#Eddie x you

[trashmouth-richie]

𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞’𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞

꧁ eddie x female reader

a multi chapter mini series— based on thoroughfare by ethel cain

listen here (apple music) + here (spotify)

summary: jumping into his truck at seventeen, eddie takes a journey in hopes to find love. years pass with no such luck, along the way he stumbles across you, a timid drifter who reluctantly agrees to join him, heading west. you’ve never trusted men, but something in those kind, deep colored coffee eyes stirs up a feeling you’ve never felt before. strangers to lovers trope, one bed trope.

triggers: 18+ smut

author’s note: no upside down, eddie was raised by his mom and dad in florida and they were in love.

The wet shell of a sunflower seed stuck to the tip of your finger. Slicked with salted spit and the tart bite of cherry chapstick, you hung your hand out of the passenger window, waiting for the western wind to blow the husk from your finger.

His thumb rubs against the rough edges of the flint wheel of his zippo, the sweet tang of tobacco invading your nose as the flame sparks leaving a burning cherry on the white paper. A slight chap to his lips from too much sun yesterday at the motel pool in BullHead City, you had supposed. Still, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. The only time you could was when his eyes caught yours, daring you to look away.

The way he stared at you with a smirk twisted on his mouth took every bit of breath from your lungs. Holding your gaze in a cozy embrace with the deep warmth of his russet colored eyes until you finally forced yours to break away and look out the window instead. Bottom lip bit between your lips as a growing heat travels over the apples of your cheeks.

If you would have looked back at him you’d have noticed the way he licked his lips as he watched you sigh as if you hadn’t been breathing. Snapping another sunflower seed between your teeth before putting them on the crest of your lips to put them out of the window— he had your movements memorized. Each more tantalizing than the next.

Neither of you were able to deny the tension between you lately, letting it build and fester, aching for relief in the form of pleasure.

The last eight weeks had started to wear heavy on your chest, and you found yourself daydreaming about the beginning of this adventure, like a record on an endless spin to your favorite song.

Not a single radio station would come in wherever the hell it was in Texas he was right now. With every crank of the tuning dial, only the agonizing noise of static strained through the speakers to keep him company as he drove along this highway that never seemed to end.

He cursed himself for not buying a map at the gas station he filled the truck up at this morning. His gut instinct usually guided him on which roads to take, and today was no different. Only today felt like he was pulled by something else, something deeper within himself.

The sky was a mix of cyan and cotton clouds, already hot for May, he was just about to give up on the radio before he popped over a hill and an oldies station came in clear as could be. And something else came into view, plenty far away yet.

Hot wind whipped at your shirt, providing next to nothing for comfort as you trudged along the broken asphalt. You now understood why this place was called the Lone Star State, because you haven’t seen a damn soul in miles. For today, you didn’t mind the loneliness. Leaving home, years ago, you didn’t have a destination in mind, only the knowledge that you needed to get the hell out.

Whatever highway you were on looked to be deserted. As if the state built a multi-laned monstrosity elsewhere and gave up on this slow, lonely stretch, leaving it to the elements. Prairie grass poked through the splintered road, tumbleweeds swayed in the ditches, collecting and tangling as one like a tawny bundle of barbed wire.

Looking behind you, a vehicle showed in the distance like a wavy mirage in the desert. You had half a thought to stick your thumb out and catch a ride to the nearest bus station, but when the vehicle got closer your conscience took over, and anxiety thumped in your chest.

Please don’t stop, please please.

The engine hummed to a lower gear, and you automatically put a hand on the pistol at your waistband. Moving further over to the side of the road where whoever was driving could see that you weren’t interested in their good deed, you kept your head down and kept walking.

Tires slowed and you went into a small panic, wishing you had something sharp to hold between your fingers, but the barren highway offered no such vice.

You heard faint music as the vehicle got closer, crawling almost to a stop as you quickened your steps hoping they would just keep going and leave you be.

“Pretty hot out today… need a lift?”

The voice felt like velvet on your skin, a warmth you’d never known. Endearingly charming, no southern twang like someone from Texas would have. You ignored him, letting the crunch of gravel on your worn boots answer instead.

You had never been given the luxury to trust someone, and you’d be damned if you were gonna start today with some stranger on the side of the road. Heart rate kicking up, you all but bolted to avoid him.

“Baby don’t run, I’ll take you anywhere,” his drawl wrapped around you like a vice, soft and pillowy, and finally your curiosity got the better of you, as you came to a halt. You wanted to look this asshole in the eyes and flash him the pistol you kept, maybe fire a warning shot over the hood of his truck so he’d get the message. That no, in fact you did not need a ride, not from him.

Stopping so his passenger window lined up with you in the center you eyed the only other beating heart on the side of the road.

His hair was past his shoulders, brown and wavy, more than likely frizzy in high humidity. Eyes that were shaped like Bambi’s colored like a bottomless cup of coffee without creamer. His nose sat with a fading sunburn painting along his cheeks, each dwelling a poked dimple in the center. And you swore the key to Heaven was buried in his smile.

When he spoke it was clear that his intentions weren’t to cause you any harm. Minutes ticked by as he waited for your answer.

“Hey, do you wanna see the West with me?”

It was a simple question asked from the quirked mouth of a guy you’d never met before, you would have remembered those eyes in any setting. He leaned an elbow out his window as he threw the truck in park, twisting in his seat to face you a little more. A cigarette dangling from his large hand.

The butter colored sun shone against his caramel curls like a breakfast roll full of sticky sugar, the same light changing his eyes into a whiskey auburn.

He was a complete stranger, but what was even stranger was your one word answer that spread that million dollar grin further onto his face than you thought humanly possible.

You moved your hand from that handle of the gun in your tattered jeans, bearing more holes than actual threads of denim. It was meant for situations just like this, and you had nabbed it from your dad right before you walked out the front door for the very last time.

Instinct told you to run, but something in those dark eyes brought you a wave of calm, whispering out as if you’d known him for years. Your boots had already blistered your heels from walking this far, so what the hell?

Pressing a thumb into the release of the door handle, you swung yourself and your knitted bag into the moth-bitten navajo rug that covered the seat.

His smile didn’t fade, never so much as creased into a frown as he waited for you to get situated. Before he put his truck into drive he explained where he was going.

He was making the grand gesture of looking for love like the kind he grew up watching with his own mom and dad. Explaining that love like that was out there waiting for him, and he was determined to find it, no matter the distance.

Suspicion jumped to your brow, and you tried to stifle the scowl on your lip. “What?” he chirped, a little twist to his lips, “don’t believe in stuff like that?”

This bastard clearly didn’t know heartache the way you were practically related to it. You sigh lazily before looking over at him. Trying not to break his dreams before he even had the chance to realize what a waste of time it was, you simply murmur, “honey, love’s never meant much to me, but I’ll come with you if you’re sure that’s what you need.”

After years of living and growing without being loved, it had become almost useless, something heard in songs or read in books, surely it wasn’t real. But hell, you’d humor this man whose smile danced like a western sunset against a salty ocean breeze, what was the worst that could happen?

A large calloused hand reached across the cab of the truck, and you shook it with a small grin as his voice rubbed like silk across your soul, “I’m Eddie.”

And so it began, the journey to find a love daring to be something greater than anything he’d ever known, hell bent and determined it was out there, wherever that may be.

He had asked about your life. Never pushing when your answers were too short, or ended the conversation entirely. Letting you have your space, he built a trust between the two of you that you weren’t sure about at first.

The roads were desolate, and you couldn’t imagine walking along them alone. You thanked whoever cared that your thoroughfare crossed into his, almost as if destiny had placed you there. Knowing you needed a friend after leaving the only thing you’d ever known and not having a single soul to rely on.

But as time went by, you realized just how much you could rely on him.

That first day, he drove until the windshield bled to ink. Stars dotted across the sky once the sun went to rest, and he encouraged you to follow suit, pulling a hooded sweatshirt from behind his seat and tossing it towards you. Your hesitation told him all he needed to know, that the uncertainty of him was rooted deep. Too deep for you to let your guard down around him.

That pearl handle poked out from your hip and his kind eyes met the scared look in yours. He rubs his lips together before he speaks calmly, “you uhm,” he looks over at you to show how serious this was to him, even if you couldn’t see it in the dark, “you don’t have to worry about using that with me… I’m not that kind of guy.”

His innocence spoke through his eyes in words he hadn’t said, showing you that he wasn’t lying, that you could trust him. You took a deep breath, wondering if you were insane for feeling comfortable with a guy you just met, but it wasn’t long before you whisper, “okay.”

When you snuck a peek over at him, his face was lit by the dim lights of the dash, a smirk nestled on his lips, cheeks welled with the deepest dimples you’d ever seen, and your shoulders eased for the first time since hopping in.

Neither of you spoke for the rest of the night. Your head resting on the window, his sweatshirt rolled under your neck as you fell into a sleep so tender and warm you felt like a baby being lulled to bed as he sang along to the radio.

The heat from the window warmed your cheek when you woke, leaving a less than glamourous mark. Letting out an embarrassingly long yawn, you stretch your arms above your head, feeling your back crack into submission.

“Shit, ‘m sorry, how long did I sleep?” you ask, covering your mouth again from another yawn.

Eddie smiled tiredly, his hair was wrapped into a bun at the base of his neck, sunglasses topping his nose, pushing up from his cheeks as he grins, “don’t apologize for sleeping when you’re tired,” he said, shrugging, “besides, you probably would’ve woken up if I crashed.”

A chuckle hits your dry throat and you cough, “where are we?”

“Still in Texas believe it or not,” he groans, turning it into a long yawn, holding a hand to his mouth, swallowing a bit, “I hoped we could’ve made it to New Mexico before I pulled over but I’m starting to think that ain’t gonna happen.”

You figured he would have stopped to sleep at some point in the night, even if it was just for a few hours. Guilt throttled you at the thought of him staying up while you were asleep. “I can drive while you take a nap.”

“Nah,” he says with a lazy smile, looking over at you, “not that I care if you drive my truck or not, I just think we could both use some decent sleep, watch a little tv, eat, plus… I need a shower.”

Taking a whore’s bath in the gas station sinks had kept you clean, but you almost cried outright at the thought of water, cold or hot you couldn’t care less, running down the length of your body. But the lack of money burning in your pocket stopped that dream in its tracks.

You had a couple hundred bucks left after selling off your car before leaving home. The cost efficient option would be to drive while he slept. “It’s really not a big deal, I promise I’m a good driver.”

The charm you tried to emanate when pulling out your license to show him that you indeed weren’t lying, fell flat as Eddie waved you off, “deodorant only lasts so long before we’ll have to ride with our heads outta the window.”

He laughs in your place as you stare out of the windshield, mind racing over the trouble of being able to afford a motel room.

“C’mon,” he smirks, that same lazy smile stretched on his face, you wondered if he ever got mad. “We survived almost a whole day together, if I was gonna rob you I would’ve done it already.”

“It’s not that,” you say, picking at your nails, fighting the urge to bite them to shreds, “I wasn’t walking because I wanted too…”

Wheels turn in a tired mind as Eddie nearly chokes when he realizes what you meant.

“Don’t worry about it,” he confirms, brushing you off as if it wasn’t a big deal that you’d be bunking with him for free, and when your facial expressions didn’t change, he lowered his voice, and took off his sunglasses, “seriously sweets, you’re doing me a favor keeping me company, ‘m not gonna make you pay for a trip you didn’t plan, okay?”

You sighed, and shook your head yes.

The nearest motel was a hole in the wall type of place. Adhering to the kind of people that either paid by the hour or stayed for weeks at a time. The perk being it was next to a gas station where you refused to let Eddie pay for the armful of snacks he had carried to the counter. Including two hotdogs that you couldn’t be bothered wondering how long they’d been spinning in the warmer.

His boots clunked against the sidewalk as he jumped from the bed of the pickup hauling his duffle bag over his shoulder, the hotel keys wrapped around his forefinger. Outside of you both relieving yourselves on the empty shoulder of the highway last night, this was the first time you’d seen just how tall he was.

He squints in the sun and cocks his head, “bet you a dollar the carpet is orange.”

Room 8 consisted of two full sized beds, a lamp between the two, an arm chair and a small television. A stiff neon brochure for adult channels lay next to the remote, and you scrunched your nose as Eddie pushed it to the floor with the heel of his boot.

Laying out the snacks neatly on the table, you hand him the other hot dog, licking a drop of mustard from your palm. He thanked you, and took a bite consuming almost half of it before dropping onto the bed closest to the door, laying flat on his back.

Having four walls around you gave you a sense of peace you hadn’t been expecting. Slipping off your shoes you wiggled your bare toes and sat on the bed facing away from him, rolling your socks into one another.

“How’s the hotdog?” you asked over your shoulder, moving your bag between the side of your bed and the wall for the bathroom.

A muffled sound comes from the other side of the room as he shovels another bite in, “rubbery, but not too bad for having been made at midnight.”

You snort and swing your legs into the bed. Grabbing the hotdog from the comforter and peeling back the white paper around it, taking a small bite. It was warm, and tasted a hell of a lot better than the moldy ham sandwich you ate yesterday. A satisfied hum leaves your mouth and you giggle.

“Hotdogs for breakfast… don’t think I’ve ever had this before.” You laugh again before taking another bite of the squishy snack. Eddie looks up as he chews the remaining bite, realizing this was the first time he’d ever heard you laugh loud enough for him to hear, what a beautiful sound.

“Stick with me, we’ll have breakfast for dinner, too,” his tongue pokes out to lick a smear of ketchup from the corner of his lip, and he yawns loud and proud.

You cross your feet beneath your legs, a content little smile on your face. “Do I still owe you a dollar if the carpet is also brown and green?”

Your combined laughter echoes across the wood paneling and the pictures of dogs playing poker. The two of you joke about the severely dated room, agreeing that this was probably the place to stay in its prime. But the sheets were clean and that’s about all you could ask for at this point.

Eddie’s eyes were nearly closed as he scrubs large hands down his face, his voice strained, “mind if I shower ‘fore I fall asleep?”

“Not at all,” you say, jumping from the bed and looking through the snacks to find the licorice, “take all the time you need.”

He tosses the remote to your bed and unzips his bag, pulling out a toothbrush and a clean pair of boxer briefs, a minute passes and he scratches his head before diving back into the bag, yanking out a folded pair of sweatpants.

Sighing as he peels off his boots, he walks to the bathroom door and before shutting it, he pokes his head back out, a curious little grin on his lips as he asks earnestly, “you’re not gonna run away, are you?”

