and this room was fucking pink.” 

You snort out a laugh; the thought of Eddie with a pretty pink bedroom was rather unbelievable.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. I can live with purple.” He roots around and grabs a pair of sweats. “Make yourself comfortable, I'm gonna change real quick.” 

Then he walks out into another doorway, you assume the bathroom. The urge to snoop is real, but you resist. It looks like he spends less time here anyway. 

The question is, how comfortable are you supposed to make yourself? Nerves start settling in, the thought of what you've asked him to do is finally sinking its way into your mind and down your jangling spine. What if he doesn't like the underwear you're wearing? God, you've been at work all day, what if you smell bad? Or taste bad? What if- 

“You can sit down, princess.” 

Eddie saunters back in, shirtless, a pair of grey sweatpants hanging so low on his hips you see his cut groin. A little squeak hiccups out of your throat at the sight. You stay standing, ready to make your excuses and leave, but the signal hasn't reached your legs just yet. 

“What's wrong?” his eyes are brimming with concern as he steps toward you. 

“No I- I was- maybe this-” 

“Hey, look at me,” he says, grabbing both of your hands. You stare up at him, his face gentle. 

“Whatever you're worried about, I'm sure it's nothing.” 

“But i haven't showered-” 

“When did you last?” 

“Well… this morning.” 

“You're fine. Trust me.” 

He backs you up onto the bed, your knees folding as you flop down. The air around you feels full, humid with anticipation. He's so close, your bodies almost pressed together. 

“I wanna kiss you.” He says softly, stroking a lock of your hair out of your face. Heart leaping into your throat, you try to suppress the urge to lean forward. The last thing you need is to fall for this man. Chloe's words echo in your head; he's not boyfriend material.

He'll break your heart. 

“That's not part of our deal, Eddie.” 

A frown flickers across his face. It's just for a second, a flash of vulnerability, before his usual cocky smile returns. 

“That's not where I wanna kiss you.” He winks and tugs at your top, “can I take this off?” 

Nodding wordlessly, you help him and wriggle it up and over your head. 

“God damn.” Eddie props up on an elbow, running a finger between your breasts, before following the edge of your black cotton bra. 

He looks up at your face, grinning wide, and points at your neck; little purple marks adorn it. “That why you wore that sweater today?” 

Flushing crimson, you run fingers across your neck. 

“Yeah, you marked me Eddie. Not exactly discreet.” 

He chuckles, stroking the side of your neck. “Sorry sweetheart, I won't do it again. Well, not anywhere that anyone can see.” 

Heat floods your stomach, the stark realisation that you want him to mark you clings to your insides. If he notices your reaction he doesn't say, instead he leans toward you pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek. 

“You're really pretty. I don't know if I said that before.” 

Awash with a new heat in your cheeks, you smile bashfully. “Thanks, I don't get told that very much.” 

Staring at you, he shakes his head.

“You should. You should be told every fucking day.” 

You open your mouth, but before you can reply he kisses your jaw, running his tongue down your neck, before he presses his mouth to the top of your breast, sucking roughly. A gasp flies out, and your hand makes a decision entirely on its own to grab his hair. 

It seems it was the right thing to do, judging by the deep groan that comes from him. It seems to spur him on, and he yanks the cup of your bra down, taking your nipple into his mouth. His tongue teases it, rubbing his piercing over the pebbled nub.

“Oh Holy fuck!” Back arching with the foreign sensation, you revel in it, wriggling underneath him. He smirks against your skin, and takes your nipple between his teeth. Moaning loudly, you pull his hair. 

“Fuck, sweetheart,” He looks up at you, pupils blown to black, “can’t hold back if you do that.” 

It's not a dare, but it tastes like one, and before you can think you're tugging at it again. Eddie's eyes roll back, and a hard look crosses underneath his eyes. 

His actions turn a little feral, pulling you up so he can unhook your bra, practically ripping it off you before his mouth is all over your chest, firm fingers digging into the flesh of your hip. 

“Fuck, Eddie” you stutter it out, voice laced with need. 

“Yeah?” He whispers out breathlessly between urgent kisses, making his way down your stomach. Suddenly he takes the flesh of your hip in his mouth and bites down little before sucking a bruise as you writhe under him. 

He reaches your skirt, hooking fingers into the waistband as he looks up at you, his tone urgent. “Can I?” 

As you nod frantically, he reacts immediately, yanking it down along with your underwear. 

“Fuck, look at you.” 

The urge to close your legs is real, embarrassed at the way he's ogling you right between your thighs. They quiver with tension, but Eddie forces them open with his large palms. 

“Don't hide from me. You still want this?” 

You nod, and his head snaps up to look at you. His voice is hard, swirling around your insides with an intensity you're not used to from him. 

“Say it. You need to say it.” 

‘Yes, please Eddie.” 

That satisfies him. He leans forward, breath ghosting over your clit. You're waiting for his mouth, his tongue, but that's not what happens. He inhales you, nose so close it's almost touching your sex. 

“Jesus Christ, you smell so fucking good.” 

“Eddie!” you cry it out, cringing at his words as you bury your face in your hands. 

“Relax princess, it's a compliment.” 

Before you can retort that it's not a compliment, it's weird, and he's a freak for saying it, it no longer matters. He's licking a fat stripe up the length of your pussy, long tongue pushing against you hard in an animal-like gesture. 

The noise that expels from your chest is inhuman, a choked, guttural breath that belongs in a cave somewhere, not a bedroom. 

He doesn't relent, his mouth exploring every inch of you with a ferality that has you tingling all the way to your toes. His fierce movements, accentuated by the bump of his piercing, have you nearly leaving the mattress. You're not sure if you're trying to get more, or move away. Not that it matters. His hands are holding you so firmly that all you can do is wriggle helplessly like a fish on a line. 

Fingers trace the outside of your entrance before they slide in, beckoning your release. Whimpering, you grasp the bedsheets in a need to keep contact with something real. 

“Talk to me,” he says between mind numbing messy kisses to your clit, “good, yeah?” 

“Eddie, f-fuck, its incredible, please, oh God, k-keep going!” 

You can practically feel the smirk on his face as he dives back in, suckling at your clit with an unmatched fervour, his tongue piercing flicking expertly as he does so. Suddenly, you're not creeping toward your release, you're being hurtled toward it, thrown into the depths of absolute pleasure. 

Hands finding their way into Eddie's hair again, you hold on tight, buckling up for the ride. It's almost violent the way he pulls your climax from you, and you scream loudly, almost folding in half before you fall back onto the bed. 

Eddie sits up, hands placed on your thighs, as he grins proudly, face shining with your slick. 

“You OK princess?” 

OK doesn't seem to cover it. You're panting wildly, each breath shallow and ragged, brain melted into soup. 

“Think you can go again?” 

That gets your attention. You sit up, gaping at him. “Again?” 

Chuckling, he runs a finger up your slit and circles your clit in a teasing manner. The slight touch has your thighs trembling. 

“I think you've got at least one more in you.” 

Without a further word he presses his tongue against you. On instinct you grip his hair once more, bucking your hips up. 

“Fuck, that's it sweetheart, ride my face.” 

This time he slips his tongue inside as his nose nudges at your clit, the thick muscle curling and writhing. Holding on tight, your hips know what to do, your body reacting and rolling to meet him. 

You're yanking his hair hard as you grind against his face, pulling deep grunts and moans from him which vibrate inside of you. It feels primal, sheer need clouding your mind, a fog that rolls into every limb and leaves no part untouched. 

“Eddie, fuck!” You moan loudly as your walls clench around his tongue, another climax bubbling its way to the surface. He doubles down with his efforts almost as if he needs this as much as you do. 

With one final thrust of his tongue you whine out your orgasm, back finally touching the bed once more. There are no thoughts, only your heavy breath and beating heart keeping you in the moment. 

After a few seconds that seem to stretch on for a year, he hovers over your face. He's wiped off your release, but nothing could wipe that smug grin. 

“So? Good?” 

It's not like he doesn't know. You pat blindly at his arm, words stuck in a puddle on your tongue. In an unexpected tender gesture, he swipes his thumb over your chin, his gaze pensive. You stare back, fingers reaching out to gently touch his cheek. 

“Are you going to kiss me?” You whisper, the words pooling from you unbidden. 

For a split second you think he's going to lean in and close the gap, but he flashes his teeth at you and flicks the tip of your nose. 

“That's not part of the deal.” 

Disappointment leaks into your stomach. Which is entirely unfair. He's using your words after all. Fighting the feeling, you force a smile. 

“I think I'll need a wheelchair to get home.” You chuckle, indicating to your still twitching legs. 

“Stay here. I'll take the couch.” 

“Oh, no, Eddie, I couldn't kick you out of your own bed thats-” 

“Hey, it's fine, honestly. I wouldn't offer if I didn't mean it.” He shrugs and rolls off the bed and onto his feet in one quick movement like a cat. “Here. If you want something to sleep in.” He hands you a faded t-shirt. Hesitating for a moment, your hand hovers over it, but he stuffs it into your grip. 

“Honestly, it's fine. I can drop you home before work so you can get changed and stuff. No big deal.” 

“What about your chronic tardiness?” You joke, smiling softly at him. 

“You're here, I'm sure you'll whip me into shape.” 

“You'd probably like that,” you tease. 

“More than you know.” He winks again, and walks to the doorway. “Night, princess.” 

“Night Eddie.” 

When he's gone you shrug the shirt on. It's clean, but there's an undercurrent of pure Eddie still there that's more comforting than you'll care to admit. Then, you lay there, staring at the ceiling. 

Well. You certainly weren't expecting to end up in Eddie's room, in his bed, but here you are. You're not sure what this all means just yet and processing it is just hurting your brain. A part of you is saying that you should get out now whilst you can. Another, louder part is telling you this is where you should be. The only problem: is this message coming from your heart, or much lower down? 

Chloe drifts into your mind whilst you lay there. Did they hook up in this bed? Are you in the same place she was? And how did that end? Clearly it was on good terms, considering how friendly they are, but how many girls have been where you are right now? A few? A dozen? A hundred?

After a while your thoughts just start to ache, leaving a migraine behind your eyes. Shifting on the bed, you try to get comfortable, but it's no use. You wonder if Eddie is still awake. After all, he's the only one that can answer your questions. 

Sitting up a little, you listen intently for any signs of life from the next room, but no matter how hard you strain your ears, you can't hear anything. 

As you quietly get up and creep to the door, you press your ear to it. Maybe that was a word you heard, a loud breath, or the signs of an overactive imagination. Turning the doorknob like a safecracker, you inch the door open ever so slightly to peek beyond. 

There he is, laying on the couch, eyes tight shut and face contorted in concentration. Odd. You slowly guide the door open a little more and your eyes nearly bug out of your head. 

Eddie's laying there, hand down his sweats, tugging at himself like there's no tomorrow.