You swallow the bite of licorice and smile back, “think you’re stuck with me, if that’s cool with you?”

His grin broadens to a cheshire smile and he says he won’t be long, promising to save some hot water.

Neither of you can quit the grin on your lips until the door unlocks, and Eddie mutters “cool,” to himself before leaving the steamed bathroom.

Diners with smudge stained windows and siding that was warped from the sun's rays, came few and far between on those lone, dust covered roads. Eddie had pulled into almost every one. “Never know when the next one will pop up, sweetheart,” he smirked, sending a wink your way that had your stomach fluttering.

Each menu, although stickier at some places than others, was relatively the same. Eggs, Bacon, Toast. Waffles at the fancier joints or maybe a bowl of fruit alongside a flapjack.

He watched you intently as your eyes scanned the menu, keeping his promise of having breakfast for supper a few week into your trip. His own stomach had been grumbling since you packed up from the last motel somewhere on the border of Oklahoma and New Mexico. A wrong turn near McCamey had taken you North to Amarillo, three hundred miles in the completely opposite direction.

Instead of screaming about the wasted fuel, Eddie had only shrugged. He was excited to cross into the panhandle, and to make a check along the list of states you’d scribbled onto a napkin a few days into the trip to cross off as you came through them.

That quiet, suspicious drifter he had picked up three weeks ago seemed to blossom with life the more he peeled back the bricks that you had surrounded yourself with. But Eddie was charismatic, easy to talk to, and you found yourself deep in the throes of explaining things to him you haven’t talked about in years.

When your cheeks would heat and embarrassment creeped up your neck, you apologized for talking too much. He only shook his head, a small smile on his lips as he said that he didn’t mind, he wanted to know more.

The waitress strolled back over with a cigarette hanging from her lip, a gray ash practically a mile thick on it as she grumbled about the specials and set glasses of water on the table—ice already melted besides a sliver of a stubborn cube.

“I’ll take a cup of coffee,” he charmed, folding the menu placing his hands on top of it, “two eggs hard fried, a couple of sausage patties and wheat toast, also one of those slices of lemon meringue pie I saw in the display window.”

Without so much as a grunt, the waitress lifted her eyes to look you over. Setting down the vinyl menu, you place your order and lick your lips at the thought of the homemade lard crust on the rhubarb pie.

Looking out the window to the dry landscape, you sigh with a breath of content. You had never been this far west before, never been anywhere really besides the small town you grew up in.

Two coffees sit in front of each of you and Eddie thanks the waitress, a dimpled grin on his cheeks as he opens a packet of sugar. Warm eyes look at you as he stirs the coffee into a swirl, “Nothing like home, huh?”

A smile presses to your lips and you sip the bitter liquid, chipped porcelain against your front teeth, “definitely not, the air is dry here.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, slipping the spoon into his mouth to clean the coffee up, taking a big gulp of the burnt— probably microwaved— concoction, “it is, but that’s the beauty in the journey, exploring different places, meeting new people.”

He tucks a curl behind his ear, a tiny silver hoop in his lobe, you hadn’t noticed before and you ask, “you keen on picking up strangers on the side of the road?”

A laugh bubbles from his throat, and he smiles big showing all of his teeth, “in all the years I’ve been on the road, I never have, not until you,” he takes a sip of his coffee, a pretty blush rides on his cheeks, “guess I haven’t run out of luck just yet.”

You hide your own smile, itching your nose, “how long has it been?”

Eddie thinks for a minute, “well, I left Florida when I was seventeen..,” he adds up the years on his fingers with this thumb moving to each one, “… shit,” he says with a smirk, “almost nine years now.”

He was older, not by much, but you had both left at a younger age. Calling the open road and warm air home for years. Living like a Steve Earle song sporting a two pack habit and a motel tan, it seemed like fate put you on the same road that he was traveling that day.

But you push that thought away, Eddie was looking for love, and you were just tagging along like a pet, a friend at best.

“Do you ever miss it?”

He stretches himself across the booth, arms on the back of the peeling seat, pearl snaps straining against the denim from the broadness of his chest, and you find it hard not to look, “Nah, I’ll go back someday, me and my girl.”

That flutter happens again in your stomach and you feel almost nauseous at how infectious his smile is.

You spend the rest of dinner that way, trying to shove down a grin with each bite of breakfast food as the sun fell behind the mountains. Letting the butterflies swarm, with each time he looked into your eyes.

Not knowing that Eddie was also slowly losing his own battles, leaving with something more in his stomach that was sweeter then the stiff meringue on that damn lemon pie.

🌵 taglist: @joejoequinnquinn @micheledawn1975 @dashingdeb16 @hereforshmut @welc0me-t0-hellfire @aropodcastfuck

[undead-supernova]

Masterlist / 18+

Part 1 - Boring

pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

plot: eddie runs into you unexpectedly and you think it's time to have that date a little early

contains: eddie lacking confidence, confident!reader, get to know Eddie and the reader a little better, making out, kids this is a bit more than pg-13 I'll tell you that much without spoiling it

note: sorry guys, I'm not done with this. maybe far from it. they have a dynamic unlike any other and I'm here for it.

wc: 4k

The library was maybe the last place Eddie wanted to be at one in the afternoon on a Tuesday. It was always overcrowded, riddled with students running around with coffee from the adjoining Starbucks. 

But Eddie needed a new book, having told himself that rereading The Hobbit the third time this semester was…unnecessary. Plus, his English professor told him that “we can only enact change ourselves.” 

Maybe it was a sign. Because as Eddie passed the large glass windows, he saw you sitting at one of the booths.

You looked different from every Saturday night. No makeup, hardly any jewelry except for a thin gold necklace and several rings. An oversized t-shirt and, from his vantage point, you were wearing a pleated skirt. He even noticed that your high-top Converse were placed next to you, mismatched patterned socks adorning your feet. 

And, fuck, Eddie couldn’t help the excitement rising inside him. It should’ve embarrassed him when he started jogging towards the front door, but he couldn’t find it in him to care. All he could think about was the sound of your voice and your eyes and your touch and your kiss.

He slowed his pace as he walked past the printers and computers and found your head down in some textbook, blissfully unaware.

“Working hard or hardly working?” he asked.

And when you looked up and smiled, he could’ve sworn his heart swelled and burst like a goddamn balloon.

“Oh my gosh, hi!” you exclaimed, jumping up to give him a hug. “What the fuck are you doing here!”

It was only for a few seconds, but he couldn’t resist breathing in your intoxicating perfume and memorizing the feel of you. The curve of your back, the soft fabric of your sweatshirt scratching against his calloused fingertips.

And as you sat back down, he realized quickly why your mere touch was so alluring. It was a reminder that Saturday had been real and, on this grueling Tuesday, you still cared about his existence. You still noticed him.

“I was coming to look for something new to read,” he answered, trying to figure out what to do with his hands and failing. “What about you?”

Eddie couldn’t decipher your now raised eyebrow, watching as you lifted your pointer finger. “Sit down,” you nearly demanded, eyes flickering from him to the booth. His heart hammered in his chest as he complied, eyeing your finger following his movements. 

It was despicable how easy it was for you to get him to do whatever you wanted. Even just fucking sitting down. But he loved it. Every. Fucking. Second.

“I was in the stacks looking at the archives,” you explained. “But everyone in my class took them already.” You sighed, rolling your eyes. “Such bitches.”

“How rude,” Eddie said, all teasing with an amused smile.

He could tell you liked it, biting your lip slightly before playing along. “I know, it’s offensive.”

There was something he noticed in your expression, placing your lip back between your teeth as you scanned him up and down. Eddie was unable to keep a smile off his face, overwhelmed by the attention you gave him. Like he was a meal, but something to be savored rather than merely devoured.

He couldn’t help it when he returned the sentiment, glancing down at your skirt that was riding further and further up your thighs. It wasn’t the time to think about you like that, spread wide for him as he got on all fours. Having you barking commands at him to do it properly, rewarding him with endless praise once you deemed it good enough.

Your thighs parted just a bit more, head tilting to the side as you gave him a smirk. As if you knew exactly where his thoughts were and wanted him to keep going. And, wow, were you two really just eye-fucking each other in the library?

“Want some coffee?” he asked, trying to distract himself. Practically flinching, pulling himself back from the table. “I was gonna head to Starbucks afterwards.”

The sexual tension broke at the question and he watched as you fiddled with your pen. But you didn’t flounder like he did. He wondered if you ever could. 

“Yeah, I’d love to. I have to finish something up but—”

“Oh, I’ll go by myself,” he offered.

“You sure?” you asked, clearly surprised.

“Yeah, no biggie,” he assured you, standing up.

Expression turning a bit sheepish, you said, “I will warn you… My order is complicated.”

He shrugged. “Hit me.”

And the order wasn’t complicated, per se. Eddie just wanted to know how the hell had you come up with a “dirty iced chai with oat milk and two pumps of cinnamon dolce”. Regardless, Eddie tucked that into his Notes app for later. If there was a later.

After grabbing himself a large black coffee and the concoction you'd asked for, he made his way back over to you. Rounding the corner, he noticed the way you moved back and forth between a book and your laptop, sighing and mumbling something to yourself. But as if you could sense him, you turned and watched him approach, a smile appearing on your lips.

“Oh, a Venti, huh?” you teased, making grabbing motions at him anyways.

He shrugged, sitting back down. “You deserve it.”

“You know what? You’re right.” You took it from his hand, taking a long sip. “I hate Starbucks coffee,” you said, licking your lips. “It’s awful. But this is the best thing on the menu, so thank you.”

“Yeah, of course.” Eddie hoped you couldn’t see him blush. "I hate it, too. It's just the only thing we got." 

“God, I know. Also, I can Venmo you or—"

“Absolutely not,” he interrupted, waving you away. 

“Okay,” you conceded, not bothering to argue further. Just took another sip and sat back. Glanced out the window before back at him. “Wanna go on that date today?”

“Today?” he asked, nearly gobsmacked.

Nervousness ran along his limbs, not fully prepared to be with you. Alone. Just the two of you. It’d taken him hours to go to bed after dropping you off the other night. Any time he thought he was done masturbating, it just came with another round. Like a goddamn creep.

“Why not?”

“Aren’t you doing research?” he asked, feeling his face grow hot.

And if you noticed, you didn’t say anything about it.

“Oh my god, I would rather die than look at this shit any longer. I’ve been here since eight.” You paused before throwing a hand over your face. “Unless you’re busy. Sorry I didn’t ask first.”

“No, no. I’m free,” he lied, deciding at that moment to skip his class. He’d catch up on Algebra with his tutor—it’s not like he paid attention anyways. That damn tutor was the only reason he understood a fraction of it. Pun absolutely intended. 

And he swore you nearly jumped up, grabbing your shoes and shoving them on before packing up your backpack, the weight of it starting to look daunting. Book after book, plus your laptop and pencil case and…

Without thought, Eddie grabbed it for you, slinging it over his shoulder. Fuck, it was heavy. “Here, I got it.”

You stared up at him, clearly shocked. “Oh, you sure?”

But Eddie gave you a smile and gestured towards the window with his head. “Yeah, come on. I’ll drive.”

By all accounts, Eddie was actually…sweet. It was nearly sickening how sweet he could be, carrying your backpack for you and opening the car door (despite it being a stalker van). Asking what music you liked to listen to—everything, was the answer. And you didn’t just like every genre, you loved it— Fiddling with the air conditioning and telling you to change it if you get too hot or too cold. Asking if his music was too loud, asking how you were doing now, away from your books.

You were starting to find him ridiculously intriguing, unsure how to take his kindness. It wasn’t a bad thing by any means. You just…weren’t used to a man being so considerate of your feelings. 

It wasn’t like you didn’t think you deserved it—that was obvious every time a man got a little too close for comfort and you had to humiliate them. 

But there was just something that felt new about Eddie. When he’d approached you at the party, you sized him up like every other guy shooting their shot. But he caught your eye immediately when he stumbled over his words. And when a jolt seized your veins at that first touch on his arm, you knew you were hooked. 

You’d gone to bed that night with a smile on your face, softly licking along your lips to savor the lingering taste of Eddie’s mouth. It was tinged with beer, something you used to hate. Something you now loved, thoughts echoing one word:

New.

Eddie helped you out of the car once he’d parked, even insisting that you let him get it for you. It made you feel quite warm in the face, surprised by his assertion. Made you feel like a lady, something you hadn’t ever felt at the hands of a man.

As you moved through the museum, you were quiet, whispering now and then about certain art styles and their importance during their corresponding time periods. And you were glad that Eddie wasn’t a douchebag about noise level inside a museum.

He never interrupted, never poked fun at your intelligence. He’d even asked more questions, all hushed and contained, some even you didn’t know the answer to. Pocketing them for later to ask your professors. 

But Eddie rarely gave up any information about himself, leaving you to tap his foot with yours and ask him questions. Every time, his face got hot and he murmured responses with a shrug, as if he didn’t think it was anything special. 

How was it not? He was still undecided, having dreams of working on video games and helping direct the narratives in new and innovative ways to engage with the player more. You didn’t know much about video games, but you still listened. Still gave him the attention he’d given you. It wasn’t even hard—he was so animated once he got into something he was passionate about. It was endearing, actually.

You ended up sitting down on one of the benches together, staring at an abstract painting by an artist you’d never heard of. 

“Do you like abstract?” you asked him, whispering despite the empty room.

Eddie shrugged, eyes trained on the swirling colors. “I think so? I mean, it’s cool to look at. I just don’t really know what I’m looking for. Or what I’m looking at, for that matter.”

That brought a smile to your face. His statement wasn’t judgmental or dismissive. It was…pensive. Contemplative. 

“I think of it like music,” you said. “The different colors and movements are like different instruments. They’re all separate but they come together to make something magical.”

For emphasis, you leaned in closer to him, your face and shoulder fully pressed against him. Raised your arm to point at the sharp flicks of red hurling towards the top right of the canvas. You could’ve sworn you heard Eddie suck in a breath, having to suppress a smirk at the effect you had over him. 

“That’s like a trumpet, bright and loud. Furious in nature but soaring off the page.” Then you pointed toward the royal blue splatters, more round than some of the other scattered pigments. “And this is like, oh, I don’t know. I guess, a trombone. Low and sultry. Rounded. Keeping everything together.”

Eddie turned his head, your noses nearly touching. You couldn’t help the shiver running down your neck at the tickling sensation you got from his hair. A smile you hadn’t seen before enveloped his face as you made eye contact.

“So, you’re saying it’s like jazz.”

A breathy laugh left your lips, finding yourself intimidated by his pointed gaze. By the way you could study the rich brown in his eyes, all bright and energized despite his calm demeanor. The stubble rising from his pores, all scratchy and wicked. 

“Well, uh,” you murmured, surprised by your inability to form words. “It doesn’t have to be, but, um, I guess this one made me think of jazz. The way it kinda…” your voice trailed off as he seemingly leaned in further, his scent like smoke fogging your senses. “It’s not so rigid. It’s improv. It’s, um…”

“Varied?” he offered, his smile growing. “Unique?”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

Eddie let out a hum. “I think I get it now.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s beautiful.”

For once, you had to look away, back at the painting to try and control your breathing. There were flashes of things you wanted to do, both tender and wildly too inappropriate for the setting. Things you wanted beyond physicality, beyond the limits you’d always set for yourself.

And as if he could hear the pounding of your heart, his fingertips touched yours. Slowly weaved his fingers through the spaces left open. Took a piece of your heart with him.

Eddie might not be exactly forward with his actions, but he knew what he wanted. All you could do was squeeze his hand and hope that one day you’d get to see him in full bloom. 

“Why do you do that thing?” you asked.

Eddie glanced over at you, one hand on the steering wheel. The other fiddled with a hole in his pants, needing something to grasp onto. His heart rate just started to slow down, giving him a chance to breathe. 

There was just something about you that drove him mad.

“What thing?”

“Act like you’re not interesting.”

Sheepishly, Eddie shrugged. “I mean, I don’t know. I guess it’s ‘cause you’re way more interesting than me.”

“Bullshit,” you said sternly, a scoff leaving your lips.

“What!” he exclaimed, looking over at you again. “It’s true.”

You shook your head, crossing your arms over your chest. “You highly underestimate yourself.”

Eddie snorted. “I’m a stereotype.”

“Bullshit,” you repeated, starting to sound genuinely frustrated. “Who the hell told you that?”

He didn’t know where to start. 

Being a loser wasn’t a big deal for him in high school. Grew up with his father’s reputation preceding him. Got through it the best he could with some awesome friends along the way. Finally graduated high school and raised his GPA enough to come here. It was simple. In his mind, he was simple.

But spending the latter half of summer, the one he dared never to speak of, without his friends and then coming here without anyone else… Well, he struggled to find anyone willing to be his friend. He tried. Really, he did. But it never came to fruition.

And what was more embarrassing than joining a D&D club before being told he didn’t belong within the first hour? Him, the DM of Hawkins, hell, Indiana, being told he didn’t belong. That he didn’t play right. That he just didn’t fit.

He spent so much time alone. It was starting to make him miss Hawkins, the nostalgia starting to kick in. Hawkins, the place he loathed. The place he wanted nothing to do with. 

He was a nineteen-year-old Freshman with no friends and an undecided future.  

His silence must’ve lasted longer than he thought because you pointed at the nearly empty Walmart parking lot and asked, “Actually, would you pull in for a sec?”

“Yeah, of course,” he responded, heading towards the very back row, far from any remaining cars. Giving the two of you privacy just in case you started to yell at him for being a loser or something. He didn’t know. You were just so unpredictable.

But once he parked, you were unbuckling your seatbelt and grabbing his chin. Squished the bottom of his cheeks in one hand as you pulled his face closer to yours. He must’ve stopped breathing, hands slipping from the steering wheel.

“You better start listening to me, Eddie,” you breathed, all low and sensual, moving your lips to barely graze his bottom lip. “I really don’t like you talking about yourself like that.”

Eddie could feel sweat collecting beneath his bangs as you continued your torture, raking your fingernails down his throat before wrapping your hand around it. He gasped, earning a small smile out of you.

“I don’t waste my time with boring people, as conceited as that sounds,” you continued, the left corner of your mouth lifting. Eyes flickering between his eyes and his lips, eyelashes fluttering with each micromovement. “But I never claimed to be the nicest person, did I?” Eddie still wouldn’t speak. He didn’t know if he could without moaning. “You’re one of the most interesting people I’ve met. And the nicest, which is probably more than I deserve. You’ve seen the way I treat other men.”

“They deserved it,” he whispered, feeling his cock twitch when your grip tightened. “Every one of them.”

“Yeah, they did,” you replied, raising the pitch of your voice. Like you were taunting him. “But you’re different, aren’t you?”

“I-I am?”

“You’re sweet,” you breathed, giving slow kisses to his cheeks. Giggling when you noticed the blood rushing into them so rapidly. “And you’re a real nice guy, you know that?”

“I, uh, I try to be,” he stumbled as you moved your lips past his jaw and against his ear. Went limp at the feeling of you biting the lobe, fanning your breath over it.

“You do such an excellent job,” you whispered. “So nice and kind and funny. You really get me going, Eddie. I didn’t think I’d be so affected by you.”

When you pulled back to face him, you chuckled. He couldn’t blame you. His eyes must’ve been popping out of his head, mouth agape at your pretty words. What was even more fucked up was how genuine you sounded, like you weren’t just saying these things to say them. You meant it.

“I thought about you a lot this weekend,” you said breathily, removing your hand from his neck to start coiling his hair around your finger.

“Me?”

“You,” you said with a nod.

He licked his lips. “W-what about me?”

“About how interesting you are. And not to get too vulgar,” you said with a giggle, all teasing and devilish. “But I couldn’t help but think about taking your cock down my throat.” Another giggle as you tapped your fingers along his collarbone. “Thought about what it looks like, if it’s half as pretty as you.”

Eddie couldn’t stop the way his cock strained against his jeans, the neverending praise overwhelming him. “T-thank you,” he responded, unable to suppress the whine that he’d tried to contain when your other hand began palming him over his jeans. 

“You, um,” he tried to continue, taking a deep breath through his nose to keep his composure. “I-if you want, you can. Anytime. Any time.” 

“It’d be so easy like this, you know,” you nearly purred. “To ride you, to leave you a blubbering mess and thanking me for taking care of you. I think you’d really, really like that.”

“You’re killing me, sweetheart,” he groaned, fingers now reaching out to white-knuckle the steering wheel. 

“Am I wrong?”

A tiny scoff left his lips as you nearly massaged his cock, knowing that if you didn’t stop soon, he was going to burst. “You already know the answer to that.”

“I want to hear it, Eddie.” You nipped his neck, causing him to jump a little. But you wouldn’t stop, whispering filthy words as you continued to mark him. “I want to hear you tell me how good it would feel for me to suck you dry.” He continued to nod, each word sending him further into the deep end. “Before getting you hard again, just ‘cause I can, and getting on top so I can milk you with my pussy.” He moaned at your vulgarity. “Which is dripping, by the way.”

Without any warning, Eddie was cumming, an explosive rush that had him twitching and jerking. Panting and dry mouthed. You didn’t remove your hand, merely chuckling and rubbing him through his jeans until he was able to breathe normally again.

Before Eddie could get the chance to apologize for his behavior, you were pulling him in with an agonizingly slow kiss, your fingers damp from the cum seeping through his jeans. 

You tugged at his lower lip with your teeth before letting out a hum. Gazed up into his puppy dog eyes and said, “Good boy.”

After a few moments of Eddie being able to think clearly again, you found your eyes wandering around his console before settling on a pack of cigarettes. 

“You smoke?” you asked, plucking them from the cupholder and shaking the box in front of his face.

He nodded, seemingly quiet despite what transpired. “Want one?”

“Absolutely,” you responded, quick to take two out and hand one over. Watched him roll the windows down. Even went so far as to light both cigarettes for you like a gentleman. 

You knew he was still coming down from that high. It wasn’t like you could judge when the wetness collecting between your thighs was probably staining the carseat. It took everything in you not to beg him to take you right then and there. But you were a lady (of sorts) and as a lady, you were content with saving yourself for another day.

Besides, it was nice to see him so calm now. Like a weight had been lifted, if only for a moment. It was still a moment.

“Post-nut clarity cigarette,” you joked, taking a slow drag and glancing out at the afternoon sun. 

“Was that…not embarrassing?”

That was when you realized what was happening.

“Are you kidding me? That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” you said truthfully. 

“I’m sure it’s totally hot,” he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

Ah, yes. You supposed it was embarrassing for a guy to have creamed his pants without so much as a kiss. But that didn’t bother you at all. You knew it would be different once you were alone, edging him until he was begging you for more. Nothing would make you happier.

You ignored him. “You know, if you want us to go any further, you’re gonna have to earn it,” you said plainly, checking over your nails to make sure the paint hadn’t chipped too bad.  

“How?”

“Once you learn to be nice to yourself.” You shrugged before glancing back over at his wide-eyed expression. “I know there’s something more to you than what you think of yourself. I saw it at the party and I’m seeing it now. You just have to see that, Eddie. That’s really all there is to it.”

Eddie’s lips seemed to form a pout before he took a few hearty puffs, the smoke billowing around you. Looked around. Looked down at his lap. Looked back up at you. Mumbled, “So I can’t, like, go down on you right now?”

A laugh surged out of you so quickly that you started coughing. You waved him away when his concern sounded, ending up laughing harder before you could contain yourself.

“As much as I’d love to give you the privilege of eating me out right now, I think it’s best to wait until you’ve shown some improvement.”

“So there’s a chance?” he asked. 

You leaned back in towards his face, opening his mouth with your thumb. Taking another drag, you put your lips to his and blew the smoke into his mouth. Felt him breathe it in before letting it out through his nose. 

You smirked. “If you’re desperate for a piece of me, you could always lap up what I left behind on your car seat.”

He groaned, taking a deep breath while rolling his eyes. “God, you’re a fucking menace.”

“Honey, you haven’t seen anything yet.”

as per usual, thanks to @strangergraphics for letting me use her dividers and looking over my work hehehe

[jimraisedmeup]

TICK // 0.1 Eddie Munson

☾

Synopsis: what did your parents think of you? did they worry what strangers on the street might perceive? did they wake in a cold sweat, unable to sleep over fears of their community whispering behind their backs? did bile rise in their throats as they smelled sweat, cigarettes, and fornication on their eldest daughter?

good. clutch those fucking pearls.

"that Buckley girl is going to hell, what a waste of life."

(While this prologue takes place in Season 4 of Stranger Things, the majority of TICK will be set in the years prior, cause I mean for the love of all that is holy, Eddie deserves a backstory)

Rating: Overall this is an explicit slow-ish burn, but each chapter will be labeled accordingly!

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!OC (Robin's older sister)

A/N: I posted this a couple years ago on Wattpad, took it down because I was in a terrible place in my life. Of course, being the sadistic goblin that I am, here you go... that haunting year of my life actually spawned something beautiful. 21 chapters of TICK are already written out, ready to be revised & reborn. I am open to comments/suggestions/requests.

☾ TICK // 0.1 - prologue

☾

Robin sighed, rubbing her left temple and looking around the video store.

"Guys… my sister might know where Eddie is hiding."

Dustin raised an eyebrow as Max scoffed, hand on her hip.

"Since when do you have a sister?"

Exasperatedly, Robin grabbed one of the phones and handed it to Max. "Since forever,” the brunette explained with a grimace. “She graduated last year. But she won't help us if I call her. One of you better do it. She isn't… she's a very private person."

Drumming his fingers on the countertop, Dustin pressed Robin. "And why exactly do you think your sister knows where Eddie is?"

“Umm…” Robin’s voice reduced to a mumble as she coughed out the last bit: “he's her... ex… boyfriend?” 

Two pairs of young, wide eyes stared at her. “What?”

"They kinda used to date, or whatever. A couple years ago."

Max snatched the phone from her, annoyed with the wasted time. "Just give me her number. I doubt she's that bad, if she fell from the same tree as you."

Frantic, Robin's hands were in the air. "That's the thing! I swear she was actually raised by wolves or something." 

"Just dial, Robin!"

The phone rang three times as Robin and Dustin stared at Max in anticipation.

"Hello?"

"Hi, is this… uh… Ms. Buckley?"

You hesitated, suddenly feeling feral and defensive, as an instant layer of sweat formed on your palm that was holding the phone.  

"Might be. This better be a damn good reason to bother me in the middle of a perfectly good Saturday."

Max felt a little intimidated by the tone in your voice. "Well, I was wondering if you had seen or heard from Eddie Munson recently?"

On the other end of the line, you snorted rudely at Max's question.

"Why? Does he want his virginity back?"

☾

TAGLIST for this series if you would like to be notified when I post new chapters!

[strangersmunsons]

read 'em and weep #5

you're acting weird. Eddie decides to do something about it.

Chapter 5 Eddie x Bookworm!Reader Series Read Ch. 4 -> Here!

Contains: Eddie x Reader, fem!bookworm!reader, mix of fluff & angst, romantic gestures, idiots in love, communication breakthrough, shy babies working out some kinks. No mention of reader's appearance, no use of y/n. Warnings: Discussion of Eddie's past, mentions of poverty, drug use, allusion to violence. Mentions of food & eating. Word Count: 4.5k sometimes I think I make him too soft in this series, but I can't help myself. are you guys tired of lovesick!eddie yet???

Eddie wakes up late on Sunday — it’s well after noon when he rises from bed with a sticky yawn in his throat and sleep in his eyes. In his rumpled t-shirt and boxers, hair a tangled mess, he pads down the hallway and into the kitchen, where Wayne is dropping scoops of pancake batter into a sizzling pan on the stove.

“Mornin’, Ed.”

“G’morning,” Eddie grunts back. He plops into one of the seats at the tiny table, rubbing his eyes.

“Sleep okay?���

“Like a rock.”

Wayne nods approvingly. “Figured as much. I could hear ya from the living room.”

Eddie scrunches his face in annoyance. “You could not.”

His uncle smiles, mirth buried in his whiskers.

“Well, you deserve a good night’s sleep. You’re always out and about these days.”

Wayne flips the last pancake, lets it cook, then adds it to the stack he’s already piled up. He sets the plate of cakes and two cups of coffee onto the table, and takes a seat across from his nephew.

They begin to eat in silence. That’s not unusual, as Eddie has a tendency to inhale his food — the boy’s got a garbage disposal for a stomach — but he’s not scarfing it down the way he normally does. Instead, he pushes his breakfast around his plate in between taking small bites, looking moody.

Wayne pauses in between sips of coffee, #1 Uncle mug hovering halfway to his lips. 