You almost cry out in shock but manage to swallow the noise just in time. For what feels like a full minute you stand and stare, mouth gaping open. It's like you're hypnotised, unable to tear away from his urgent movements. 

A particularly good stroke has him bucking into his hand, and he lets out this strained whimper that shoots directly between your legs. 

Right, stop. This is wrong. How would you feel if he caught you? …OK, bad example. 

Reluctantly, you close the door again as quietly as you can before climbing back into his bed to stare at the ceiling once more. 

It looks like it's going to be a long night. 

********************

“You look really great,” Chloe says as she strolls into the shop, handing you a coffee, “like, happier, more relaxed.” 

It's a few days after your impromptu sleepover at Eddie's place, and she's absolutely right. You do look more relaxed, even you've noticed the change. There's more confidence in you, and a smile that was once a little forced is warm and genuine. 

“Thanks, I think I'm getting more comfortable here.” It's not a lie, exactly, but it's certainly not the whole truth. 

“Good, glad to hear it!” She beams at you and heads to her table. 

The bell over the door chimes once again startling you. Miranda and Mac are already here and it couldn't possibly be Eddie this early. 

“Um… Hi.” A gangly youth walks in, all arms and legs and bright blonde hair. He shuffles over to the counter awkwardly. 

“Morning, can I help you?” 

“Y-yeah, you do walk-ins today, right?” He asks, brandishing a crumpled flyer at you. 

Face lighting up, you fix your best smile. 

“Why yes we do, it's walk-in Wednesday. It's a little early though. Can I see some ID? 

He hands it over. The guy's freshly 21 and knows it, puffing out his little pigeon chest with pride. 

“Excellent. It's about 10 minutes until we open, but Miranda will be with you. Miranda, you got a book for this guy?” 

Confusion paints Mirandas's face, but then she smiles. 

“A walk in? Wow.” She strolls over and hands him her portfolio of designs, introducing herself. 

When Eddie finally turns up, there's another guy waiting. 

“You're not my 10:30.” 

The poor boy looks at him nervously like he did something wrong. 

“Eddie, he's a walk-in.” Mac says, calling over his shoulder. 

Eddie smirks at you and leans over the counter. 

“Well well, bet you're happy. Atta girl.” 

Blushing profusely, you move to tap him on the arm in warning, but he grabs your hand and kisses it. Heat flies straight to your belly at the gesture.

“Let me know when my 10:30 is here, alright sweetheart?” 

He's still holding your hand, brushing his fingers over your knuckles. Weakly you nod, gazing at him as your toes curl in your shoes. 

Shooting you a wink, he ambles over to his station as you watch him, eyes drawn to the way he moves. 

There's three more clients asking about Wednesdays; granted, one didn't have an ID, but the other two were seen and inked, and one even booked a follow up with Miranda. 

Buzzing with job satisfaction, you're grinning when you nip to the restroom, walking through the narrow corridor. As you exit, you're immediately accosted by Eddie. He stands close, a hand loosely holding your wrist to keep you there as he bends to whisper in your ear. 

“Now, you're not supposed to touch fine art, but someone's gotta pin you against the wall and nail you right.” 

“Eddie!” You whisper shout at him, only serving to make him chuckle low in his throat. 

“Sorry, couldn't resist. I have an idea, for that favour you owe me?” 

Body tensing of its own accord, you look up at him, your cheeks flushed and mouth slightly parted. Before you can ask what it is, a voice cuts through the tension. 

“Hey, keep it at home guys.” 

Mac's standing at the other end of the corridor with his arms crossed, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Pursing your lips, you wriggle from Eddie's grip. 

“It's not what it looks like Mac, I promise.” You say, shouldering past Eddie. 

“Come on sweetheart, don't get all shy on me now!” He shouts, walking after you.

You ignore him, giving Mac an apologetic look, and sit back down at the counter. God, that was embarrassing. Seems like professional and discreet are out the window. 

“So, as I was saying-” 

“Eddie, stop, not now.” you say, cheeks bright red. 

“I was only-” 

“Eddie please! I don't want to get into trouble!” 

Eddie scoffs and rolls his eyes, but backs off finally. 

You make a very clear point of being busy until the rest of the day, completing any ad hoc tasks you can think of. Tidying the stock cupboards, refreshing the consent sheets, and even organising the sparse counter. Anything to avoid further comment from Mac. 

When six rolls around you turn to talk to Eddie, but he's already leaving without a glance at you. 

Sighing, you make your way outside and home, trying to ignore the little sting in your chest. 

********************

It's Saturday before you see him again. Your day off was mostly spent worrying about how you upset him and thinking about everything you could have done differently. 

By the morning you're an emotional wreck, anxiety having done her job and left you a bubbling mass of maybes. When Eddie storms in the shop with a proverbial rain cloud over his head your heart pangs in your chest. 

He's such a big character, and you didn't realise until now the influence this has on this place. Usually he's energetic and upbeat; however, with this melancholy energy coming from him, everyone seems to stoop a little more, eyes a touch downcast, movements more shuffled and broken. It's like a black hole has descended on the shop, pulling joy from your soul and sucking everything into its gravity.

The tattoo shop is quiet for a Saturday. Not from lack of customers; it's just a more hushed and sullen atmosphere. By the afternoon you decide enough is enough and you grab Eddie's arm between clients.

“Eddie, can I talk to you?” 

He gets up, stretching his back in a feline movement, and walks with you slowly to the stockroom. 

“Listen, I'm really sorry about what happened on Wednesday, I didn't want to upset you and I can't stand seeing you like this and-” 

“Woah, sweetheart, slow down. You been worrying? About me?” He tilts his head, giving you a small lopsided smile. 

“Yeah? I thought you were mad at me.” You mumble out. 

“Oh, princess, come here.” He wraps you in his arms, holding your head close to his chest. A relieved breath puffs from your chest as you melt into the hug. 

“That's not what I'm upset about, I promise.” 

You pull from the embrace to look at him, a hopeful smile tugging at your lips. 

“Really?” 

Stroking your cheek softly, he presses his lips together. “You're adorable,” he moves his hand away and starts waving his arm about as he tells you what's wrong. 

“You know I'm in a band? Well we've got this regular gig at Hatters, which is great and all, but I found out they're looking for more bands at The Pit. That big rock club on Main? I've been trying to get hold of the damn owner but he's ignoring all my calls and I'm pissed off.” 

Grinning, you grab his arm. “Eddie, I can totally help you with that.” 

His gaze is soft and warm as he asks “Really? You'd do that for me?” 

“Of course I would. You got their number?” 

He digs around in his pocket and passes you a wedge of shiny paper. Unfolding it, you look at the details, smiling even wider when you see they're attempting a ladies night. There's a telephone number at the bottom, the contact listed as William. 

“I gotta idea. Just roll with it, OK?” 

He looks confused but nods at you. Skipping to the counter, you pick up the phone and dial the number. When it's answered by a young woman, you speak with a nasal voice, sounding almost bored. 

“Is Bill there?- Tell him it's Barb- oh trust me he's gonna wanna take this call honey.” 

Eddie's staring at you with an amused expression; you look back at him, flashing a smile while you wait. 

“Bill! How long has it been! Oh, don't say you don't remember me… oh, you do!- I'm good, I'm good- I'm managing this band, yeah, you've gotta book them- Corroded Coffin- yeah, yeah- They are hot right now, selling out their shows- look I know you're struggling getting the ladies in, but that's about to change. Their lead singer is-  well lemme tell you, if I were a younger woman- haha yes, sounds great! Next Saturday?- Nine- Great stuff- I'll speak to you soon.” 

Placing the phone down with a little click, you cross your legs and look at Eddie smugly. 

His jaw may as well be on the floor, eyebrows so high that he resembles a cartoon character. 

“Barb? Selling out their shows? If I were a younger woman? Where the fuck did that come from?” 

You giggle, “I thought he'd listen if he thought I was a business connection. I took a shot, a little bullshit can take you far.” 

He swoops over to you and grabs you in his arms, lifting you bodily from your seat and swinging you around as you squeal helplessly. 

“Saturday? Not even midweek? Princess I owe you big time.” 

“Eddie I already owe-” 

He's not listening, running over to Mac and bouncing on the spot like a child. “Mac, Mac, did you hear? I'm playing at The Pit!!” 

You watch as he explains what just happened; he's so animated, gesticulating wildly as loose locks of hair fly from his bun. Mac beams at him and hugs him in a fatherly motion before Eddie springs back over to you. 

“Who the fuck is Barb?”

“I dunno, she sounded worldly.” 

He grins, shaking his head, “I can't believe you lied for me. You seem… different lately. More confident. It suits you.” 

Blushing, you thank him. For a second you stare at each other, both lost in the other. 

Eddie shakes his head, and looks at the time. 

“Fuck, right, I got 20 minutes, I'll be back!” He grabs his coat and runs out of the shop shouting “personal errand!” 

Chuckling, you sit back down at the counter. Mac approaches, smiling softly. 

“You did good Miss, he's really happy.” 

“Thanks, I couldn't bear the sulking.” 

He laughs and touches your shoulder, “he cares about you. In case you didn't notice.” 

He walks away nonchalantly as if he didn't just drop a bomb at your feet. Eddie cares about you? You're still pondering it when he returns a half hour later looking sweaty and dishevelled. 

“Princess, I got you a present,” he whispers, brandishing a nondescript black bag at you. You peek inside and shut it immediately. 

“Eddie what the fuck!” You whisper, face flooding with blood at the sight as you hide it under the counter. There's a sex toy in the bag, well at least one, but you were so shocked at the sight you didn't get a good look. 

He chuckles and leans in close. “Thought you'd like it.” 

“Eddie I don't know how to- to use this stuff,” you mumble quietly, looking around to make sure no one's listening. 

He smirks at you in response.

“You free tonight? I can show you.” 

Taglist

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[issues-is-my-name]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐭

Summary: Eddie Munson made it big. Now, when he returns to Hawkins for a hometown concert with his band, he is reminded of the girl he's been in love with for the past 6 years when Steve Harrington calls. Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader WC: 13.6k Warnings: 18+; Minors DNI; smut; piv; language; rough sex; bathroom sex (unprotected–wrap it before you tap it babes); some dirty talk; this is a whole ass fic. This is porn WITH plot besties. Quick Links: Masterlist

“You’re a pervert, Eddie Munson,” You laughed, he smiled.

“Well, can you blame a guy? Look at you.” The way his eyes trailed. He was hunting and you were perfect prey.

“I can’t really… but you can.” Your bottom lip passed through your teeth quickly—barely grazing it as the top of your shoe ran along the inside of his leg. He was fucked.

There were more than five drunks inside of The Hideout.  

The last few years had brought out a different side of Hawkins, hell, Indiana to this little bar in the middle of bum-fuck nowhere. It wasn't often that there were empty seats, that the bar wasn't overwhelmed with patrons, or that everyone inside hadn’t flocked to the dive for a taste of metal.  