“Everything okay?”

“Uh…I think so. Yeah.”

Wayne raises an eyebrow skeptically at him. “You sound like you’re not sure.”

Eddie shifts uncomfortably in his seat, frowning at his pancakes.

He doesn’t want to push, lest Eddie shut him down completely, but Wayne’s curious. Sue him.

“Somethin’ happen with your girl last night?”

Eddie blushes and sits back in his seat, voice pained. “Wayne —”

“We don’t have to get all touchy-feely. It’s just a question,” he tells him sternly. “And believe it or not, kiddo, I have known a woman or two in my lifetime. I can give you advice if you need it, y’know. I’m not a eunuch.”

Eddie wrinkles his nose. “Gross, man.”

Wayne laughs, a gruff chuckle that reverberates around the small kitchen. Eddie smiles in spite of himself.

“So what’s the problem?”

Eddie drums a nervous rhythm against the table with his fingers, naked without their bulky rings. “I don’t know, really. She was just kinda weird yesterday.” He pauses for a moment, searching for the right word. “Distant.”

Wayne listens intently, fist tucked under his chin. “Distant how?”

Eddie fills his cheeks with air, and lets it out in a long, slow exhale. “Well, she was fine in the morning, but last night she was really quiet. Especially when we were alone, which I don’t understand.” If you’d been nervous to spend time with his friends, then he’d get it, but you seemed fine at Benny’s. It was before and after, when you were by yourselves, which strikes him as odd.

He gestures helplessly with his hands, words flowing faster now, confusion leaking into every syllable. “She’s usually really excited when she sees me. All happy and stuff, y’know? And we always talk a lot, but she hardly said a word to me. And at first I thought she just had a tough day at work, but then —” Eddie stops abruptly, clamping his mouth shut. I didn’t get hardly any kisses, he finishes miserably in his head.

Rather than verbalize the thought for Wayne, he just throws his arms up, letting his flailing limbs speak for themselves.

Wayne gives him a solemn nod, determined to keep his expression neutral. If he reacts too strongly either way, then Eddie might not feel so inclined to discuss his love life with him again. Ever the sensible one, he asks, “Did she have a tough day at work?”

Eddie looks sheepish. “That’s what she said,” he admits reluctantly. 

“But you don’t believe her?”

Eddie’s bottom lip juts out petulantly. “It just didn’t feel like she wanted to be around me.” His face falls, and his voice becomes softer, the hurt more pronounced. “Like she couldn’t wait to get away.”

Wayne heaves a sigh, and thinks it over. “Personally, I think you’re readin’ too much into it,” he finally responds. “If she tells you she had a hard day, then she probably did.” He rubs his stubbly chin thoughtfully. “Although, you might be onto something there….”

Eddie’s face crinkles in despair, mouth falling open.

“Now, hang on,” Wayne adds hastily, seeing his kicked-puppy look. “I just mean to say, that you’ve been spendin’ an awful lot of time together, right? And you haven’t really known each other that long, but you’ve hardly gone a day this summer without seeing her. Maybe she’s runnin’ out of things to say to you,” he jokes.

Eddie clicks his tongue in distaste. “C’mon,” he complains.

“She might just need a little space, is all I’m sayin’.” The older man shrugs. “Doesn’t mean she doesn’t like you, or that she doesn’t wanna be around you. Just give her some breathing room. And then, in a few days, if you still feel like things are off, talk to her about it.”

Eddie squints at him. “Can I just do that?”

Wayne shakes his head in disbelief. “Boy, I swear,” he mumbles.

After breakfast, Eddie mulls over what his uncle told him. Now, he’s the first to admit that he doesn’t really know how to be a boyfriend, but goddamn it, he’s trying.

Is that his problem? Is he trying too hard?

Okay, fine, he’s a bit of a smother. But it’s difficult for him not to be; he’s spent far too long navigating life in this thankless town alone. Now that he’s finally found you, he can scarcely bring himself to let go, even for a second.

“Breathing room,” he mutters to himself. Fine. No biggie. He can deal with that.

For the next few days, Eddie resists the temptation to call you first, or visit you unannounced at work, which is a task that would be much easier to accomplish if you were giving him literally anything in return.

But you haven’t called. Not for an evening chat, which was customary on days he didn’t stop by the library. Not to check up on him, not to find out where he’s been, or why he hasn’t visited…it’s like nothing is out of the ordinary. 

Evidently, you’re not missing him at all.

The phone has only rung twice so far this week. Once it was Henderson, and the other one was a telemarketer that he promptly hung up on. His ego took a huge hit every time he came home and asked, “Any calls for me?” and had to see Wayne shake his head no.

Disappointed, and overwhelmed by a creeping sense of dread, Eddie concludes that your radio silence could mean one of two things: either you just don’t feel the need to be around him as much as he does you, or he did something to upset you. 

He can’t figure out which is worse. The internal debate plagues him morning and night as the days keep rolling by.

Up until now, you haven’t seemed to mind his clinginess. If anything you were nearly always overjoyed to see him — so much so that it startled him, and he often found himself looking back over his shoulder, to see if there was someone else standing behind him that you were smiling at instead. Has the novelty of Eddie Munson worn off so quickly? It didn’t seem like you, so kind and attentive towards him, but who was he to expect you to want to be with him twenty-four/seven?

Unless it was something else entirely, something he had done that didn’t sit right with you, that was causing this. He tries to think of what he could possibly said or did that may have offended you, but he keeps coming up empty. 

And then, in the midst of his warring thoughts, inspiration strikes.

“Uhhh…hey, Wayne?” 

Wayne calls back from his spot on the couch, where he’s immersed in the latest episode of The Joy of Painting. “Yeah?”

Eddie shuffles into the living room, lips pursed. He tries to keep his voice as nonchalant as possible. “Would it be…ill-advised…to show up unannounced at her house with a grand romantic gesture?”

Wayne stares at him. “You know I said space, right?”

Eddie starts packing up a brown paper grocery bag with everything he thinks he’ll need, while Wayne hovers in the kitchen, watching him with his arms crossed. He’s simultaneously disapproving and amused.

“So you’re just gonna ignore my advice, huh?”

“Wayne,” Eddie sighs, “I appreciate your sage words of wisdom, I really do. But unfortunately, I am not a patient man. I need resolution now, or else I’ll die.” He pulls out another snack from a cupboard and stows it away in the bag, alongside the sandwiches he made and some other morsels scrounged up from the kitchen. He’ll get your favorite drink, too, when he stops for flowers at the gas station —

“You? Impatient? Naw.”

“Ha, ha,” Eddie replies sarcastically.

Wayne shakes his head. “I sure hope this works out for you.”

Eddie hesitates. “I mean….” Suddenly insecure, he looks over at Wayne, anguished expression on his face. “Is it a completely horrible idea?”

Wayne softens immediately, and silently curses himself for discouraging him. “No. No, I don’t mean that. I’m actually…well, I’m mighty proud to see you treatin’ a lady so well.” Eddie turns scarlet, grimacing at the praise, and Wayne continues. “I’m just worried you might overwhelm her, with…how well you’re treatin’ her.”

Eddie rakes a hand through his hair. “I just…don’t like the way things feel right now. And I don’t wanna make the mistake of ignoring it, hoping it’ll go away, and have things get worse.”

There’s a pang in Wayne’s heart. He really is a good kid, isn’t he? “Aw, hell, Ed. If this feels like it’s the right thing for you to do, then I say do it.”

When Eddie finally arrives at your house, the nerves have really kicked in. He understands that this is kind of a gamble, but subtlety has never been his forte. Slinging his acoustic guitar over his back, clutching the grocery bag in one fist and a small bouquet of dyed carnations in the other, he manages to rap lightly on the front door without dropping anything.

Eddie holds his breath as the seconds tick by, heart thumping in his chest.

Finally, the door swings open slowly, revealing your figure and Eddie immediately feels warm, in spite of the cool air that seeps out from the house. You look startled to see him, even more so when your eyes drop down to the flowers in his hand, mouth popping open in surprise.

“Hi,” he greets you nervously. “Uh, I hope it’s okay that I’m here, I-I know I didn’t call you or anything first. But, um, it’s a nice day out, so I thought we could have a picnic?” It comes out like a question. He jostles the grocery bag, and you can hear the contents shift around inside. “If you’re not busy or anything. And these, um, are for you.” He thrusts the flowers forward, palm sweating against their plastic wrapping.

You stand there in silence, not saying or taking anything, just gaping at him. Eddie’s stomach drops. And he’s totally unprepared for what happens next.

Your face crumples, and you burst into tears.

“Oh, Jesus.” Eddie sets everything down onto the ground and lurches forward, arms outstretched to touch you, but he hesitates before making contact, his hands fluttering around your figure uncertainly. “I — sweetheart — what?” he stutters, entirely out of his element. 

“Sorry!” you sob, clapping your hands over your mouth. “I’m sorry!”

“Don’t apologize,” he says automatically, completely bewildered. His hands finally come down to rest on your shoulders, and he leans closer to you, like maybe proximity will cure whatever this is. “Is something wrong?” He winces, and shakes his head. “Sorry, that’s stupid — what’s wrong?”

You sniffle in response, fat tears dripping from the corners of your eyes.

Watching you tremble with emotion breaks his heart, and it’s stronger than his panic at being unexpectedly confronted by a crying woman. “Oh, baby,” he says tenderly, wrapping his arms around you fully and pulling you in close. “Whatever it is, it’s okay.”

“Sorry,” you repeat in a watery voice, slightly muffled by you pressing your face into his shirt. “You’re just…you’re so sweet, Eddie. That’s all.”

“You don’t have to say sorry for crying,” he says, chuckling breathlessly. “Although I was kind of aiming for a smile with all this, not tears.” He pats your back gently, and moves his lips to your ear. “It’s been a while. I was missing you.”

You shudder. “I missed you, too.” You let out a choked laugh, and pull back a little, dabbing at your eyes. You audibly try and swallow the lump in your throat. “This isn’t how I usually greet company, I promise.”

In the small, sunny backyard, Eddie lays out a faded gingham tablecloth onto the grass. It’s tattered at the edges and bears quite a number of stubborn stains, maybe not great for their tiny kitchen anymore, but perfect for an outdoor blanket. While he sets up his little surprise date, doling out food and plates and napkins, he steals glances at you, visible through the kitchen window, where you’re arranging your new flowers in a vase. When you come back outside to join him, he doesn’t miss the way you swipe at your eye one last time, trying to rid yourself of the final remnants of your outburst.

He offers you a soft smile, and pats the spot on the ground next to him.

You sink onto the blanket with a sigh, looking tired but pleased to see him nonetheless. And there’s a trace of something else in your eyes, some unknown emotion that he can’t quite put his finger on. You reach gingerly for the sandwich he packed for you — your favorite, you note right away — but Eddie simply watches, wondering if he has to ask or if he should wait for you to explain.

“So, how’re things?” you ask innocently, and take a small bite.

Eddie raises his eyebrows, but he keeps his tone light. “Well, I’m a little concerned, naturally. We gonna talk about what just happened back there?” 

You chew slowly, stalling. He waits patiently.

“I wasn’t expecting all this,” you finally say, gesturing around at the spread before you. “It’s…it’s really, really nice of you,” your voice breaks again on the last word, but if you’re threatened by another wave of tears, you don’t succumb.

Eddie shrugs modestly, but remains curious. “It’s no big thing. Just wanted to surprise you,” he says, and hesitates before continuing. “I, uh, haven’t heard from you in a while, so I wasn’t sure if…maybe you were upset with me, or something, I dunno. Like, if I did something wrong.”

Abruptly, you fix your gaze on your lap, but not before Eddie sees them widen in alarm.

He peers closer at you. “Were you upset with me?”

Your blanche. “God, I’m such an asshole,” you mumble, throat tightening again.

Eddie’s thoroughly confused now, and he chuckles uncertainly. “Sorry, sweetheart, but I’m a little lost here. Why are you calling yourself an asshole?” The idea is absurd; it’s hard for him to even fathom.

You wring your hands nervously, unable to make yourself look at him. “Eddie, I — I’m sorry. That I haven’t been reaching out to you lately.” You struggle with what to say, feeling ashamed, but you force yourself to continue. “But…Marissa — from work, y’know? — she…she told me some stuff about you.”

Eddie’s insides turn to ice.

“Stupid, gossipy stuff,” the words come out in a rush now, like you’re desperate to get the truth out and over with, “most of which I didn’t even really believe, anyway, but I guess I couldn’t help feeling…anxious, after it happened? And I didn’t know how to talk to you about it, so I just…didn’t. I’m so sorry.” You take a deep breath and shake your head, frustrated at your own actions. “And then you come here today with an entire picnic, and flowers, and your guitar, and I feel like the biggest jerk on the planet. I can’t believe myself.”

Eddie falls silent for a moment, his dark eyes big and sad. It’s not what he was expecting, though he supposes he should have been anticipating something like this happening eventually. Gossip about him had improved — or affected him less, at least — when he finished school, but there were still whispers about him amongst the townies, he knew.

“What did she tell you?” he asks dully. “That I’m the spawn of Satan?”

A knot twists in your stomach. “Something like that. Of course I know that’s bullshit.”

Eddie bites the inside of his cheek. “Oh, yeah? What did she tell you that was so impressive, then?” When you flinch at his words, he cringes inwardly at his own snarkiness, and reminds himself who he’s talking to.

You scratch at a dark spot on the blanket, fidgeting under his stare. “She — she said that you were involved with someone named Chrissy, and the way she mentioned it really freaked me out.”

Upon hearing her name, Eddie’s eyes bulge with panic. Oh shit, oh shit. Low blow from Marissa. Because unlike the far-fetched devil worship accusations, there’s some substance to that rumor, no matter how convoluted the truth became. He starts to mentally scramble for a way to explain, but you continue on before he can speak.

“I guess I just couldn’t stand the thought of you having another girlfriend,” you admit guiltily. “I didn’t wanna find out, because I didn’t think I could take it, if I knew you were seeing someone else.”

That catches him off guard. “Oh, you —” Eddie fumbles with his words, “you thought that I was…dating her?”

You frown. “Well, yeah. When someone tells you ‘ask him about so-and-so’ in that kind of tone, that’s generally what comes to mind.”

Eddie blinks, then groans, and flings himself back on the blanket. He drapes one arm over his eyes, hiding the world from view. He heaves a great sigh. “Nothing like that ever happened between Chrissy and I,” he says quietly. “Never dated, never hooked up. Never even so much as kissed.”