Corroded Coffin had made it—in a… regional success type of way.  

Every year, the band returned to Hawkins after moving to the city to get more gigs. It acted as a reunion of sorts––bridging their past and present into a three-hour concert inside of a small bar where they had originated outside of Gareth’s garage. And much to their surprise when they had returned for the first time a few years before, the entire town had wanted in. For the first time they had felt accepted—but only because they had garnered some fame, not because they were cool, good people.  

And Eddie always felt that superficial fanaticism seep through the walls that separated the band from the crowd because the only people he believed truly cared for him and his music rarely came. Steve, Nancy, Robin, the gaggle of kids (they will always be kids to him) from Hellfire, and you. Separate ways had led to a hundred different paths and rarely, if ever, did he see one of them lead back to Hawkins.  

He had been completely and utterly enamored with you the moment he saw you stab a horrid, rabid bat straight through the eye. Eddie always wished it had been a more romantic story, but he had to admit it, you had never impressed him so much.  

And then you graduated. Went off to college and kept in scattered contact with everyone.  

But you never left his mind. As much as he wanted to move on from what he called a “silly crush” in retrospect, Eddie thought about you more often than he should have.  

And no girl could compare. He always pondered the ‘what if’ and he’d be lying if the songs that dealt with unrequited romance didn’t have anything to do with you. He was stuck. So incredibly stuck and didn’t know what to do. Eddie believed he would never get the chance to see you again.  

Until he got a call from Steve Harrington three days before he traveled back to Hawkins. 

It was out of the blue. Eddie wasn’t even sure how Steve had his number because he was always on the move—half the time he and his bandmates slept in their bus because it was one destination after the other. Nevertheless, Steve had managed to reach him and the conversation had been replaying in his mind non-stop.  

“Hey Eddie!”  

Jeff was standing at the pay phone outside of the Dayton club they had been playing in. Corroded Coffin had begun to make their way to Hawkins slowly over the past month and they were almost there. The set was half completed, and they were in the middle of their break when the pay phone rang as if they were in the middle of a horror film. They were all drenched in sweat and their limbs were killing them, the crowd was absolutely blustering. Their gigs had become what they had always dreamed—a metal rave of sorts.  

Eddie had been sitting on an overturned bucket smoking a cigarette when Jeff called out to him, hand over the transmitter as if his yell was going to change the mind of the caller.  

“What?” Eddie replied, letting out a puff of smoke that blurred Jeff for a second.  

“You gotta call! You’re gonna wanna take this one.”  

He made it sound as though the President was calling… not that Eddie would ever answer that call. So, Eddie got up off his bucket and let the cigarette dangle from his mouth as he shooed Jeff away from the phone. Holding the phone in one hand and lifting his other to lean against the glass, Eddie sighed and answered.  

“Yeah, this is Eddie.”  

“Ah! Guys I got him!” Was what he heard in return. There was a scramble on the other line and Eddie furrowed his brows, confused at the excitement. No one was ever calling him unless it was Wayne, a groupie he had made an empty promise to, or someone looking to book them.  

“Hello?” He asked more impatiently. 

“Yeah, yeah, hold on man!” He knew exactly who it was. It had been 6 years, not a lifetime.  

“Steve?”  

“Woah oh! Mega Rock Star remembers me? Woulda thought you’d forgotten about us in Hawkins.” He imagined Steve was a little drunk, smiling widely into the phone as the sounds of shuffling made its way through the receiver.  

“I don’t know if I’d classify us as ‘Mega Rock Stars’ but I’ll take it from you, Harrington.” Eddie grabbed the cigarette from his mouth.  

“So why you callin’ me?”  

“I heard your band is coming to Hawkins on Tuesday and we were wondering if we needed tickets or something to get in.” Steve sounded more distant, as if he was trying to get others on the call or at least let them have a chance to listen too.  

“We?”  

“Hi Eddie!” Robin’s voice was distinct, deep, and excitable through the static.  

“Eddie! You really made it!” That was Nancy. She was always a little more reserved than Robin, more than Steve, but still kind to him.  

Eddie moved the phone away from his mouth and chuckled. He couldn’t believe it, truly. He hadn’t expected to hear from anyone who he considered to be friends, who went through so much alongside of him, and helped him in a time of need but there, on the phone, were three people who had.  

“So you all wanna come? Is that what I’m getting from this?” He asked and all of them replied at once. Each along the lines of “yes” but scattered types of replies.  

“And if we could, I think a few others want to stop in too.”  

He hoped Steve knew what that made Eddie believe.  

“These others… they’re not just bottom feeders looking for a good time?” Eddie proposed instead. He felt a shot of nervousness surge inside of him. God, he felt like a teenager.  

“No, no…” Robin laughed into the phone, “they’re friends, Eddie. You’ll be glad to see them. Some are even traveling home for this so you better put on a good show.”  

Eddie knew Dustin and Lucas had gone out of state for college. He had sent them two records as presents and received a group call the next day in thanks. Eddie knew that’s who it had to be but Robin still said some. He was still holding out a little hope.  

“Hey Eddie! Come on! Time to go!” Jeff called out from beyond the pay phone. He was the last to walk back into the venue as the door opened to loud amps shaking the building.  

“Listen, guys,” Eddie said quickly, trying to use his final seconds wisely, “I’ll um, I’ll call the place after we leave tomorrow and get you on a list.”  

Eddie watched Jeff disappear through the door and knew his time was almost up.  

“I gotta go but just go to the bar and they’ll bring you in. I’ll put you at a table so you don’t get ambushed by anyone.” Considerate.  

“And drinks are on the house too.”  

“Fuck yeah!” Robin screeched and disconnected her line.  

“Sounds great, Eddie. We’ll see you on Tuesday.” Nancy said and disconnected herself too. Steve remained on the line.  

“Awesome, man,” Steve replied, surely nodding his head in approval. Eddie felt something lingering there but didn’t push. However, he did need the names.  

Eddie looked around him, trying to find someone who could help his pen-less situation but couldn’t find anyone. He patted down his jacket, the pockets of his jeans but nothing. And perhaps he waited too long, but Gareth came back out, looking at him exasperatedly.  

Eddie waved him over quickly. The dude always had a pen. He put the cigarette back in his mouth.  

“I’ll need the names, Steve,” Eddie said over the phone and shoved it between his ear and shoulder. Gareth ran over.  

“I need a pen. You got one?”  

Gareth summoned a pen from his pocket as though it were the one ring.  

“Names, Steve,” Eddie repeated, slightly muffled by the cigarette he tried not to lose.  

“All right, all right,” Steve fumbled. In his childhood home in Hawkins, Steve, Nancy, and Robin all stood around the phone counting the people in the party.  

“Me, Robin, Nancy, Henderson, Sinclair, Jonathan…” Steve trailed off and Eddie felt his heart sink.  

“That all?”  

“Um,” Steve was listening to the two women rattle off names, “Max, and Vicky… oh and Y/n.”  

“Y/n?”  

Eddie felt Steve was dangling a prize at the end of a fishing hook.  

“Yeah. She’s coming in from Indianapolis.”  

Indianapolis.  

“She work there?” Eddie couldn’t help but ask. Gareth gave him a look.  

“Yeah teaches now… English or… History or something.”  

“Oh,” Eddie answered and finished writing the names on the inside of his forearm. Gareth watched him write your name last, so clear, and careful. He knew now why Eddie was acting the way he was. “I didn’t know she moved.”  

“Yeah… somethin’ about wanting to be closer to the city or whatever… a part of me thinks she was trying to find you.” Steve laughed. Eddie didn’t.  

“What?” Eddie’s response had come out as a whisper of words and Steve hadn’t heard it.  

“So we’ll see you Tuesday, yeah? Go play your heart out, dude.”  

Then Steve hung up. 

And it was the phone call he had been waiting for hear after all these years.  

He played that Dayton show with so much excitement he made a girl faint in the front row… and it was all because of a stupid little phone call from a state away. 

The station wagon was packed full of a palpable energy no one could explain.  

It was strange; venturing off to a new adventure that wasn’t filled with danger together, but it was new, and above all else, nice. The memories that Nancy’s station wagon had held were far more interesting upon reflection than they had been at the time. And you listened to each story from the middle section, squashed beside the window between Steve, Dustin and Jonathan as Max and Lucas took the back and Vicky, Robin, and Nancy sat in the front.  

You couldn’t stop tapping your fingers against your knee.  

Robin was droning on about a Halloween party a few years back that you hadn’t gone to when you accidentally tapped Steve’s leg instead of your own. You shot a sorry look at him in a rapid response.  

“Sorry about that.”  

“It’s fine,” he reassured you, watching you look out the side window in return. You had been wearing a sparkly black dress––one Robin had swooned over in the kitchen with Vicky. 

From all the years he had known you, you were never a 'sparkly little black dress’ kind of girl to Steve. Except tonight you were. And he smiled at it. He turned his head forward and caught Robin and Nance’s eyes in the mirror because they were all on the same page.  

Eddie Munson had been infatuated with you for as long as they could remember and you, as personable and charismatic as you were, couldn’t pluck up the courage to accept the same about yourself.  

“Nervous or something?” Steve knocked your shoulder. You didn’t tear yours eyes away from the window.  

“No, I’m fine.”  

“You’re a little jittery.”  

“I pregamed.”  

“Where?”  

“With Robin.”  

“At my house?” Steve looked knowingly. You hadn’t touched a drop at his place.  

“Sure.”  

“Are you listening to me? What’s wrong?”  

You turned and looked at him, eyes a little spaced out from the present inside of the vehicle and saw not only Steve looking at you, but Dustin and Jonathan too. You knew the others were listening.  

“Nothing’s wrong.”  

Everything was wrong. Your stomach was in tumbles. You hadn’t seen Eddie in the flesh for 6 goddamn years and the last time you saw him all you wanted to do was jump his bones. So, how, in good conscious, could you look at the man again and think you wouldn’t feel the same.  

Surely he was still the same Eddie you had liked before… just a little older and a bit more sure of himself. The self-certainty was what you were afraid of, however. You didn’t know if you could get yours back.  

“If you’re going to lie to me I’d rather it be about something stupid.”  

“I’m not lying about anything,” you defended, eyes going stern, “I’m fine.”  

“She’s nervous about seeing Eddie.” Max spoke up from the back as she leaned her elbows in the small gap between Dustin and Jonathan. You narrowed your eyes directly at her, willing your mouth to open but no sound came out.  

“It’s okay, Y/n,” she reaffirmed your unvocalized feelings without hesitation, “things just got in the way last time.”  

“Yeah and I’m sure if he’s still the same old Eddie we know he’ll be head over heels for you,” Lucas supported her belief and you felt your head go hot. You couldn’t believe they were airing your dirty laundry in the car like this. 6 years passed and they still read you like their favorite children’s book.  

“How could he not? She’s still a fucking smoke show,” Robin laughed, to which Vicky agreed. Nancy tried to hold in her giggle but the eldest Wheeler smiled so widely you could see the lines from her eyes from your position in the car.  

“Listen,” Steve piped up again, “they come to Hawkins once a year… you don’t live here anymore, neither does he, and maybe, just maybe, there is a reason for everything to come home.  

“You sound like a horoscope, Steve.”  

“I was a matchmaker in my other life. I thought you knew that?” He narrowed his eyes teasingly, trying to make you feel less anxious about seeing him again.  

“If he is anything like he sounded on the phone, Eddie still holds a candle for you.”  

Steve hadn’t told you he talked to Eddie. This outing had been planned for weeks without so much of a word that anyone had still talked to him consistently—besides Dustin. Dustin certainly pestered Eddie over the phone about his Sophomore college problems. Eddie never knew how to properly reply to his concerns in turn.  

“You talked to him?” Dustin furrowed his brows at Steve as Robin turned around in her seat to listen, “when?”  

“A few days ago,” Steve was sheepish. He hadn’t wanted anyone to know he had extended his arm asking for a favor.  

“About what?” Dustin lamented.  

“Just about the concert, man,” Steve sighed, pointedly not looking at you.  

“And did he say anything of importance?” Robin pushed Steve as her hand knocked against his knee in a slap. He shifted uncomfortably. She had been on the call for 20 seconds, maximum, and didn’t hear what had been said once she hung up.  

“Well,” he started, “we talked for a bit and Nance and Robin were on the line too—“  

“For a second!” Robin interjected.  

“—and then he asked for the names.”  

“That’s all?”  

“That can’t be it,” Robin made a face, “you were still on the phone when we left the room.”  

“He asked about you, okay?” He gestured to you, closing his eyes in defeat. You stopped tapping your fingers and looked at him with serious eyes.  

“It isn’t!?” He folded his arms across his chest the best he could, “you listened to ABBA and Journey and all of a sudden in college you got real into metal and we all thought it was strange!”  

“I was expanding my interests!“  

“To get him!”  

“People experiment in college, Steve. In more ways than one.”  

“You’re telling me that you moved, changed interests, and then faltered back to the plan you had since you were five in the span of a few years? You went out there hoping to run into him because you didn’t know how else to approach him.”  

“You’re just being mean now,” you scoffed, turning your head back to the window. Robin and Steve glanced at one another before Dustin nudged him to do something.  

“Y/n,” he sighed, “we can argue about the past all we want but we are ten minutes from seeing him again and I don’t want to watch two of my friends, our friends, dance around their feelings again. For all of our sakes, just say something to him.”  

“Steve, just let it go,” you mumbled quietly and began chipping away at the nail polish you had applied hours before.  

They all felt a little defeated in that car.  

“Fine, fine,” he said and threw his hands up in exasperation as the others watched in a necessary pity. It wasn’t easy being open. It wasn’t easy being willing to show a vulnerable side of yourself that you’d been holding onto for years.  

“But if you do end up needing to pound one out together, there’s a great bathroom at The Hideout.”  

“Steve!” 

The Hideout and surrounding businesses were packed. Never, in all your years living in Hawkins, had seen it so busy and the thought that Eddie and his bandmates had brought this many people to a little bar made you happy.  

He had made it like he always wanted to.  

Steve had taken the lead once you had arrived and the bouncer at the door led the group of you to two booths just off the left side of the stage they had assembled for the band. It was already claustrophobic inside but the idea that you all had somewhere to go was comforting—quelled your nerves in the slightest.  

Jonathan and Steve had taken the liberty to gather drink orders and the group was split into two. The ‘kids’ in the booth closer to the front and the ‘adults’ in the one behind. It was easier to designate it that way even if everyone was an adult now. You sat squashed between Nancy and Robin, Vicky letting her eyes wander the room beside Robin.  

“You all right?” Nancy asked, her big eyes sincere, “Steve was kinda being a dick in the car.”  

“It’s fine, Nance. Really,” you played with the hem of your dress under the table. Suddenly, you threw up your hands and let your head fall into them on the table.  

“I don’t know why I’m so fucking nervous,” you exclaimed muffled in your hands, “it’s like my confidence jumped out of a goddamn plane.”  

“Being nervous isn’t a bad thing, babes,” Robin told you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. She looked at Nancy for support but she was lost on what to do. You had it down bad. “We all get nervous around people we like.”  

“That’s the problem, Robin,” you said, pulling your head out of your hands and looking her dead in the eye. “I think I’ve been in love with him since I was in high school.”  

Well, shit.  

“I’m sure he’s got roadies and girls willing to do anything for him and I’m nothing like them… I literally have a stack of papers to grade tomorrow even though I know I’m going to be hungover. He’s a-a rock star or at least on his way to becoming one.”  

“Bon Jovi’s wife was his high school sweetheart,” Nancy mentioned and Robin nodded her head. Sure, but that was a single case. A single case.  

“It’s just not the same as it was.”  

“Jesus, Y/n… could you be any more of a downer?” Steve returned with Jonathan in tow carrying a mix of beverages for everyone. “You need to get drunk because I cannot stand another second of you moping around like the world is ending. We’ve been there, we’ve made it out, and we’re going to have a good night and enjoy watching Eddie rock his fucking ass off like we knew he always would.”  

Steve sat beside Vicky and passed you your vodka cran.  

“And if you don’t want to get drunk, at least get some liquid courage to look the guy in the eye.”  

He lifted his glass once everyone had received theirs.  

“Henderson!”  

Dustin looked over the wall of the booth, making eye contact with you as if he was expecting something else but saw Steve’s raised glass and the others stood obnoxiously on their seats.  

“To old friends and finding the courage to get what we want.”  

“Cheers!”  

You downed the glass in one take. 

You stopped at 2.  

The drinks were strong and you still wanted to know what was going on by the end of the night and the moment the house lights went a little dim, the want to drink disappeared.  

When he walked onto that stage your heart nearly imploded in your chest.  

Everyone at the two tables squealed and cheered, their smiles contagious as they watched the crowd react to the band they had become. It was chaotic and full, filled with loud singers and louder instruments but everyone was having a good time. Drinks were flowing, the air was cloudy from smoke, and no one cared what anyone else was doing.  

You had never seen him so in his element. So confident in his abilities that you wonder where your own had went over the last few days. He played like his life depended on it, fully immersed in the music surrounding him.  

When he picked up that guitar and ripped the first chords, it was as though God had reached a hand into his soul and told him, play.  

It was intoxicating. Just the images seared into your mind as his fingers played deftly on the board and the way his smile could light up the room. He knew exactly where you all were and every now and again, he’d look over, intentionally, and you swore that every time he looked, there was more than just simple joy swimming in your direction.  

Slowly, you calmed. The anxiety began to wash a way as time went on and after an entire two hours of non-stop metal, there was a break. 30 minutes and the scene around you was still electric.  

Nancy finished her beer, snacking on some mixed bar nuts as she watched the water from the melted ice drip down your cup. No one checked back in on you, but they felt a shift in your air. It wasn’t tense or anxious, you had finally settled into the woman they knew—maybe with a little fear still lingering.  

“You wanna go with me to the bar? I want another,” she pointed to her beer as she leaned into you. You didn’t see why not, missing the glance she shared with Robin and Robin then shared with Steve.  

The trip to the bar was like walking through a maze. There were people everywhere and when there wasn’t a person, there was a table or a chair. You swore halfway there a piece of a girls hair touched your mouth because the pungent smell of hairspray was worse being consumed. And in all honesty, the bar wasn’t any better. It didn’t help that there were tall men trying to flag over the three bartenders or that some girl had half of her chest out to get free drinks.  

But who were you to judge? Everyone was just having a good time.  

“What do you want?” Nancy asked you as she grazed the taps just behind a few bodies blocking the physical bar top.  

“I-I don’t know, Nance, ah, um, I’ll just take whatever you’re having,” you replied, not really paying attention because of the people bumping into you from behind.  

Nancy, in her abundance of smartass behaviors, pushed her way to the front and after a second, a little gap opened up. She took the stool she could see and you stood next to her, your hands gripping the bar tightly.  

“You better now?” She asked with an eyebrow raised.  

“Jesus Christ…” you muttered, rolling your eyes.  

“You’ve seen him, you’ve sat there for two hours and everything’s fine. Just like we said.”  

“That doesn’t change how I feel on the inside.”  

“Well…” Nancy’s back perked up. You saw her eyes gleam, the smile on her face breaking across every feature, “Better boost your confidence, girlie. He’s coming this way.”  

Before you could question anything, you felt a hand on your lower back. You felt almost weightless. Like the room had paused and you’d remember that feeling of his hand on your back.�� 

“My eyes aren’t deceiving me, are they?” His voice was a little worn. The kind anyone would get if they spent too many nights singing along to songs or screaming into a crowd. “Nancy Wheeler and Y/n L/n here in the flesh.” He still hadn’t removed his hand.  

Nancy smiled wide, happy to see him again after so long. She hopped off of her chair, brushing beside you best she could to give him a hug. He removed his hand from you and hugged her tightly, giving her a friendly kiss on the cheek.  

You could see some of the other women in the bar. Their eyes lingering on him. They knew who he was; waiting for their turn to pounce.  

You felt the ugly bug of jealousy begin to grow.  

“Look at you!” Nancy leaned back, taking Eddie’s look in with all her excitement. “You did it!”  

“Not quite yet but I’ll take it,” he laughed, removing himself from her and she quickly realized she made a mistake getting up. Her seat was gone. Eddie looked at you.  

God. He had a smile plastered on his face. His cheeks were red, his hair sticking a bit onto his head from sweat, and he was wearing a worn Ozzy shirt under a new, perfectly tailored leather jacket. You wouldn’t have known that he was putting on a brave face. That his heart was hammering against his chest seeing you there.  

“It’s good to see you,” he started, his eyes wandering no differently than they had in any of your earlier encounters. He was quite shameless when it came to checking people out. “I wasn’t sure if Steve was telling the truth that you’d actually be here.”  

You tried to play it cool too, “and miss Gareth on the drums?” You smiled, unable to not match his own, “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”  

And as if it were second nature, Eddie pulled you in for a hug too. Different than Nancy, he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and you around his torso. Your hands splayed across his back, feeling the distinct texture of leather underneath your finger tips.  

Instead of kissing your cheek, he kissed the side of your head. Right where your forehead ended and hair began. You didn’t see him close his eyes to savor it. He felt you squeeze the back of his jacket.  

Nancy felt like a third wheel. But a giddy one. 

“How long has it been?” He asked you specifically, barely pulling away. He still had his arms wrapped around you and you him. “Six years?”  