“Oh.” You process this, wondering at her significance. “Who is she, then?”

“Just a girl in town,” he mutters. “We went to high school together.” He sighs resignedly again, and pulls his arm up, just enough so he can peek at you. “Listen, Wayne and I, we don’t have a whole lot to our names. In case that wasn’t obvious.” He snorts humorlessly. “I…used to deal, for a bit of extra cash. Help out with the rent and stuff. Did Marissa tell you that, too?”

“She did,” you affirm. “But Eddie, I don’t care about that either, I swear.”

He moves on without acknowledging your remark. “Chrissy was a cheerleader. Queen of Hawkins High, basically. And she was looking to buy one day, so we met up after school. I was just gonna sell her some pot, but she asked me if I had anything, ah, stronger.” He wets his lips with his tongue. “I didn’t usually sell harder shit to other students, but I had some Special K laying around, for my own…personal use.” He doesn’t dare look up again to see your reaction to this tidbit. “And I sold it to her…and then she disappeared.”

You stare at him. “She…disappeared?”

Eddie sits back up and nods, face hardening. “For a few days, anyway. Ran away. Her family’s got a good name, and a lot of money, but that doesn’t always make for a good home life, y’know? I don’t know what was going on with her, exactly, but she wasn’t okay. And when she skipped town, everyone pointed their fingers at me.”

He doesn’t need to elaborate; the implication is clear. Still, you ask, “What, they thought that you…did something to her?”

“Yeah,” he deadpans, staring off into the distance. “All but brought out the pitchforks and torches.”

Indignance on his behalf hits you like a truck. “Teenagers run away all the time!”

Eddie rubs his face in distress. “Yeah, they do, but when Hawkins’ golden girl is last seen entering the town freak’s trailer to buy ketamine, people tend to jump to conclusions.”

A wave of sadness washes over you, as you try to picture it in your head: they truly believed that sweet, doting Eddie was capable of hurting a young girl like that? 

Eddie, who played fantasy games with kids six years his junior simply because they asked him to, and fed the strays in the trailer park, and spent many a Sunday making banana bread with his uncle? Who he chose to live with instead of moving out, because he loved him and wanted to be close in case he needed him? Was it even possible, for people to be so blind?

The very thought of it makes you sick. “That’s horrible….”

“S’okay,” he mumbles. “She came back home eventually. A little worse for wear, I heard, but she was fine. Told everyone that I had nothing to do with her leaving, or whatever happened while she was gone. But,” he shrugs, “people will believe what they wanna believe. The Munson reputation precedes me.”

You reach for his warm hand, and clasp it in yours, savoring the feel of his calloused palm against your own.

He casts you a desperate glance. “I swear I never did anything to her,” he whispers. 

Your chest aches for him, and you squeeze his hand. “Of course you didn’t.”

His breathing hitches. “I guess it’s obvious,” he says, voice trembling slightly, “that there’s a lot of stuff I haven’t, um, told you about yet. And to be honest, I don’t think I’m ready to tell you all of it right now, either. But I will, someday.”

There it is. The notion that Eddie wants to be in your life long-term, and that he wants you to be in his, finally spoken.

“You don’t have to tell me anything you’re not ready to,” you reassure him quietly. “It won’t change how I feel about you, anyway. I think you’re really wonderful. I-I like you so much, Eddie.”

A silence falls over the two of you. Eddie watches the bumblebees fly lazily over the white clover dotting the lawn. You try to think of something else to say, something you can tell him that’ll make the pain go away, erase the hurt that this town has caused him. You suspect that this incident with Chrissy is just the tip of the iceberg that is Eddie’s trauma — for how long was he treated like this by those around him, and how harshly?

Before you can come up with the right words to soothe him, Eddie speaks again, his voice a little stronger. “So you, uh…heard that I was a drug-dealing cult leader, but got upset because you thought I was seeing someone else?”

At last, some brevity. You make eye contact across the blanket, and you’re relieved to see the corners of his lips have turned up into a tiny smile.

Heat blooms in your cheeks as you nod. “I did, yeah.”

He attempts husky laugh, though he still looks weary. “Damn. You got it bad, huh?”

You shrug. “What can I say? You’re a catch, Munson. I don’t think I feel like sharing.”

He hums softly, and he relaxes a little, body sagging as he finally releases some of the tension he’s been holding onto all this time. “Sorry for snapping at you,” he offers needlessly, biting at his thumbnail.

You dismiss it immediately. “Don’t apologize —”

“Nah, I get it. Hell, I wouldn’t blame you if the cult rumors or the dealing really did bother you, even. I mean, that’s some pretty jarring intel to hear from your boss about the guy you’re dating. They’re not really things people tend to look for in a partner.”

You shake your head. “I should’ve talked to you about it as soon as it happened. But it just felt so…crass to come right out and start interrogating you.” You scoot closer to him on the blanket. “You have to believe me, Eddie, I don’t care about what anyone else has to say. I feel like I know you,” you pause, and reach out with your free hand to cup his cheek, “even if I’m a little fuzzy on the details right now.”

He sucks in a quick breath, closing his eyes, and rests his face against your palm. “I have to warn you,” he says, “that if we’re together, and people know about it, then this might not be the last time someone tries to talk to you about me. And I’m asking you to — to trust that I’m not what they say I am.”

“I do,” you promise. “I trust you.”

You lean in and press a soft, quick kiss to his lips. He rests his forehead against yours, and chuckles weakly. Although the reassurance was needed, he’s feeling all too vulnerable for his liking, so he changes the subject. “You know, while we’re hashing things out here, can I ask you an unrelated question?”

You smile indulgently. “Shoot.”

“So, I guess we know now that this wasn’t really why, but Wayne told me that the reason you weren’t talking to me is because I’m up your ass all the time, and that I need to give you more space. That’s why I didn’t come sooner. I know I kind of smother you, and I was worried that maybe, maybe you needed a break from me, or something?”

Rubbing your thumb against his cheekbone, you whisper, “Oh, gosh no. You’re like…my favorite person, Eddie.” You nod shyly, as though affirming it to yourself for the first time. “Yeah. You’re the person I want to be around the most, um, at any given moment.”

Eddie blushes, and something inside of him shifts at those words, making him feel impossibly soft. “Me too,” he returns.

Your turn. “And I have a question for you, too.”

“Shoot,” he echoes.

“Were you gonna play me something on that?” You gesture to his guitar, forgotten on the grass behind him. 

Eddie lets out another laugh, the most carefree one he’s uttered today. “I was. Sorry, I forgot.”

“It’s hard for me to imagine you playing acoustic music. I’m intrigued.”

Eddie grasps the neck of the guitar with one hand, and drags the instrument into his lap, situating himself into a playing position. “You’d be shocked, sweetheart. I can make just about anything sound metal.”

Your eyes sparkle wickedly. “Are you gonna play me some Joni Mitchell?”

Eddie purses his lips. “No, I was thinking KISS. It, uh, translates pretty well, actually.”

You cross your legs on the blanket, rest your elbow on your knee and tuck your hand under your chin — giving him your full attention.

“I’ll be the judge of that. Let’s hear it!”

thank you for reading!! <3

taglist: @eddiesgirlforever @eds6ngel @sheisahauntedhouse @lokis-tardis-companion19 @teary-eyed-egg @whenshelanded @nanaminswhore @witchwolflea @destinationwanderlust @kores-mun-son-n-more @clairesjointshurt @fishwithtitz @wickedscorpio22 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @lexr86 @cultish-corner

[mrsrdlw]

Am i your muse?

summary: Eddie is writing you a song

wc: 450

note: Hey!!! I took this headcannon from a guy on tiktok but i lost the video :(. Since i don’t have it, i wrote down my version of it. I hope you enjoy it!

You were sitting in your bed, Eddie was writing things in his notebook, on the floor. But he was there for two hours now since he came to your home, after band practice. Since you were reading, you didn’t pay much attention on it and just let him have his privacy. But you were too curious to just watch and do nothing.

-Hey Eds, you’re a bit quiet. That’s kind of unusual for you- You said making him giggle- You good?

That made him look at you, hiding his work from you.

-Sure i am, sweetheart! I’m just a little… busy.- And with that, he came back to look down

You tried something else.

-What’re you doing there? Is it for a campaign?- You crawled in his direction and he moved away

-Huh, no. This is something else.

-Oh really? Is it a new song for the band?

-Kind of… Not for the band though- He mumbled getting nervous with you getting closer and closer.

-A song? Hmm- You tried to see but he wouldn’t. That’s when it clicked in your head- No way! You’re writing me a song? Am i your muse?

He looked at you a little disappointed, probably because you ruined his surprise, but amused by your excitement.

-Yeah… It was supposed to be a surprise, you know.- He smiled at you and you hid your own mumbling a low “sorry”- It’s alright, i’m still working on it though.

He was looking at the notebook as if there was a giant math calculation to be solved. He was very harsh on himself.

-Can i see it?- You dared, almost jumping on him. But his reflexes were good and he got up really fast.

-No no no! It is not ready yet! It needs to be perfect and i still need to make the perfect melody. You’re too greedy baby, hold your horses.

-Sorry, i just got excited.- You sat back on your bed- Can you tell me what is it about?

-Just, uh, how beautiful you are. The way you got me just by looking at me and… how hot you are.

Your cheeks flushed by his words and the way he looked at you- Promise you’ll show me when it’s finished?

-Without a doubt, baby. But that might take a while. I seem to be stuck here…

-Really? Well i…- Like the little devil on your shoulder whispered in your ear, you said- You want some help with that? I mean, since that’s what your song is about?

He gave you a mischievous grin, got up, taking his jacket off and laid you back. The notebook, long forgotten. He whispered very close to your lips “I think that is a great idea” finally closing the gap between you two.

If you have any ideas/requests/headcannons you can send me anytime, my inbox is open:)

[kardemuum]

Roller rink

Reader (fem) finds Eddie very interesting at the roller rink! (slight sexual tension)

The roller rink buzzed with energy, pulsing with the beat of the music and the whizzing of skates. Among the colorful crowd, a girl breezed around the rink with skill and confidence, her eyes darting around, taking in the scene.

In a booth, a group of guys huddled together, chatting and laughing. Her attention zeroed in on one of them – a laid-back guy with a friendly grin and long curly hair. 

As she breezed by, she couldn't resist stealing glances at him, her heart quickening with each playful exchange. She grooved to the music, shooting him flirty looks as she passed by with a smooth sway. Her roller skating was so effortless, it seemed like she was floating above the ground.

As he watched her, a shock of surprise flashed across his face. He nudged his friend, his eyes widening in disbelief, silently asking, "Are you seeing this?". 

She circled the rink another time, observing his puzzled expression. With a mischievous grin, she locked eyes with him once more. He widened his eyes in disbelief and mouthed, "Me?". Slowing down as she approached the booth where the curly-haired boy sat, she couldn't help but bite her lip, a playful smile dancing on her lips. With a nod, she confirmed his unspoken question, sending a rush of excitement through the curly boy. 

As she swayed to the music and glided around the rink, preparing to steal another glance at the boy, she realized he had vanished. Frantically looking around, she spotted him leaning against the rink fence, his presence unmistakable even in the dimly lit surroundings. Now, he was totally focused on her, his eyes glued to her every move. She saw her chance to get closer, away from the crowd of his friends. She skated towards him, sliding her hands next to his on the fence. As they locked eyes, they found themselves face to face, their proximity sparking a rush of excitement between them.

The boy's throat tightened, and he met her gaze. "Hey," he said nervously, "I feel like I've been watched, you know? Sounds weird, right?" He chuckled, a shy grin spreading across his face.

“Oh, really?” She leaned in closer, a smirk playing on her lips as she caught his bashful expression. He couldn't help but find her captivating, from her looks to her scent. Now that he heard her voice, he was completely hooked, wanting more with every passing moment. 

“I guess I have a secret admirer huh?” The boy flashes a mischievous grin at her, his eyes sparkling with playful intent.

“I don’t know if I’ve been very secretive,” She gives him a coy smile, her tone laced with teasing. “Should I come over the fence, Romeo?” She challenges, her lips quirking up in amusement. He chuckles, his grin widening into a theatrical smirk. "Well, Juliet, the balcony is all yours. But be warned, it's not as glamorous as it seems from down here." His voice drips with melodramatic flair. 

She skates slowly towards the gate of the rink, the boy following eagerly on the other side, anticipation written all over his face. As she reaches the gate, she struggles to take off her roller skates. With a mischievous glint in his eye, the boy bends down and offers his assistance.

“Why aren’t you the gentleman? Thank you, Romeo,” she remarks with a playful wink.

“Name’s Eddie, Sweetheart. Wanna get out of here?” He asked, a mischievous glint in his eye. 

You smirked, mirroring his playful energy. "Sure thing, Eddie," you replied, your tone teasing.

With a shared grin, you and Eddie slipped out of the roller rink, ready to continue the fun elsewhere.

[strangererotica]

NSFW

some deranged eddie content for your friday… ♥️

[lives-in-midgard]

Dating Eddie Diaz would include:

Pairing: Eddie Diaz x reader

A/N: Hey everyone! This is my first Eddie Diaz headcanon, I hope you like it! I already made two Buck fanfics and will make a Masterlist soon!

Divider made my @firefly-graphics

Main Masterlist

If you worked at the 118, you would both have the same shift, that’s also how you met.

You and Eddie immediately bonded when you worked together during calls, at training or when you spent some time together after work.

After being friends for a while, Eddie asked you out on a date.

When you started dating, you went on a few more dates.

To a restaurant, to the beach or just a chill day at your apartment.

Eddie suggested taking the relationship slowly and not rushing anything.

If you don’t work as a firefighter or a paramedic, he tries to spend as much time with you as possible.

If he has time, he will text you while he’s working.

After work he sometimes drives to your apartment to surprise you.

Eddie is very protective of you and always wants to make sure you are okay.

You can’t hide any injury from him, no matter how small it is.

Eddie calls you pet names like mi amor, mi vida or babe.

He loves to show his affection through cuddling, hugging and constant handholding.

When you found out that he is not the best cook, you started teaching him some recipes.

Eddie really enjoys cooking with you.

After you’ve been dating for a while, Eddie introduces you to Christopher.

After meeting Christopher for the first time, you and Eddie spend more time with him.

Chris and you get along very well, and he enjoys having you around, which makes Eddie very happy.

Now you spend more time at Eddie’s home.

One day Eddie thought it would be a good idea if you finally met his friends.

The whole 118 welcomed you with open arms and were very kind to you.

You’re good friends with the others, especially with Buck.

After a while, Eddie told you what happened in the army, and you were there for him when he went to therapy.

You comfort Eddie when he has a nightmare.

When you met his family, it didn’t go as planned, but his sisters were very nice to you and the day went well.

Eddie is very happy with you and you are with him.

[msgexymunson]

The Ink Shop

Description: Desperate for a job, you answer an advertisement not knowing it's a tattoo shop. It's not particularly difficult work, except for one thing: having to deal with Eddie Munson. 

Warnings: NSFW, minors DNI or I'll tell your parents, fem reader, thick sexual tension, angst and smut. Fingering. 

A/N: I finally wrote it! The teach me fic I've been day dreaming about forever. This will be part one of three, and honestly this is one of the hottest things I've written. If you enjoy it, please comment and reblog, it means the world to me. 

8k words

Masterlist Part 2

Screwing your nose up in confusion, you look at the meticulously cut snippet of newspaper neatly attached to your resume with a paperclip. Sure enough, receptionist and administrator wanted for a place called ‘The Ink Shop’. 

The outside of the building looks a little bleak, all decked out in black with frosted windows, but the fading lettering above does indeed spell out ‘The Ink Shop’. 

Weird. This does not look like a printers. 

You smooth down a minor wrinkle in your white shirt and open the door with unsure hands, the bell above ringing out loudly. 

Oh. 

This is not a printers. This is a tattoo shop. 

The thought hadn't even crossed your mind. The noise is a cacophony of buzzing, rock music and loud conversation. Art hangs on every available wall, the wallpaper underneath a royal purple, faded over time. There's frames upon frames of predesigned pieces for people to choose from, and an enormous wooden counter, black and gouged with use, directly in front of the doors. 

Taking a confidence boosting breath you march forward, pencil skirt stretching and heels clicking on the black and white linoleum, and stand by the counter. No one seems to have noticed your arrival, and a polite cough is not going to cut it. 

“Hello?” Calling out to the shop, a devilishly handsome tattooed man in a ripped band shirt, black jeans and scuffed army boots turns his head. Loose dark curls escape a low bun and swivel with him, framing his animated face. He saunters over to the counter and towers over you, giving you an appraising look. 

“You old enough to be in here sweetheart?” He asks, amused, as he points to the sign on the wall that states ‘Strictly Over 21s, no exceptions’. 

“Yes?” You're trying to be confident but it comes out as a question, entirely taken aback by the strength of his stare. 

“Oh, well then I'm Eddie,” he holds out a hand and you're forced to reach up to shake it, but to your surprise he doesn't let go. The skin is rougher than you thought it would be, and absolutely covered in small tattoos. “What is it today? Let me guess, cover up an ex boyfriend's name? I can help you forget all about him.” 

The grin he shoots back is nothing short of predatory. All you can think of is that old childhood song, never smile at a crocodile…

“No, no, I'm here about the job?” 

He looks genuinely surprised, taking in your outfit in another flagrant stare. 

“Really? You?” 

“Yes, me.” You respond, cheeks flushing in annoyance. 

“Hey, Mac!” He calls over his shoulder and a big guy with a shaved head lowers his tattoo gun, glancing over at you both. “This girl's after a job?” 

Mac stands up slowly and begins to walk over. 

“You can let go now princess.” 

Staring at Eddie dumbfoundedly, you realise his grip on your hand has softened completely. Whipping your hand away, you flash him a defiant eye. It's ineffective; he merely grins wider and winks at you, poking his tongue out playfully. You see a hint of silver, a tongue piercing. 

“Hey there, I'm Mac, the owner.” another handshake, but gentler and brief. You introduce yourself and go to hand him your resume. 

A phone rings on the counter and Mac shouts “no!” just as Eddie picks it up. 

“Mac’s Roadkill Café, from your grill to ours.” Eddie delivers the line as smooth as silk, never taking his eyes off you. “Yeah, it's Eddie, of course. Oh, I'll tell him. Thanks.” 

As Eddie turns to Mac he's given a small but effective slap to the back of the head by Mac. 

“What did I tell you, stop answering like that!” 

Eddie just grins wider and looks at you again, a fake pout on his full lips. 

“You see that? Harassment in the workplace. Wanna kiss it better?” 

Mac shuts his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose, then turns to face you again. 

“Are you immediate start?” 

“Er, yeah. I've got my resume, and references here-” 

“Listen Miss, if you can read and write, answer a phone, and put up with that-” he says, gesturing a thumb at Eddie, “then you've got the job.” 

Thank God, two of those references were your best friend with different names. Stunned, you just nod fast.

“Great. Tomorrow morning. We open at 10am.” 

Saying goodbye, you turn to exit, and risk one final glance over your shoulder. Eddie's still at the counter. A disarming wink, and then the door shuts behind you. 

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

So, not exactly what you expected, but a job's a job. After getting a degree, you'd assumed doors would open, but a string of coffee houses later and here you are. You'll take it. 

It's 9:30 am, and you stand outside, wondering whether or not to try the door. Keen, but not too keen. It's a line you're trying to toe without much experience, especially with an establishment like this. 

A pretty woman with an undercut and a butterfly neck tattoo stirs you out of your calculations. 

“Hey, I'm Chloe. You're the new girl, right? Eddie bet you'd be early.” 

Blushing at the entirely accurate first impression, you try to stop your nose scrunching in distaste. As if reading your mind, Chloe chuckles.

“Ah, don't worry about him, he's an idiot. Come on, I'll show you the ropes.” 

Chloe is the piercer that basically rents a place in the shop, where she's been for around three years, she explains. There's also Julio, who does more realistic tattoo work, and Miranda who works part time. 

Chloe turns out to be warm and welcoming, showing you how they book clients in, how to take payments, and the phone note system. It's straightforward work, stuff you'll master in no time. In fact, you feel comfortable enough by 10 am to sit at the counter on your own.

Mac arrives on time, giving you a quick check in and taking down all your information on a yellow legal pad. 

“Do you not have a computer in here?” you ask, genuinely puzzled. 

“Oh no, not yet. I don't know how to work those things, Miss.” Mac chuckles, and gets to his station to prepare for his first client.

At 10:45 am Eddie walks through the door as if he owns the place. 

Your eyes widen at his brazen lateness, but no one seems to bat an eyelid. It boils your blood; to be that disrespectful and clearly not care. How could someone act like that? 

“Hey princess, didn't think you'd come back,” he smiles, reaching for your hand. 

Oh I'm not falling for that again. 

You pull your hand into your lap, expecting trickery from him. A smug grin smears across his face at the gesture, as if he knew you'd do that. It makes you even more annoyed. 

“Eddie, the book says you start,” you say, flicking through the tome in front of you, “ah, at 10 am today.” 

“It's walk-in Wednesday sweetheart. There's no one here.” 

He's got a point. Chloe had explained the tattoo artists work a shift of Wednesdays, someone is always available for walk-ins for small and pre designed pieces. Today is Eddie's turn, and he's right, no one is here. 

“Well, there could have been,” you snark back, folding your arms. 

He crosses into the shop, pushing the little gate open and stands next to you, arms crossed. The height you had is now lost, forcing you to look up at him. 

“As far as I know, you ain't the boss of me. I suggest taking the stick out of your ass before you come here.” 

Mouth falling open in outrage, you move to reply but he's already turned away. 

“Oh, and princess, there ain't a dress code.” 

He's gone, disappearing upstairs. Blushing crimson, you cross your arms as if you can hide the conservative outfit you're wearing. 

You're beginning to see why Mac asked if you could put up with Eddie. 

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

Halfway through the day, you realise just why Mac puts up with Eddie. 

“Hey! Seeing if I can book with Eddie?” 

“Any appointments with Eddie?” 

“Just checking to see if Eddie had any cancellations?” 

It seems most calls are about him. As you check his schedule, it's not only fully booked for the next 6 months, they've even started a waiting list at the back. 

“Any walk-ins?”

The words next to your ear make you jump bodily, almost losing your place on your chair in alarm. 

“You scared me! No, I would have said,” turning to him, you're sucked into those deep brown eyes once again. “Why do you do walk-in Wednesdays if you're so… so popular?” 

Eddie flashes a smile at you, full of self importance. “I don't know sweetheart, Van Gogh wasn't made to doodle!” Shouting the last part at the back of Mac's head, he turns to you. “We just divided the shifts, so it was fair, that's all. Why, want a tattoo?” 

You roll your eyes. “No, I was just wondering.”

“Do you have any, princess?” 

“Not that it's any of your business, but no, I don't.” 

The laugh that rips from Eddie's chest is hearty and full of amusement. 

“You work in a tattoo shop and you don't have any? That's practically blasphemy!” 

The little bell above the door rings, and a nervous guy looks around before walking in. Before you see what he wants, you shout to Eddie's retreating back. 

“Van Gogh was only famous after he died, you know!” 

It's a little later on in the day; you've done a stock take, ordered more ink, and neatened up the consent sheets three times. The phone hasn't rung in a while, and you're bored out of your mind. 

Chloe walks over, coat in her hand. 

“Hey, how you getting on?” 

“I'm good, just bored.” 

She laughs, “it's not always this quiet, mid week and all. Mac's done for the day, and I'm heading off. You gonna be OK?” 

You glance over to Eddie, who to your surprise is tattooing his own fingers. 

“What, with the untrained monkey? I'll live.” 

She laughs harder at that, “he's not so bad, once you get to know him.” Lowering her voice, she whispers, “he's good at some things, you know.” The conspiratorial wink fills in what she isn't saying. Cheeks flushed, you gawp at Eddie and back at Chloe. 

“Huh? W-what, are you like, an item?” You ask, entirely thrown. 

“Oh no, he's not exactly boyfriend material. It was just one night, but bloody hell. Anyway, it's not like that anymore, we're just friends now. Maybe you two should just, you know.” 

A blush floods your face, almost reaching the roots of your hair. “I don't- I don't, do that.” 

“I'm just saying, it's an option. It'd stop the bickering at least. I can sense the tension from all the way over there.” 

Without a further word, she leaves you sitting on your stool, trying to remember how to breathe. 

Right, let's just play nice. 

Walking over to his station, you try to glimpse what he's tattooing. 

“I thought Van Gogh wasn't made to doodle” you quip, trying to keep it light. 

“This is different” he responds, not looking up at you.

“You know, that's a waste of a needle.” 

Eddie turns the machine off and rolls his eyes at you. 

“Who made you Princess of the Needles, hmmm?” 

“Mac did actually, when he asked me to check the stock,” you reply hotly, folding your arms. Stopping for a second, you take a breath. Play nice, you're supposed to be playing nice. 

“Sorry, I didn't mean to-” 

Eddie turns the machine back on and continues with his impromptu tattoo. 

“Can't you just be… professional?” You ask over the buzzing. 

“Can't you just relax for a second? No ones here. Fuck, you need to get laid.” 

Mouth dropping open in shock, you grab your bag and stomp out of the store, anger fuelling every step. 

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

Right, be calm, put together. You've dealt with worse people. 

It's true. At the coffee shop you had on edge caffeine addicts shout in your face almost on a daily basis, but none of them got under your skin like Eddie did. Then again, none of them had spat truths like venom in your face.

Breathe. Just breathe. 

Taking the leap, you walk into the shop, coffees and a tray of donuts in hand; a small peace offering. To your surprise, he is already at his station, sorting through ink pots. 

You make quick work of handing out coffee and donuts to everyone, until you reach his side. There's plastic wrap around one of his fingers, you assume from his little tattoo session yesterday. It only serves to remind you of how tetchy you were. 

“Morning Eddie.” 

“So you came back. Tough little princess ain't ya? Remove the stick from your ass yet?” The grin he flashes you is wide but there's a bite to his words. 

He's trying to rile you up, but you ignore it, thrusting a coffee at him. 

“I'll be nice if you will.” 

Tension laces the air as he stares at your outstretched hand, but he takes the coffee. 

“I'm sorry Eddie.” 

Opening the box of donuts, you gesture for him to take one. He does, stuffing half of it into his mouth. 

“What about you?” you ask.

“Huh?” He mumbles through a mouthful of crumbs. 

“Are you sorry…?” 

“What for?” 

Setting your jaw, your hand is about two seconds from slapping the shit out of him, but you need the money. So, you huff and walk away. 

“What did I do?” He huffs, shouting it to the shop. 

“You should just say sorry, you've clearly upset her.” Chloe calls over to him, a slight smile on her face. 

“Yeah, how do you know?” 

“You upset everyone Eddie.” She laughs, and stands to greet her first client. 

It's a tense kind of day, with neither you nor Eddie backing down, only speaking to each other if absolutely necessary. By the time everyone's left it's just you and him again. 

He's finishing up with a client, telling them about aftercare as they gush about their new ink. It's difficult to deny, the guy is talented. This phoenix tattoo looks like it's popping right off of the skin, the flames so bright and detailed you could swear you saw them move. 

Once they've left, there's an awkward pause. Eddie breaks the silence first. 

“Listen, I'm sorry sweetheart. I shouldn't have been rude to you. So I'll make you a deal. I'll give you a tattoo, for free, and we ask each other questions, get to know each other. What do you say?” 

Smiling in spite of yourself, you turn to face him. “And why would I want a tattoo?” 

He visibly relaxes at your grin, and flashes one of his own. “Come on, I'm the best. I promise I'll be gentle.” 

“We close at six, so it'll have to wait.” 

Eddie looks at the clock, and bobs his head with each tick. Twenty seconds later he turns to you, eyebrows raised.

“Fine, I suppose it is a bit silly to work in a tattoo shop with no ink.” 

He punches the air with glee, forcing you to smile despite your better judgement. 

“Well then, what are you thinking, got any ideas in mind?” 

“I want a heart on my hip” he groans, putting his face in his hands, “hang on, before you judge, I want one like this.” 

Pulling a book from your bag, you turn to the page neatly bookmarked. It's an anatomical heart from a textbook you own, a line and dot drawing.

“Oh.” Eddie's eyes light up, “that's pretty metal, actually. So, you just happen to have this on you?” 

“No, I've been thinking about it for a while. It's… not what people would expect. And when I got the job here, I was working up the courage to get it. Carrying around the book was a promise to myself, I think.” 

He busies himself with getting a stencil ready, the drawing supplied speeding up the process. 