“Sounds about right,” you replied, gazing into his brown eyes that could swallow you whole. The creases along the edges—smile lines, per se—were more prominent but he was one who couldn’t help but smile when he was happy. He was amazed by so much.  

You felt his fingers graze the spot where your neck peaked out from the dress.  

“That’s a little too long.”  

“Yeah, well…” you couldn’t help but glance down at his lips, “we’ve all got different things goin’ on now.”  

He repeated what you had done with your own eyes. It made some of the fears begin to wash away.  

Nancy looked sheepishly at the ground, biting back a smile. She took a second to look around the room and saw Robin standing above everyone else from the booth’s seat. That sneaky shit. Robin began waving frantically, calling Nancy back to the table in a haste.  

“Oh!” Nancy said rather loudly, pulling you away from the bubble you hadn’t realized you were sucked into. You let go of Eddie, pulling away and leaning back into your spot at the bar.  

“I forgot to ask the others what they wanted!” She said almost as though she was reading a script unnaturally. You frowned knowing they all brushed you two off.  

“I don’t—“ you began but she was gone before you could get a sound out. She was playing matchmaker too. You sighed, shaking your head before turning back to Eddie. He was already looking.  

“So, are you getting something or looking for the rest of them?” You asked, “they’re all at the first two booths over there.” A finger pointing in the direction of the booths led you to see a pop of hair disappearing from above everyone else.  

“I was gettin’ a beer,” he responded with a nod but a man clapped him on the back before he could continue.  

“Great show, man!”  

And then another, “Fuckin’ rocks, dude!”  

Followed by others beginning to realize that the man standing beside you was one of the members of the band they had come to see.  

“Can you sign this?”  

“We saw you in Chicago last year. It was great!”  

“I managed to drag my girl to one of your shows and she’s loves you now! I don’t know how I can compete!”  

Eventually it had become one after another and you wondered if he got this reception everywhere. You turned back to the bar and waved over one of the bartenders, a female, and was happy she could get you something. She put down a napkin in front of you. 

“What can I get you?”  

“Two Blue Moons, tap please,” you ordered and she nodded, eyeing Eddie behind you as he graciously thanked each person and tried to break free of their incessant badgering. He only had 30 minutes.  

“You know him?” she asked, pulling a cup from the wooden slats and grabbing the hose. Her head tipped in his direction.  

“Yeah,” you cleared your throat, “old friends.”  

“You’re lucky,” she laughs and hands one of the beers over, “everyone wants to be friends with him.”  

You turned over your shoulder and saw a gaggle of girls hovering. Their faces were bright and flustered. One put her hand on Eddie’s arm, which he took back quickly. He wedged it between you and the patron sitting next to you, leaning onto the bar so they didn’t touch him.  

But his arm was touching you. He was barely leaning into you, but you noticed. Your body was on fire any time he was close.  

His fingers gripped the bar tightly as if he was trying to disappear through it. The rings on his hand were less familiar but you recognized the pig that glinted in the light.  

“So they do,” you looked back at her and she smiled, “how much?” For the beers. She shook her head.  

“On the house,” she pointed at Eddie.  

“Thanks,” was all you could say in reply.  

Both glasses in your hand, you turned back around and nudged his arm that was leaning on the bar. His head immediately turned to you—hair still frizzy and wildly falling around his face as you held one out to him. The girls behind him miffed from the lack of attention.  

“Here,” you motioned for him to take it with his free hand but he shook his head, face going a little sour. You furrowed your brows thinking it had something to do with the beer except he tipped his chin to the bar.  

“Put them on the bar,” he said sternly, feeling the grabby hands of those girls on the arm that was free. The space was so confined he knew it wouldn’t end well with a beer in his hand.  

“Eddie!” One of them called and you could see it in his eyes that it was the last thing he wanted to do. He didn’t want to pay any attention to them.  

Eddie was learning the boundaries of fans and signing things. Saying hello, taking a picture were fine but the moment they invaded his space, the moment they put people he cared for in any kind of danger, he drew the line. Something inside of him told him it was building to that.  

“Eddie! Can you take a picture with us?” They had their camera ready, a guy, maybe one of their boyfriends, was holding the camera for them.  

He looked at you apologetically. Who were you to prevent him from making a fan(s) happy?  

“It’s fine, go on,” you told him with a nod, hoping your eyes conveyed that.  

They wrapped their arms around him. They held on tightly while he barely touched them. When the flash went off and nearly blinded you from the back, more people noticed he was standing there and you felt the situation was just getting worse. You wanted to stay here with him but not at the expense of your comfort. If you went back to the booth now, no one would notice.  

Scattered thank you’s from the girls were audible over the light tunes from the stereo that broke through the talking amongst the room. Some guys followed their picture by shaking his hand.  

“Hey, listen man,” Eddie started when another came up to him, “I only have so much time so if you don’t mind…” He felt he got lucky when the man understood.  

But good barely lasts long.  

Eddie turned around, looking you dead in the eye and you could see the drain it had on him. People were badgering when it came to seeing someone remotely well known. They were a new band, growing every year. It would only get worse the more popular they became.  

He made his way back over to the bar a couple steps away. His one arm resumed its place beside you and the other reached around you from the other side. For a moment, he had caged you into the bar and the courage and confidence you had always had didn’t waver. Your heart was beating so fast.  

He pulled back just a little, returning his arm in front of him and you realized he grabbed his beer.  

But he smirked. He was teasing you.  

“Blue Moon, huh?” He asked, savoring the taste of it on his tongue, licking the top of his lip as he observed the cup.  

“Well if I knew it was on the house…” you told him as a joke. He smiled and it met his eyes, those lines defined on his face.  

“You can blame Steve for not telling you. I told him it was free.”  

You hummed, looking behind him as that same group of girls remained.  

“You have some… fans…” you weren’t sure you could call them that. Eddie dipped his head, you heard the defeated sigh and he shuffled his feet, tapping on the bar with his one hand. The unintentional shuffle brought him an inch closer. You could feel the edge of his jacket—the zipper dangling freely—meet your arm.  

“They’re groupies. Well, groupies without the love of music.”  

“Yeah I can tell,” you met one of their eyes briefly before looking away. You couldn’t meet his eyes after the stare that girl was giving you. It made your skin crawl. “Do they always do this?”  

“Some are less aggressive,” he took another drink of his beer. You had forgotten about your own. “But they’re all on the same spectrum I suppose.”  

One of them moved and you didn’t know if you could take being berated for nothing by a girl who just wanted to get in his pants. She hadn’t loved him for years, you did. You grasped the part of his jacket that had been closest to you. Instinctively, he leaned in closer, nearly cocooning you into the small space.  

“How much time do you have?” He glanced at the watch that was on the wrist of the hand with the beer.  

“10 minutes or so. Why?” He searched your face, never missing your lips as he shot his eyes around.  

“Because that girl, the one with the blonde hair and yellow headband is coming over here and gave me the goddamn death glare when I looked at her.”  

Eddie’s hair fell from his shoulder and hung beside him. You could feel the edges of it meet the side of your face.  

“You have a dressing room or something…? I don’t know what kind of things bars have,” you were holding onto him so tightly.  

“Yeah they gave us a room…” he put his beer on the bar and stood up straight. He held out his hand to you.  

Six years. Six years you had waited for him to hold out his hand to you in more than a friendly way. There was something about the air, the tension you felt when he looked at you that told you this was the moment you had been waiting for.  

“Come on,” he tipped his head toward the back of the venue. You grabbed his hand without a second thought.  

You made it halfway. His hand had covered yours, holding on tightly and occasionally swiping his thumb across your fingers in comfort. You could see some of the people looking. You pretended they weren’t whispering about you. All you were thinking about was the perfect way his hand encapsulated yours when you were jerked to the side and his grasp broke.  

“Wh—“ he didn’t take two steps to know you were gone and at once turned around to see that girl with the yellow headband was closer to him than you were. You were apologizing to a table of fans as one of their cups had tipped over, the liquid dripping onto the floor onto your shoes.  

“What the fuck?” He barely whispered as he watched the scene before him. Eddie walked back to you, trying to avoid the girl when she cut in front of his path.  

She gave a big, cheesy smile, “you gotta minute?” Her gum popped in her mouth.  

“Wh—no, no, I don’t have a minute…” he brushed her aside and went to you, assuring the table they hadn’t done anything wrong.  

“I’m sorry, God,” you were apologetic for something you didn’t have control over, “I didn’t mean to do that. Let me get you—“  

“It’s on the house, guys, just tell them I said so,” Eddie grabbed your hand and pulled you away from the table before they could wrap their heads around what happened.  

The girl was still standing there as you passed again and she tried to grab your arm. However, Eddie was more than prepared to defend you—the only person he’d be willing to make a scene for. He pulled you close, turning to point a finger accusingly at the blonde-haired woman with a sneer.  

“Don’t fucking touch her! If I see you near her again I will throw you out myself, got it?”  

The girl was speechless and so were you, for far different reasons nonetheless.  

“Got it!?” He yelled at her and the people chatting in the area around you quieted. You put one of your hands on his stomach as the other one was clutched in his own. Your palm spread; it was telling her he was already taken.  

“Come on, let’s go,” you urged him. And because he knew it was the right thing to do, he led you behind a brown wooden door and the bright, fluorescent lights of the hallway to the dressing rooms was never so greatly welcomed. 

Eddie didn’t know how one moment years in the making could change the course of his personal life.  

From the time he left Hawkins with Corroded Coffin to make it big, his mind was jumbled; lost in differing aspects from friends he had been leaving behind and a system of systemic poverty that had failed him. Somewhere inside of The Hideout Eddie felt his luck shifting. Maybe it was your hand in his being strung along the bright hallway, or maybe it was the fact he had grown into his confidence and could stick up for himself and you without fear of retaliation because he was no longer at the bottom of the food chain.  

It was a redemption of sorts.  

“Eddie, Eddie,” he heard his name being called but blood was pounding in his ears. He couldn’t believe the audacity of people when they didn’t have a relation or acquaintanceship with someone. You see people on TV or hear them on the radio and suddenly, it’s as if they’re not truly a person anymore. It was the downside, the absolute bottom of the barrel feeling, when it came to pursuing his dreams.  

“Hey, hey, Eddie, wait a second,” your voice was firmer, a light pull back on the grip he had on your hand, and he stopped. He had always been good at keeping others’ comfort at the top of his list and he wasn’t going to stop just because he was a bit angry.  

“Just wait,” you breathed, finally catching up to him and staying so close.  

“It’s fine, okay?” You were concerned. He could see it in your face. This isn’t how he planned to see you again. In fact, he had been so nervous he smoked two blunts instead of one before the show. He was surprised that it didn’t mellow him out more.  

“I’m fine, you’re fine. Just let it go.”  

“She had no right to touch you like that,” if your voice had been firm, his was unmoving. It was steadfast in leveled anger that boundaries were breeched and it could have gone a lot worse than it had.  

“She didn’t hurt me if that’s what you want to hear.”  

Eddie didn’t know what he wanted to hear. He wanted to hear that you were fine; he wanted to hear that you were happy; he wanted to hear that what he did was fucking hot and maybe, just maybe you would give him a chance if he took it. Eddie Munson wanted to hear the reason why you hadn’t reached out to him for six goddamn years while life continued to turn.  

He had so many question and he had been overthinking them for days.  

He ran a hand through his frizzy waves and held them intertwined above his head.  

“Steve told me you moved to Indy to find me.”  

If you were a ghost, now was the time to disappear.  

“Is that true?”  

You put your hands on your hips and looked anywhere but him.  

“Y/n, if it’s not true just say so and you can go back to them but if it’s not, tell me. Please.” You never thought Eddie would be one to beg. But here he was, standing in front of you, begging, for you to tell him.  

The dance between you two had been a long and winding road. Stolen glances, touches that lasted too long, and the palpable tension your friends felt was enough to shoot off fireworks between you. It was electric, sizzling, majestic. There wasn’t a day that you didn’t think about what he was doing, who he might be with—and it was no surprise that Eddie often wondered the same of you.  

“Is that why you asked about me on the phone? Because you thought I had followed you out there?”  

“No,” he shook his head, dropping his hands.  

“I asked because I wanted to know if you had a reason for never contacting me. I thought we were friends, at least friends who would keep in touch.”  

“I never knew what to say,” you admitted as your head dropped to glance at the floor. Beer was still shining up at you on your glossy shoes. “I feel like there was almost too much that no words would come out.”  

Eddie nodded—knowing well you had not answered his question. “Did you think I wouldn’t remember you or somethin’? I can tell you that would never happen.” He laughed at the thought.  

“That wasn’t it… I don’t really know how to explain it,” you knew exactly how to explain it.  

‘Eddie, I’ve been in love with you for years and I was afraid you had moved on to other women because they were your style.’  

‘Eddie, I would do anything for you but I’m scared of my feelings not being validated.’  

“Well, you’re here now,” he proposed with a rather hopeful look on his face, “you still smoke or is that too metal for you now?” 

“How could I? My dealer ran off to be a superstar.”  

“Well,  I’m here now and got a bag of weed in my case. What do you say to that?”  

“I say it’s not going to smoke itself.”  

The dressing room was small. Littered with equipment and travel bags. A dirty mirror hung on the furthest wall from the door and each member of the band was crammed inside. Eddie opened the door with a push as an unknown stickiness had caught the seal. Each guy looked up at the intruder.  

“Hey, we were looking for you,” Jeff said and reached for water on the table. “We go back on in five.”  

Eddie nodded mindlessly as he opened the door further to let you slip under his arm and into the room. The two that you had gone to high school with smiled widely––having known that Eddie was absolutely soaring on the inside. The band had found two other members you didn’t know after they had escaped the grasp of Hawkins’ hell and they sat chatting on a sofa.  

“You’re shitting me right now!” Gareth said, getting up from his stool and grabbing his glass that sat on the table beside Jeff. “I thought you said she wasn’t coming!”  

He had talked about you. Recently. 

“I said I wasn’t sure!” Eddie corrected him and led you to the corner where he stored his things. You hopped onto the vanity and felt like a spotlight was on you from the bulb of lights. “Besides, it’s none of your business anyway,” Eddie occupied himself searching through one of his cases for the weed.  

“We go on in five minutes, man. Did you not hear Jeff?”  

“I heard you, I heard you,” Eddie mumbled and grasped a tin with certain fingers. It was an old snuff can that had become so worn down that the branding was gone. Eddie opened the lid and pulled out one of the rolled joints he had stored inside. He lifted it to his lips before turning back to Gareth.  

He took a second, glancing over at you as you picked at your nail polish and walked over to Jeff and Gareth instead. The other two outside of the circle knew not to get in between the lifelong friends. You couldn’t hear their mumbles but Eddie was rather animated in his movements.  

“Listen, I just need like… a half hour. Give me a half hour and I’ll owe you big time. Just give me this.”  

The two wanted to argue. They wanted to be a band that didn’t have members who caused issues but they saw the look in Eddie’s eyes. They knew how much he liked you and with how much he talked about you, they couldn’t not give him the chance. The band came to Hawkins once every year and who knows if Eddie would get the chance again.  

Jeff checked his watch. They had to go.  

“Half hour. If you’re not out there I will come and get you, I don’t care what situation you’re in.”  

Eddie patted them both on the back.  

“Shane, Mickey,” Jeff called over to the other two, “let’s go. Eddie needs a minute.”  

And Eddie watched them leave the room with the blunt still hanging out of his mouth. When he turned back to you, the air changed too.  

You sat, cross legged and leaning on top of the vanity like a muse. Sparkly dress with shiny lips and glinting eyes, it was intoxicating. He grabbed the stool Jeff was sitting on and placed it in front of you—just close enough where his knees tapped your leg as he spread out; unashamed that he was man-spreading right where you slotted between him. He drew a lighter from his jacket and lit the blunt. With a puff he passed it to you.  

“They willingly accepted your disappearance?” You questioned, blowing smoke off to the side in the most glamorous way he had ever seen.  

“Only for a bargain. You know them… always looking for a steal…” he watched your lips purse around the stick—plump and inviting. “Besides, they had a good enough conscious to let this one slide.”  

“Why? Because it’s just silly ol’ me?” You fluttered your eyelashes, smiling at him with perfect poise before passing back the blunt. His fingers grazed yours.  

“It’s never just ‘silly ol’ you’” he repeated, “you fuckin’… light up the room when you walk in. So, no.”  

You tried to hide your smile, but it was hard when he was so blatant.  

“You know I was nervous about tonight,” you admitted sheepishly, “felt like you had forgotten about us now that you made a name for yourself.”  

“I told you that would never happen.”  

“Yeah, but the mind has a funny way of playing tricks on us like that.”  

“There could be a million people in a room, and I’d still find you right away, Y/n,” Eddie’s eyes were filled with something you couldn’t quite place. Kindness and sincerity aside, the man was not quiet about his wants or needs. You just hadn’t allowed yourself to accept them because you were scared about letting someone in. Someone that you liked a lot and someone you knew could make you happy.  

Happiness made people vulnerable. Vulnerable people got hurt.  

“So you did ask about me? Wanted to know what I was up to?” You inquired.  

“Did you move to the city for me?” He asked instead.  

“It was part of it, yeah.” It was the answer he wanted.  

“Why didn’t you call?”  

You laughed, taking the blunt back, and taking a minute to think of a comprehensive answer. “I didn’t call because I was scared of being one of them,” you pointed to the door and he understood that you were referencing those girls.  

“They hounded you like you were Bruce Springsteen…how was I supposed to compete with that or be something different?”  

If he hadn’t known for certain that you held a candle for him as he did you, he did now. He was relieved in a sense.  

“I think it’s funny,” he watched as you unfolded your legs, the dress hiking up in the slightest as you moved forward on the vanity. He also felt the choice to man-spread before you were beginning to be a mistake if anything went wrong. He wouldn’t be able to hide anything. “That you’d think you would be like them… you’re nothing like them.”  

“And what am I like?”  

Your confidence had returned. A flirtatious smile played at your lips when you swung your leg just enough to let the outline of your shoe rub against his pants. The blunt was still burning between your fingertips.  

Eddie knew it was now or never. So he let loose too.  

“What are you like?” He looked inquisitively at you. A finger tapping on his chin as if he was deep in thought for a moment. “I think the obvious is smart and pretty… but not school girl kind of pretty.”  

“No?”  

“No…” he shook his head, “the pretty that doesn’t think she is. The kind that is too kind to accept a compliment but should know she’s more than that.”  

“More than pretty?” Your face was hot. You could feel the fire burning within you. Eddie Munson calling you pretty as he spread before you and shared a blunt while the beginnings of his bands second set began to shake the room.  

“Beautiful.”  

“Beautiful?”  

“Gorgeous.”  

“Gorgeous?”  

You repeated the words slowly. He couldn’t help the smile on his own face. His cheeks were red, the hands folded in his lap were sweaty but he would never admit that.  

“The mostest.” You laughed at his grammar. It was technically true, it just sounded awkward. 

“Fucking beautiful.”  

You didn’t repeat that.  

“You, Y/n, are the most fucking beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life and I’ve thought that for six years.”  

“Six?”  

“Since you jumped into the water at Lover’s Lake to save Steve.”  

God, it felt like yesterday.  

“And do you know what?” He questioned, not expecting you to respond, “I have thought about you ever single day since.”  

“Every day?”  

“Each one. And when I was on stage, I looked. Hoping maybe you’d show up one day. I thought about you when I was alone… when I had company…”  

“You’re a pervert, Eddie Munson,” You laughed, he smiled.  

“Well, can you blame a guy? Look at you.” The way his eyes trailed. He was hunting and you were perfect prey.  

“I can’t really… but you can.” Your bottom lip passed through your teeth quickly—barely grazing it as the top of your shoe ran along the inside of his leg. He was fucked.  

“I can. I do.”  

“Why has it taken this long to admit it?”  

“Time wasn’t always on our side…” he sucked in a breath when you put the blunt out right on the counter top. It made a sickening sizzle, burning black onto its white finish. He would probably be charged for that but in the moment he didn’t care.  

“But we’re here now…” you proposed. You moved forward again, barely touching him until you got to your feet and stood in front of him. “Time can stand still for a little while…”  

You were waiting on him to make the move.  

He stood from the stool, pushing it backwards with his foot. He was close again, just as he had been at the bar but this time there wasn’t anything stopping him. No one in his way and for the remaining minutes he had been granted, he had only you.  

Eddie’s hands cupped your face.  

“You’d never be one of them, baby,” you just about fell over, “you’ve always been my number one girl.”  

“And does that come with a prize?”  

“Only the best.”  

His eyes never left your lips as he caressed your face gently, savoring the moment before both of your bodies gave into what they had been craving for half a decade. Eddie’s breath was hot, already staggered as he breathed in one last time before pulled your face to his and planting his lips to yours. You imagined it was what heaven had felt like if something like that existed. He tasted like beer and weed; lips a little chapped from days on the road but a pillow compared to others. He cradled your face with care—almost afraid that if he had gone in too hard the first time it would all be a dream and disappear.  

When he felt your hands creep onto his forearms, he knew he wasn’t dreaming. It was real. You were here, kissing him back in a dingy dressing room at The Hideout on a Tuesday evening. The walls rattled with a metal sound.  

Eddie moved his hands from your face to cradle the back of your head as he pushed himself further into you. Another hand wrapping around your waist tightly. You could feel him clutching onto the fabric of your dress, his fingers digging into the skin of your hip. With nothing to grab onto now, you enveloped his shoulders with your arms and tangled your hands into his hair.  