“Right, climb on up princess, show me where you want it.”

Blushing, you unzip your skirt at the back and roll it down slightly, shifting your blouse up high. The smile Eddie gives you is salacious, but he doesn't say a word. 

“Right here?” Softly his fingertips graze you, making you jump. That simple act crackles over your skin in an electricity unknown to you. 

“Y-yes,” you practically whisper it, face crimson. 

“So, questions. Can I go first?” 

“Sure” you nod, feeling vulnerable flashing this much skin. 

“OK,” he starts, pressing the stencil down, “I'll start with an easy one. How old are you?” 

“23.” 

He nods, prepping the needle, “your turn princess.” 

“How old are you?” 

“Ah, copycat,” he grins, testing the gun, the sudden noise making you jump, “I'm 30 sweetheart. I know, I look younger.” 

Act younger is more like it. 

“I'm gonna start, you still alright?” 

“Uh huh.” 

“Atta girl. It'll feel like a scratch.” 

He leans forward as his words burn your insides. Atta girl? Part of you wanted to tell him you're not a fucking horse, but another, deeper, part keens at the praise, kicking it's feet and twirling its hair like some dizzy schoolgirl.

The needle touches and you jump, but it's fine. It's easy. If anything, it's rather nice? You gasp at the feeling, your feet wiggling. 

“Right, next question. Why here, why this job?” 

The gun is moving across your skin, consuming all rational thought. You could lie, but a part of you feels like he'd know somehow. 

“I thought it was a printers shop, or a copy place.” 

He laughs briefly, but continues to focus on your new ink. 

“I knew it. Pretty, innocent thing like you, wandering into this den of depravity? Too good to be true.” 

Glazing over his comment, you think of a question to ask. 

“How did you start working here?” 

Eddie scoffs and turns off his machine for a moment, “you need to get creative, stop using my questions.” 

“I really want to know!” You say, meeting his derisory look. 

“Fine, quid pro quo and all that shit. Been here seven years. I begged. I begged Mac for an apprenticeship everyday for a week. He gave in, and here I am. Ask something else, that was boring.” 

You wrack your brains, trying to think of something original, far too aware of the steadying hand that he's pushing onto your abdomen. 

“What band is that?” 

It's the only thing that pops into your mind. He follows your eye line to his t-shirt. 

“Oh this? This is my band, Corroded Coffin. You should come see us sometime.” 

“Oh, what do you play?” 

His face lights up, “I sing, and play guitar. That's why my fingers are so rough-” he holds one up, covered in black latex, “-oh yeah, gloves.” 

After you both share a chuckle, there's a breath of quiet between you, except for the sound of the tattoo gun.

“My turn,” he says, smiling at your hip, “I gotta know, are you a virgin?” 

It's a miracle that he's as responsive as he is, since the question knocks you sideways. You sit up in shock, but he's already moved the needle off and away. 

“You can't just ask that, it's… it's rude!” you splutter, face glowing red. 

There's no trace of apology on his face. In fact, his grin only widens with your reply. 

“I thought so. Don't worry, I'm not gonna tease you about it.” 

Laying back down, you try to think of something to say, but it just doesn't arrive. He can read you like an open book and it's deeply unsettling, not to mention embarrassing. 

“Your turn princess.” 

“I don't want to play anymore.” 

“Oh come on, I'm being nice! Ask me something.” 

“Fine. What was your last wet dream about?” 

To your dismay, he smiles yet again.

“You, sweetheart.” 

Huffing, you cross your arms in annoyance. “Fine, don't answer.” 

He's focusing on your tattoo, tongue poking out in concentration, “I'm nearly done, then you can go back to hating me.” 

“I don't hate you. I've never hated anyone,” you respond in truth. Eddie's eyebrows raise, but he remains focused. 

“Really? You must have had a much better childhood than mine.”

It's quiet for a bit. You're not sure how to respond to that, feeling the cloud of his memory hanging thickly in the air between you. 

“All done.” 

“Huh?” 

He chuckles and points at your new ink, “take a look.” 

It's beautiful. All line and dot work, like it was pulled from the book itself and glued to your hip. 

“It's amazing Eddie. Thank you.” 

The grin he shoots you is warm as he wraps your new ink and then removes his gloves. “No problem. I'll lock up, the sheets on aftercare are right there. But you knew that.” 

Smiling affectionately, you take one and stand up, hovering for a second. 

“Eddie what do I owe-” 

“-not a damn thing. See you in the morning, princess.”

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

The next few days were much more pleasant. Eddie was flirty, yes, but he seemed to understand when to stop. You had been nicer to him, biting back on the comments when you could. There was a rhythm to it, a constant dance of him flustering you and you annoying him. 

Things really felt like they were falling into place. Until Eddie decided to cross the line. 

Walk in Wednesday again, and the shop was dead. Julio was on shift, sitting in the back having a nap. 

“Hey Mac, can I ask you something?” 

“Sure, what is it Miss?” 

“Well, how do people know about our Wednesdays?” 

“Mostly word of mouth. We handed out flyers before, but it didn't really pick up. Honestly, I'm thinking of scrapping it.” He shrugs, taking a sip of coffee. 

“Before you do, I have an idea. I can design some flyers, get them out to the coffee shop I used to work at. It's by campus, I'm sure a few students would jump at the chance. You could offer a student discount, get them in the door?” You stare at him wide eyed, hoping he likes the idea. The little speech was one you'd practised about fourteen times before actually saying it to him. 

He stares at you for a moment, then smiles. “You know, that's a good idea. I like it. Tell you what, you make it a success and I'll give you a raise.” 

“Oh, thank you! I'll get on it.” You beam, and start planning the flyer. 

Ten minutes later you have your head down, your attention entirely on the paper in front of you. The noisy shop was purely a background soundtrack, including the approaching footsteps. Then, there's a whisper, directly in your ear. 

“What you up to, princess?” 

“Fuck!” 

You scream it out and jump so high you fall off your stool. Eddie's in bits, laughing so hard he's clutching his stomach. 

“I'm sorry I didn't mean to,” he says, looking the least sorry you've ever seen a person look. 

Clambering off the floor to berate him, your mouth flops open when you hear a rip. As you desperately turn your head to look down, you see where your pencil skirt has torn right next to the seam nearly up to your ass. 

“Fuck's sake Eddie! What the hell am I gonna do!” 

Hands shaking, you clench your jaw in panic, trying to frantically come up with a way to rectify it. Eddie holds his hands up to you as if he were approaching a wild animal. 

“Just calm down princess, it's only a skirt.” 

Pouting, you hit him on the arm. 

“It's not just a skirt! I can't work like this, how can I go home and change, I won't be able to fix it and-” 

Eddie smiles and holds one of your hands. 

“It's gonna be OK, we can sort something out. You seriously need to chill, have a big O or something.” He chuckles, clearly meaning for it to be a joke, but it's hitting too close to home. 

It's never happened for you. You've kissed guys, sure, but whenever they reach into your pants, it's either uncomfortable or downright painful. Even your own desperate fumblings haven't got you there. Most of the time you just feel stupid and awkward trying to touch yourself. So, you'd given up, thinking you're broken. That it'll never happen for you. 

Tears well immediately in your eyes. He knows he fucked up, it's written all over his face. As he opens his mouth to speak you rip your hand from his grasp and run to the restroom sobbing. 

It's stupid, it's so stupid. You know that, but the tears won't stop falling, face hot and scrunched as you sit on the closed toilet seat with your head in your hands. Your breath is heavy, gulping and wet; you dimly wonder if you can just stay here until the shop closes.

There's a gentle knock on the door. 

“Sweetheart, can I come in?” It's Eddie, voice softer than you've ever heard it. 

“Go away” you manage. It's shaky and pathetic sounding, but it's out there. 

“I'm not going anywhere. Talk to me, you'll feel better, I promise.” 

He tries the door, turning the handle before you get a chance to lock it. Jumping upright, you go to push him away but he grabs your wrist and pulls you into him. His embrace takes away that edge and pretty soon you're just sobbing into his chest. 

As he strokes the back of your head, he makes shushing noises, his other arm wrapped tight around your shoulders. You're not sure how long you stay like that, in the warmth of his hold, his body pressed against yours. The tenderness calms you down until your tears stop, but he doesn't pull away. 

After a while, he whispers, “feel a little better?” 

“Y-yeah,” you say, voice returning to itself. 

Only then does he release you, rubbing a thumb under your eye to wipe moisture away. 

“I didn't mean to hurt you. You wanna go somewhere and talk about it?” 

“I- I've never- I don't talk about- I-” you shake your head as if to clear it. A part of you wants to hit him, to shout at him, but his gaze is so concerned that you agree. Your shoulders slump, losing a bit of tension. “OK.” 

Smiling at you, he whips his flannel shirt off, leaving him in a white vest, and ties it around your waist. 

“For your modesty. Come with me.” 

Puzzled, you follow him out of the bathroom and back into the shop where Mac is sitting looking worried. 

“What's going-” 

Eddie interrupts, “emergency late lunch needed, alright? Can you cancel my 3 o clock?” 

Mac seems confused, but looks at Eddie's earnest face, and your emotional one, and nods. 

“Not a problem.” 

“Thanks, man.” 

Before you can ask where you're going, he pulls you from the shop by the arm and across the street into a dimly lit bar, depositing you in the nearest booth. 

“I'll be right back.” 

If he's uncomfortable by his appearance, he doesn't show it. The way he strides up to the bar, it's as if he owns the place. It's remarkable, the sheer confidence he embodies like a second skin. 

“Hey, John!” He hollers, knuckles knocking on the wood of the bar. 

John appears, a gruff, stocky guy with a buzz cut and a sour face. 

“What the fuck are you doing here.” 

“Oh come on, you know you missed me.” 

John's face screws into something akin to a smile. “What do you want, you little shit.” 

“I love it when you talk dirty,” Eddie grins and winks, “two beers please.” 

A grunt and a nod, and John puts the beers down on the bar. As Eddie reaches for his wallet John waves a hand in dismissal. 

“Put that away boy, your money ain't good here. Besides, your lady friend looks like she needs it.” 

You flush and tear your eyes away, embarrassed. Eddie walks back over and puts a beer in front of you. 

“Eddie, we're still working I-” 

“It's one beer. It's alright.” 

You shrug and take a sip, nodding at the bartender, “he knows I'm upset, do I look a mess?” 

Shaking his head so hard it releases some of his wayward waves from their confines, he tips his beer at you, before he takes a long chug. 

“No,” he says enthusiastically, “you look just as pretty as you always do.” 

Scoffing, you turn your eyes downward. Eddie ignores your response, instead pressing on what happened earlier. 

“Sorry again,” he says, sounding genuinely distressed, "I don't want to see anyone hurt from something I said, least of all you.” 

Meeting his gaze, you smile incredulously. “Oh? And why me?” 

“Come on, don't make me say it.” 

Staring at him, you fold your arms in an act of defiance. He rolls his eyes and looks at you. 

“I like you. You're uptight, and mean to me, and a little conceited, but I like you. I don't want you to hurt. Can we just be friends? I'm a pretty good listener, you know? I can help.” 

Heat floods your insides. Eyes scanning him for any sign of a joke, you come up empty. 

‘I'm not conceited,” you counter weakly, clinging on to the familiar push and pull. 

“And I'm the Easter bunny.” 

Giggling, you take another sip of beer. 

“Come on, friends? Talk to me.” 

Sighing deeply, you fix your gaze at the table, forefinger tracing patterns in the condensation from your drink. “Promise not to laugh?” 

“I promise.” 

You can't tell how genuine he's being, as you don't dare look at his face, nerves controlling your every limb. His voice seems honest enough. 

“I- I have a problem, something I can't physically do. You reminded me of it. It's not your fault.” Shrugging in an attempt to make this look less serious than it is for you, you take a pull out of your beer bottle once more.

“Wait, are you saying…” he chuckles a little in disbelief, “have you never… had an orgasm before?” 

“Eddie, be quiet!” You urgently whisper, looking around the bar. 

“No one's listening sweetheart, no spies in here,” he says in a low tone, hand reaching out to grasp yours. Your first instinct is to shake his hand away but he holds firm, rough fingertips rubbing against your knuckles. 

“Eddie, I'm broken,” you whimper, voice breaking, “I can't do it.” 

“Oh sweetheart,” he responds, chock full of emotion, “you're not broken. You are perfect.” 

Pulling your hand away, you keep your eyes away from his, unwilling to meet that burning gaze of his. Unwilling to lose yourself in those sultry dark eyes. 

“I can't do it. Anytime some guy tries, it hurts. I've given up to be honest. I just wasn't made for it.” 

He laughs again, dragging his hand over his face. 

“Fuck, sweetheart, the problem ain't you. Have you- have you tried, fixing it, on your own?” The last part is a whisper, you assume to protect your feelings. 

“Yeah, but I just feel stupid and awkward. I don't know.” 

There's a little silence between you as you both dwell in the suffocating fog of your confession, neither of you willing to clear it. 

“Listen, this may be way out of your comfort zone, but I'm saying it anyway. If you don't like it, we'll forget it, and I won't mention it again.” 

Finally looking at him, at the vulnerability on his face, you nod, not trusting your voice. 

“I can… maybe I can help you. Show you you're not broken? As a favour between friends.” 

You laugh mirthlessly and finish your beer. “That's a little more than a favour, Eddie.” 

“We can keep it professional.” 

You stare at him wide eyed. His messy hair and dark glittering eyes. At the way he slumps in his seat like a king or a delinquent, you can't decide which. At his taunt frame, the tattoos spackling every available inch of his skin. Your eyebrows raise of their own accord. 

“Professional? You?” 

“Yeah, me! I can do it, you know. I could make you come.” 

A shiver forces its merry way down your spine at his words. 

“You're really confident.” 

“You haven't seen what I can do.” 

Blushing hard, you attempt to control yourself. “Look, if we're going to do this, I need you to promise some things.” 

“Ah, of course, you would have rules,” he grins, as he leans back and spreads in his seat, “continue.” 

Searching your mind for a moment, you try to glean what you need. 

“First of all, we need to be discreet, and professional at all times, clear?” 

“As crystal,” he grins wolfishly, “anything else?” 

“Yeah- I think,” you wrack your brains, trying to come up with something that would make this less intimate. Anything. But the roguish nature of his presence makes it hard to even think of a thing. Finally, your eyes widen at the idea that suddenly crosses your mind. 

“Final rule. No kissing.” 