There was nothing holding him back, nor you, in that room. His hands wandered and groped, he sounded small grunts when you rubbed up against him just right or tugged on his hair just enough. You felt him hard against you, telling you without words that what he had said was the truth.  

You wanted this. You wanted it badly.  

The vanity behind you was digging into your lower back, pressing, and pressing with every movement and the world came back to you with the realization someone could walk in, and you weren’t about to stop if Eddie wasn’t.  

“Eddie,” you broke the kiss, murmuring his name as his lips found the sides of your mouth, your chin, following a path down your neck. “Eddie,” you said again with a pant, “someone could walk in.”  

He let go with an audible 'pop' and nudged his nose to your chin before looking at you. He was so close, breathing heavily as his tongue swept over his lips.  

"Yeah…" He huffed, the way his arms caged you in against the counter, "so what?"  

“I’d rather not give them a show if you know what I mean?”  

Eddie acknowledged that with a nod of his head, glancing in the mirror as he peeked around the room for a door that had a lock. The bathroom. The bathroom had a lock. He had found the solution, placing a delicate kiss on your lips—miles different than the one he had started with.  

“Bathroom good?”  

You brushed a piece of his hair back and he just about melted. “Bathroom’s perfect.”  

You weren’t even sure if he had locked the door before he had his hands and lips on you again. You hit the back of the stall hard but it didn’t matter because Eddie Munson was prepared to give you the time of your life in a dirty, more than likely unsanitary, bar bathroom years in the making. He was taking no prisoners in the way he felt you up—hands acting as a way to stake his claim from everything from your breasts to ass and you swallowed what you could take. Each moan he gave, every sound that levied on a whimper from you. It felt natural having him close. Having him give himself to you in the same passion that you were to him.  

When he went back to assaulting your neck—sucking at the skin to where your nails were making crescents on his shoulders through his jacket—you stuttered a breath.  

“I-I met a few girls who said they met you,” you admitted as he bothered not to stop, “they claimed you’re a real… freak when it comes to this kind of thing.”  

He thought you sounded adorable in the most sexy way. Nervous with a tinge of shakiness in your voice. Eddie didn’t care anymore what people thought of him. What girls said or what they tried to claim about him. All he wanted was to know what you thought, what you claimed of him. He had been waiting for that for six years.  

“They said you used handcuffs,” that made him stop.  

"Is there truth to it?" You couldn't take your eyes off his lips and you could sense he was jittery. Like he had 12 cups of coffee. His finger tapped against the side of the stall impatiently. “It’s a little different from the Eddie I know… one who liked D&D and honeycomb cereal.”  

“I still like that cereal,” he laughed. Eddie shifted his head to the side of your face, letting his mouth kiss your ear lobe tenderly. He still loved D&D too.  

"What kind of freak do you want me to be?"  

You tipped your head to the side slightly, running your hands over his chest and feeling the fabric of his rough t-shirt ride upwards.  

"I want," Your hands ran higher and met their position at the base of his neck. Finger nails disappearing beneath his wild hair and running along his nape, "one that will fuck me in this bathroom until I can barely walk… can you do that for me?"  

Eddie was nearly speechless. Nearly.  

“I could fuck you four ways funny and sweetheart,” he ran his tongue over his lips again, pulling back and looking down at yours, “you wouldn’t be walkin’ after the first one.”  

He was so close, his breath hot and brushing against your face. All the water seemingly drained from him as the need for what you were offering, sweet and plump, had become the perfect meal. Eddie’s right hand slid down the stall door to where it could barely graze your dress at the hip.  

You had already told him what you wanted. But he needed permission. He drew himself closer, pressing into you and you felt how hard he was in his pants.  

“You gonna make me wait forever, sweetheart? You gonna tell me what to do?”  

“I told you what I wanted,” your voice was breathy, deep. He could barely stand it. He could cum right there from just knowing he was finally getting the chance to fuck you.  

“You told me what you wanted,” he clarified, grasping your side tightly and taking the second you gasped to stick his head between his other arm and neck. His hot, panting breath on your neck now was all you could think about. 

“You didn’t say I could.”  

“Fuck me, Eddie,” you tilted your head to the side, letting his lips lightly kiss the skin there. You clutched one lapel of his jacket and reached up to intertwine your fingers in his hair with the other, giving him enough order to suck as he had been doing before. “Fuck me the way you played out there tonight. Like it’s your last goddamn night on earth.”  

He still had that wild hair. However, it was no longer in spite or rebellion against the system but a piece of his image. Only a man so engrossed in the sound and space of what it meant to be a metal, hard rock band could pull off the attitude and aura he exuded.  

He lifted up the skirt of your dress to your waist and let his torso hold it in place as he put both hands to your hips and pulled your panties down. Your breathing was staggered, half excited and half anxious to get him inside of you. He gently tapped your knee to lift.  

When he got them off he shoved them in the back pocket of his pants.  

“I’m keepin’ those.” 

The dress had fallen back down but as he rose to his feet, his fingers painted a path to its edge, driving it upwards and this time, there was nothing restricting his path to you.  

“Baby, you been hidin’ this perfect fucking pussy all these years?”  

Fuck. You felt a fire ignite within you. You knew Eddie Munson had a flare for theatrics; that he was eccentric, and maybe a little insane, but the second his hands touched your body—you felt the satanic panic infiltrate your soul.  

“Eddie,” you whined as one of his hands grew closer to your center and the other kept guiding your dress up. “Stop with your goddamn teasing and fuck me.”  

He would never deny a command from a lady like you.  

Eddie let his fingers descend, pressing his lips to your neck then chin as your breathing hitched right at the precipice. His entire hand cupped you with pressure that made your toes curl.  

“Sh-shit…” you gasped. His smile on your neck was rewarding.  

“Shit is right, Y/n,” Eddie’s fingers spread a bit, two fingers threatening to enter while the others pulled apart your folds. His thumb worked to find your clit without guidance of his eyes. All he needed from you was to tell him when and it took him little time.  

You jolted into him, lolling your head into his chest, and breathing deeply and his lips lost their traction on your neck. He could feel your trembling fingers holding onto him. If he had been 16, he would have came in his pants at the sheer desperation you were giving. The music of heavy metal mixing with the sounds of your pleasure were dizzying. Eddie guided two of his fingers into you.  

“Jesus Christ…” you blurted out as your head pulled back from him and went back against the stall. He was watching you with such precision that you felt hot under his gaze. His fingers were moving swiftly, feeling every part of you as he watched your chest heave and face go slack.  

“You’re so fucking wet, sweetheart. God damn.” He pushed his fingers further into you, curling them the best he could to get you there. He wanted to fuck you but couldn’t tear his eyes away from your wanton face. Eddie’s free hand gripped the base of your neck. His thumb running along the length and applying pressure. “So wet for me, huh?”  

Your eyes were clouded with delirium. He had taken you there with a simple touch. You didn’t know how you would last if he truly took the time to worship you. Eddie could send you to an early grave and you’d say ‘thank you for a fantastic time.’ 

“Always for you,” you whimpered carelessly, “I’ll always be for you.”  

“You really—“ he grunted when your hand tangled in his shirt and nicked the necklace he was wearing. It pulled on his neck. “You really want me to fuck you here?” He flicked your bud making you cry out. “Bend you over like the dirty fucking girl you are?”  

You pulled his shirt, the necklace too, and let his body lay against yours. The only feeling of his hand continuing to pleasure you and his hard dick in his pants reminding you that you wanted something more. His forehead met yours and it was soft in the hardness of lust. 

“Bend me over that sink,” you told him, no longer fuzzy with ecstasy, “I’ve thought about you on lonely nights starring at me through a mirror as you fucked me.”  

He swallowed the lump in his throat that formed with your admission.  

“Show me that I’m not one of those girls, Eddie.”  

He didn’t need to romance you to show you that.  

Eddie removed his fingers with no warning and guided you to the sink with a quickness you had only seen in movies. He was strategic and defined, letting your hands grasp the edges of the porcelain sink that stood alone in the flickering bathroom light. You watched him through the mirror concentrate on undoing his belt, zipping down his pants and pulling himself out of his black jeans. For a second, you wished you had turned around. Wanting to see him hard and leaking for you but you also knew there was no way this was a one and done deal.  

Eddie would wine and dine you; he would take you to a physical bed and make love to you before he’d leave this planet.  

And he still had on his leather jacket.  

“You sure you’re ready for this, baby?” He asked, meeting your gaze in the mirror. “We only got so much time so I’m not going slow.”  

“Yeah, I’m sure,” your fingers had gone taut against the sink; gripping tightly and trying to support yourself as your excitement made you shake. No man had ever had the same effect on you.  

“You tell me to stop and I will, got it?”  

And there were few men confident enough in their abilities to extend kindness in the heat of the moment.  

“Yeah, I got it,” you barely got that out because he grabbed his cock with one of his hands, leaning over you to hold your hand down on the sink—his larger hand covering yours almost completely. He ran the head over your folds and you felt your legs shake.  

“All right then, let me fuck you like I’ve been waiting my whole life to.”  

And he was right, he didn’t stop. Eddie pounded hard and fast into you as if it was exactly that. He hit every part of you, stretching and filling you with a sweet sensation of adrenaline laced possessiveness that had grown throughout the evening. Every time he glanced at the table, the moment he saw you at the bar, the way you held onto his hand as he carried you away from the crowds just to have a second to unwind everything he had felt for you. As he gripped your hip and remained holding your hand against the sink, you could barely say a word for what he was completing in you.  

It was like a puzzle piece finding its home.  

“Motherfucker…” Eddie husked as he picked up the pace, watching himself disappear within your glistening cunt every time he thrusted back and forth. He wasn’t even letting you do much work at this point. He had taken every ounce of himself and poured it into what he had been waiting to do. Eddie Munson was beating to the course of his own drum, not the ones that rattled the walls and swelled through the air ducts to sound off the tile in the bathroom.  

You kept your eyes on him through the mirror even if the pleasure threatened to close them. He was in a zone; concentrated and using his body the best way he knew how.  

“Fuck–” He let go of your hand and slotted it in between you down your front. He brought his middle finger back down to your clit and your breath hitched, stuck inside of your throat. Your fingers were unstable. The grip on the sink wavering with every pounding step he made and the sounds of your wet slick combining with his force was an epiphany.  

You looked again in the mirror. Eddie’s forehead was resting on the skin of your shoulder as he continued to thrust.  

“Eddie,” you breathed out, “look at me.”  

Your words were jumbled. You didn’t know if it came out that way or if you just heard the voice in your head say it correctly, but he didn’t respond.  

“Eddie,” you tried again, “look at me.”  

Look at you–he did. He had. For four goddamn years because that's all he could do was look. Staring like a loser school boy who was infatuated with his unattainable teacher but in reality, the two of you were neither. Just a freak and a prep. The popular girl who was loud and funny but could never spare a glance to him until you had. Until circumstances beyond his imagination had brought him a group of friends that supported him, saved him, from the secrets Hawkins hides. 

His brown eyes blown wide and full, a bead of sweat dripping down his forehead as your glinted on your collarbones and the part of your chest he could see.  

“You’re so fucking perfect, Y/n...” He mumbled and laid a kiss on your shoulder. His eyes met yours in the mirror and he was close. The fantasy of the moment he had been waiting for beginning to catch up with him, the ideas you had planted in your mind for days reeling in reality. But you didn’t come here to get fucked and finish by looking at him in the mirror.  

“Turn me over,” you panted quickly, “I’m close.”  

He did as he was told. His cock slipping out for a second as he gripped both sides of your hips and turned you around. In any other situation, he may have been embarrassed about how much he was worked up, but this wasn’t a regular occurrence. This was an endgame for him. Some final quest that would lead his life beyond it with pride and a feeling of content. This was his one shot as much as it was yours. He guided himself back in, feeling you clench around him and lifted one of your legs to wrap around him. Eddie held it with his hand to help ease the strain.  

“I don’t want this to be a one-time thing,” you managed to get out with labored words. Your shaking hand cupping his face as he brought it close to you. Intimacy was no longer divided between a mirror. This was as close to making magic as it could get in a place like this.  

“It won’t be,” he reassured you with a kiss, “I’m not letting you go again, baby.”  

The goddamn pet names. You’d never tire of it.  

He felt you clench around him again, your face fighting the resolution with everything you had left because you didn’t want it to end.  

“Come on, baby,” he murmured against your lips, “come for me, sweetheart, come for me.”  

Eddie put his hand on your neck again, relishing the way your eyes fluttered closed as his lips egged you on with kisses and his hand with a bit of pressure. He would have time to show you what else he could do; to find new things together but right then, all he wanted to see was you fall apart by his own doing.  

A few more thrusts and he had sent you there.  

He had sent you to euphoria–the dazzling electric dance of fire that had been sitting, waiting to be awakened. Your eyes were shut tightly, hands gripping his jacket, and your mouth was agape, a strangled sound of pleasure finding its way out as he followed through with his actions as your orgasm had reached its top. Eddie wished he had a camera because there was no one else who could beat the way your orgasm made him feel.  

He was so lost in the moment staring at you that he had reached his own in a subsequent fashion. You heard him moan, something so many men had been conscious not to do because it was vulnerable, but you grasped him harder as he stilled. You were both breathing so heavily that you couldn’t hear anything else.  

All either of you did was stare at each other––knowing that what had occurred changed the course of not only the evening, but your lives as they were.  

“Holy shit,” Eddie whispered, feeling himself soften inside of you as your fingertips lightly ran through his hair.  

The music from his band was still thundering.  

“Yeah...” you repeated, “holy shit.”  

And he smiled, so you did too.  

“They’ll come looking for me any second,” he said knowingly. Jeff and Gareth let him have his time, but he still needed to play. He didn’t want to leave.  

You brushed his bangs away from his face gently. “Well, a band always needs their star...”  

You thought he was a star. A star.  

“Well, a man needs his muse too.”  

“His muse will be out there... cheering him on from a booth with both of their friends.”  

Eddie bit his lip, not wanting to go but knowing that he had to. He nodded, almost warning you that he was going to pull out and it still hadn’t hit either of you that a condom had gone forgotten. He tried to ignore the small wince you let out when he eventually did, stuffing himself back into his pants as you pulled your dress down and turned to face the mirror again.  

“Sorry,” he said both in response to the soreness he’s sure you felt, but also for the marks he had left on the skin exposed due to the design of your dress. You examined them in the mirror.  

“Here,” Eddie pulled off his jacket and was thankful he did so because he was sweltering in it, “take it and when the shows over, you come back, and I’ll take you for a drink.”  

A date of sorts.  

“You sure?” You caught his eyes in the mirror as he opened the jacket, placing it on your shoulders and holding his hands there.  

“There’s no one else I’d rather see wearing it out there.”  

“I don’t know if I could pull it off as well as you,” you laughed, your head shaking at the idea of you–someone who had never worn a leather jacket–wearing his. “I don’t know if I’m the type.”  

“Of course, you are,” Eddie moved to the side of the sink, letting your hands turn on the faucet and let the water run, “you’re a rock star’s girl so I need you to show it off. Besides...” he trailed off, hearing the door to the dressing room open beyond the bathrooms, “you could wear nothing and be the best dressed person in there.”  

A knock sounded at the door, followed by a wiggle of the handle but thankfully, Eddie did lock the door.  

“Eddie?” it was Jeff, “Time’s up, man. I know you wanna, well, you know...” he sounded embarrassed, “but they know you’re missing.”  

“Be out in a second!” Eddie shouted through the door and the handle went still again.  

“You should go,” you pumped soap into your hand once the water was warm, “you have fans waiting.”  

“Promise me you’ll wear it?” His eyes were hopeful. He had finally snagged the girl of his dreams. He didn’t need to define it to know you were committed too. “Please?”  

“I’m wearing it already, aren’t I?” You smiled at him, nodding your head to the door. “Go.”  

He started off toward the door and just when he was about to unlock it, he turned around, meeting your eyes in the mirror and coming straight back to you. His hands grabbed your face and pulled you to him, his lips meeting yours in a searing kiss. It had been the lingering feelings of love unspoken that had told him to do it. He pulled away first.  

“I’ll be looking for you out there.”  

“I’ll be watching.”  

The bar was as you had left it.  

Eddie made it to the stage by the time you had cleaned yourself up and became satisfied that your look was a bit different to the one you had begun the night with. The music was still loud, the people were still excited, and the two booths remained filled with your friends. You stopped at the bar on your way back for a glass of water and the same woman as before served you.  

There were still a hundred bodies lingering around the space, but a single open gap led you to her. She smiled at you.  

“You left your beer on the bar,” she said as her eyes narrowed, looking at the jacket you wore. You played with the cuffs as the people around you listened to the music. “Want another?”  

“No,” you shook your head, “just water please.”  

She nodded her head and grabbed a glass before filling it with ice.  

“Just friends, huh?”  

You shrugged, a small smile playing on your face.  

“Maybe a bit more than that.”  

The bartender gave you a wink as you left the bar to make your way through the maze of guests. You didn’t mind the water falling onto your hand as the people danced and forced your cup to move, thoughts filled with Eddie and the future of the evening ahead.  

“Hey!” You barely heard their calls, “Y/N! Over here!”  

Dustin’s screeching was the loudest, but you saw Robin standing with Nancy on the booth and their grins were huge. You reached your table and sat beside Steve. Robin and Nancy sat back down but no one said anything. You wouldn’t meet their eyes as you sipped your water. Steve nudged your shoulder twice before you mustered the strength to look at each one of them.  

“That jacket’s new,” Steve commented, and Robin could barely contain her excitement. She hid her mouth behind her hands.  

“It is,” you replied with a curt nod.  

“So are those hickeys,” Jonathan stated, looking around the venue after he said it and his cheeks went red. Nancy slapped his arm.  

“Got anything to say?” Steve inquired.  

“Nope,” you popped the ‘p’ dramatically, “not really.”  

Steve hummed, grinning like the rest of the fools at the table. You looked over at the stage and saw Eddie playing once more, catching him once looking over at the table and he beamed.  

“You know, Steve,” you called out to him but didn’t look at him, “the thing you said in the car, about the bathrooms... you were right.”  

The table erupted in delighted cheers. Steve patted your knee proudly.  

Six years felt like forever, but you knew, looking onto that stage at The Hideout as the man you had been pining over played his heart out, that it was nothing compared to the potential of the future. The clock reset. You were only counting the time starting now... well, the time that started 30 odd minutes ago.  

[issues-is-my-name]

Loser

Summary: You were never too sure what to make of Eddie Munson but when he finds you crying under the bleachers, the turmoil of not fitting into your new school becoming too much for you, you discover a different side of Eddie.

Word Count: 3.1k

Disclaimer: Reader identifies as female and goes by she/her pronouns! also I tried to make some D and D references but idk if it makes sense lol

Hugging your knees, you shut your eyes tight and remind yourself that the school day is nearly over. You only have to get through the rest of lunch and then a few afternoon classes until you can finally go home and relax.

Sitting under the bleachers for lunch has become a normality to you, avoiding the terrors of the cafeteria and instead spending your time alone.

Although you always found it hard to make friends, you convinced yourself that in a new school, it’d be easier and that people would be more welcoming. But moving to a new town halfway through the school year didn’t help and none of the students seemed interested in getting to know the new girl. 

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[issues-is-my-name]

won’t let go | eddie munson

word count: 853

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: you stay by eddie’s side in the hospital while he recovers from the events that happened in the upside down

warnings: fluff, light angst, mentions of death, light swearing, hurt/comfort, possible s4 spoilers, hurt eddie needs its own warning

notes: written based on this and this request that i combined cause they were a little similar in idea! it’s short but sweet so i hope you like it. as always, not edited so all my mistakes are my own

library

stranger things bookshelf

Shifting in the uncomfortable hospital chair, you leaned forward, placing your elbows on your thighs as you covered your face with your hands. The handcuffs secured around his wrists, trapping him to the bed making you sick.

The second you brought him to the hospital, after pulling him out of the Upside Down, they stuck cuffs on him. They stuck cuffs on him like he was gonna magically escape despite being clearly severely wounded. You argued that with the police but they didn’t care, Eddie was branded as a murderer in their minds.

They believed he was some satanic cult leader that went around breaking kids’ bones and taking out their eyes when all he did was play Dungeon and Dragons; and occasionally sell drugs but that isn’t the point. This town hated him for playing a game and looking different than they did. They called him a freak for how he expressed himself and the things he did, it wasn’t fair. Not after he almost died for this stupid town that hated him and thought of him as nothing but a freak and a murder.

Keep reading

[issues-is-my-name]

[issues-is-my-name]

girls dont even read posts anymore they just see my chemical romance and hit reblog

[issues-is-my-name]

As bad as that wig is, I love long haired Jacob

[issues-is-my-name]

My muse

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Midnight Sun is happening and the amount of excitement I have is to much my hearts gonna explode I’m so ready I’m-

[issues-is-my-name]

If only it were this easy

[issues-is-my-name]

Me after seeing MCR re-unite.

[issues-is-my-name]

it’s Gone Girl “Cool Girl” movie script on my shirt !

[issues-is-my-name]

When someone is trying to talk to me with headphones in.

[issues-is-my-name]

[issues-is-my-name]

[issues-is-my-name]

twitter:

twilight fans:

[issues-is-my-name]

If you were wondering how my day was going, which you weren’t, the best thing that’s happened is remembering I didn’t drink all my soda from earlier. I think that sums it up.