He pouts, looking at your chest and back up, “no kissing anywhere?” 

“N-no, no kissing on the mouth.” 

Grin returning, he winks at you, a gesture that flips your stomach inside out. 

“Kinky. Alright, deal,” he leans forward to give his hand to yours. A hand covered in ink and calluses. Roughness and tenderness. 

You shake it.

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

For the next couple of days, your little arrangement isn't brought up. A wild thought hammers itself into your mind; either he wasn't serious, or you imagined it. 

Those theories are put to bed on day three. 

After you let Mac know about the flyers and the bonus poster you designed, you sit back and enjoy the praise given to you. It's funny, the feeling of being told a job has been well done makes you happier than you care to admit.

Eddie turns up at the counter, whistling through his teeth. “Sweet looking flyers, how'd you swing those?” 

“I designed them. I've got a degree in design and marketing, if you didn't know,” you sniff, rearranging the stationary on the counter to avoid his eyes. 

“Maybe you could help me design some for my band. These look pretty metal.” He says, picking one up and looking at it closely. 

“Maybe.” 

Eddie leans in close, so close you feel the warmth of his breath on your cheek. 

“If you're still up for our arrangement, I'm free tonight.” 

Heat immediately flushes your face. Ignoring him entirely, you write your address and a time on a notepad, and thrust the paper into his hands. 

“Covert, I like it. See you then princess.” 

By the time 9pm rolls around you're a jittery mass of nerves, having changed clothes no less than four times, tidied your apartment, changed the bedsheets and paced so much you're surprised there's not a groove in the floorboards. 

In the end you'd decided on a baggy band t-shirt and your sleep shorts. It was a rational calculation to make Eddie think you're just wearing what you usually would at home and therefore show you're not nervous. I mean, you are wearing what you'd usually wear at home. He didn't need to know about how long it took you to reach that decision. 

The sound of the intercom buzzing sends your pulse into overdrive. Pressing the button, you let out a strangled “Hello?” 

“Hey princess.” 

“Come on up.” 

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck…

A soft knock at the door and you count to five, trying to remember how to breathe. When you open the door, you're stunned. He's leaning on the doorframe in a fucking button up shirt. It's black, and clings to him deliciously. His hair looks a little damp, loose around his shoulders, and his aftershave is making you feel dizzy. 

“Oh, you didn't need- I mean-” you point at his shirt, and he looks down and chuckles. 

“Just came from band practice. Took a shower, and this was clean,” he shrugs and shoulders into your apartment. “Nice place. Where's all your stuff?” 

You look around at your sparse apartment. Everything in order, down to the fresh flowers on your tiny dining table. 

“This is all my stuff,” you say, confused, “I don't like clutter.” 

He chuckles, walking over to you. “No wonder I annoy you. I am clutter.” 

He's close now, close enough so that you have to look up to see his face. His rough fingers ghost your arm, sending a wave of goosebumps over your skin. 

“Nice seeing you in something casual. L7, right?” He asks, pointing at the t-shirt. 

“Yeah, you know who they are?” 

“I'm surprised you do. Thought you'd be a Mariah Carey kinda girl.” 

You scrunch your face in distaste. “No, not at all. You don't know everything about me.” 

He leans in, warm breath a whisper in your ear. “I know some things about you.” 

Squirming hotly, you lead him to your room before you lose your nerve. 

“So, the princess's bedchamber. It's nice,” he remarks, flopping down on the bed as if it were his own. 

“Take your boots off,” you snip, folding your arms. 

“Ah, there she is.” He smiles, but does as instructed. Once more he's laying back into your scattered pillows looking perfectly at ease. You, on the other hand, stand there, spine a vertical rod as you stare back at him. 

 “Come on then, sit down.” 

Nervously you sit at the foot of the bed with your legs crossed. 

“Now princess, what do you do when you touch yourself?” 

Blushing furiously, you stammer out, “what, do you expect me to like, show you?” 

He chuckles, diffusing some of the tension. “As much as I'd like that, I don't think you're ready for that kinda shit. Just tell me, what's your thought process?” 

Staring at him for a little too long, you open your mouth and close it again. He rolls his eyes. 

“Look, if you want me to help I'll help, but you gotta give me something here.” He looks as if he's about to get up and leave; your arm shoots out on its own accord, grabbing his leg to stop him. 

“Sorry, sorry. I just, I've never spoken about this kinda stuff. I don't know about any process, I just… reach down and fiddle around?” You blush even more. 

“So you don't like, watch anything? Or read anything?” He looks a little amused.

“What on earth are you talking about?” 

“Porn, sweetheart.” 

It's so blunt that you jump a little. “Oh no, I've never, oh no no.” 

“Christ,” he whispers, “right, you can like, set the mood. Look at something to turn you on? It'd probably help you feel less awkward.” 

“Oh. Right.” 

“And do you ever just like, slouch? I feel like I'm back at school looking at ya.” 

“Huh?” 

“Just, come here.” He pats the little space between his spread legs and you hesitate for a second before you crawl over to him. 

“How do you want me to sit, like cross legged or-” 

He grabs your hips and spins you, forcing your back into his crotch.

“Stop trying to control every little thing,” he says in a hard tone, one you're too embarrassed to admit makes your insides tingle. Softer, he continues. “Look, if you're ever gonna get there you need to relax, stop trying to control it, and stop overthinking.” 

“Great, all of the things I'm shit at.” 

His laugh is loud, it vibrates into your spine. “I'll help you, OK? You trust me?” 

“In a very limited sense of the word, yeah.” 

“Lemme rephrase. You still OK to do this?” 

“Yeah.”

“Good. Just relax.” 

You're not sure what you are expecting, but it certainly isn't his hands winding into your hair, fingertips rubbing softly at your scalp. It shoots tingles down your spine, your entire head feeling fuzzy and warm. 

You stifle a whimper, biting your lip. His fingers stop. 

“If you want to make noises, you can. Tells me I'm doing a good job. That goes for everything else too, alright?” 

“Alright.” You whisper. 

“You comfortable?” 

“Yeah it's just- well-”

“Tell me.” 

“I think it's your shirt buttons, they're digging into my back a bit,” you admit, feeling the sharp points down your spine. 

“Easily fixed.” He taps your arm and you lean forward. Some rustling, and he throws his shirt to the foot of your bed. 

“Now just chill sweetheart.” 

His fingers begin rubbing at you again, thumbs sinking low to pop at the bubbles in your neck. 

“Fuck, that's really nice.” 

He hums appreciatively, working his hands lower and dropping them to your shoulders. The massaging continues, and you feel yourself melting, your body moulding into his. Your legs, once ramrod straight, have bent a little and parted of their own accord, the muscles loosening. Even your breathing has slowed. 

“That's better, atta girl,” he says and you whine at the words, a little pathetic mewling sound that tumbles past your lips.

“Oh, you like that, don't you?” The smile is evident in his voice, a smug tone smeared liberally across each word. 

“You, you're so-” you begin, but his hand drags across the front of your shirt, just over the tops of your breasts.

“I'm so what?” He whispers in your ear.

“So, so arrogant,” you huff. He laughs, a husky chuckle, and dances the tips of his fingers over your clothed nipple. Gasping, you grasp at his thighs either side of you.

“Yeah? What else am I?” He says, nibbling at your earlobe. 

“You- you're cocky, and- and self assured- Oh God!” 

Rudely interrupted by him tweaking your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, you swear, back arching off of him for a moment. 

“You know,” he says in a gravelly tone directly in your ear, “those are pretty much the same thing.” 

“You drive me crazy,” you huff, squirming a little against him as his hands explore your chest over your shirt.

“Good crazy or bad crazy?” He smiles, then bites softly at your neck. 

“I- I haven't decided yet.” 

“Good. I can say the same about you,” he admits, his hands trailing lower, pulling your shirt up so he can stroke at your bare sides. The touch of fingertips on your skin sends a river of sensations through you that run deep into your core. 

“Are you going to- what are you doing, exactly?” You breathe, starting to move against him. 

“I'm warming you up sweetheart. Why, don't you like it?” 

Genuinely curious, you try to ask what you want to know without using the words. 

 “N- no, I do. Do you have to, erm, get warmed up? When you, you know.” 

He lets out a little huff of a laugh. “Guys are a little less… complicated, than girls. For the most part.” 

“Oh. OK, so you can just. I mean, you just, get excited?” Your breathing becomes more ragged when the tip of his thumb grazes the underside of your breast. 

“Sweetheart, I got hard seeing you in these little shorts.” Running a finger down your stomach, he lightly pings the elastic of your sleep shorts as if to accentuate his point. 

“Really?” 

There's no denying it when he moves his hips up and you feel his solid bulge press into the small of your back. 

“Really. Can I take this off?” He asks, twisting the hem of your shirt in one hand. 

“Yeah.” It's a whisper. You're a little scared of being bare chested, but not having to see his face helps. Plus, he's wound you up so much you're on the verge of begging for his touches, pleading for more. 

He guides your top up, up, up, revealing you slowly. Coaxing it over your head, you move your arms up so he can remove it. It ends up in a heap on top of his shirt. One tattooed arm wraps around your waist, pulling you toward him more, his hardness pushing against your ass. 

His breathing is unsteady as he grinds his hips, pushing onto you further. Gasping, your fingers are vices, firmly attached to his thighs in a vain attempt to anchor you. 

Suddenly his hand is winding into your hair, tugging your head aside so he can run a fat tongue across your neck. You shudder at the sensation, feeling the hard ball of his tongue piercing against your throat When he takes his pillowy lips and sucks at the spot between your neck and shoulder a moan slips out. Grunting in approval, his hands are on your bare tits, fingers pinching at your hardened nipples. 

“Holy hell!” 

He laughs, running rough fingers down your body, circling your new ink, then dipping down past your waistband. Those tattooed fingers barely brush your pubic hair, teasing you, then glide back up to your stomach. 

“Eddie, please.” 

Your voice is small, not your own. Eddie groans low in your ear, rubbing his length into the fat of your ass.

“Fuck, princess, I like you saying my name like that. You want me to touch you right here?” he says, pressing down hard over your clothed clit. 

The sheer relief of having his touch where you need it gets you close to tears; a gulping shudder of a sob rips from deep in your chest. 

“See, you're not broken, sweetheart. Can I take these off?” 

Shaking, you hook your fingers into your sleep shorts and pull them down your legs, air hitting your most intimate area. Eddie huffs in your ear, his inked hands rubbing up the insides of your thighs. 

“You're so fuckin’ sexy.”

Before you can retort, his fingers dip down to your entrance, gathering your slick. You can hear how wet you are, but it's not in you to think about it. You can't think, only feel. 

When his fingers run up and start rubbing circles into your clit, your response is visceral. Bucking up, you chase the feeling, searching for even more. 

“I'm gonna slip a finger in, alright princess?” 

You nod, waiting for the pain, wincing before it even starts.

“It's OK, you're fine, you gotta relax baby.” He strokes your stomach with his free hand, pressing kisses to your temple. 

The tip of his finger breaches you, and the pain doesn't come. Your soaking wet cunt invites him in, warm and pulsing with arousal. He slips it into the hilt, his palm pressing into your clit, and your moan is long and loud. It's never felt like this. Never has it stoked a fire in your gut, bubbled your insides like pop rocks and Coke, turned you into a writhing mess. 

He fucks his finger into you, slipping a second in to join the first, and you move your hips, chasing the building tightness in your belly. Each thrust of his hand has you bucking, and in turn rubbing against his member trapped within its denim prison. 

“That's it, good fuckin’ girl.” His voice is strained, as if he's trying hard not to lose control. 

“Eddie, oh fuck, f-feels so- good, yes, please, please-” 

You're not sure what you're begging for, and Eddie doesn't seem to be in any state to ask, but it doesn't matter. His fingers fuck into you in earnest, stroking hard against some spot inside that has you babbling and quivering around him. 

“God, you're so tight, this little cunts gonna drive me crazy. So wet and perfect, Jesus Christ.”

The feeling seems too much and not enough, and it grows higher and higher, flooding your body with a pleasure so intense you're sure you black out. The only thing you're aware of is your voice screaming out his name as your body thrusts wildly into his grip. Finally, it dissipates, your body melting against his form, sweating and spent. 

You take a breath, and another, trying to gather your wits enough to speak. Eddie speaks first.

“So sweetheart, everything you dreamed it would be?” He asks as he strokes your hair. 

“Better. Fuck, Eddie. Thank you.” 

“Anytime. Seriously. Any. Time. Day, night, weekends, holidays-” 

You giggle, slapping his thigh, and sit up, grabbing your discarded shirt to cover up. 

“Sorry, that was probably a little er, frustrating for you.” You say as you glance at his bare torso, drinking in the sight with your eyes for the first time. He's lean, but ripped, a faint sheen of sweating making his tattoos glisten in the low light. 

“What do you mean sweetheart?” 

“Well, doing that, not getting anything in return...” 

He chuckles lightly, “Oh I wouldn't say that,” he glances down, gesturing to his jeans, “full disclosure, I came in my pants.” 

“Really?” your eyes widen, staring at him with disbelief. 

“I ain't lying. Wanna check?” He waggles his eyebrows at you, making you laugh again. 

“You seem better already. Right, I better go.” 

Shoulders deflating, you pout, “I suppose you better.” 

“Hey don't look at me like that. I hoped that helped. Sleep tight, drink some water. I'll see you tomorrow princess.” 

And just like that, he leaves. Of course he leaves, it was just a deal you struck, nothing more. A favour. you wipe stray tears from your eyes and try not to focus on the sound of the front door shutting. 

As you collapse on the bed, exhausted, you think about his hands, his words. There's something screaming inside, telling you you're playing with fire, but as you drift off you can't find it in you to mind.

Taglist

@liminalpebble @eddies-puppet @rip-quizilla @micheledawn1975 @vanilla-demon @millercontracting @roanniom @josephquinnsfreckles @leelei1980 @mrsjellymunson @usedtobecooler @eddiesprincess86 @ali-r3n @choke-me-eddie @littlebebebunny @big-ope-vibes

[allagogtoreblog]

[trashmouth-richie]

💭 and what if i posted an alternate ending idea i had planned out for honey i’m home? basically changing everything after vol. 12.

[jimraisedmeup]

TICK // 5.1 - how soon is now?

Rating: mature (homophobia, angst, language, sexual content)

Word Count: 2700

☾

I am the son And the heir Of a shyness that is criminally vulgar I am the son and heir Of nothing in particular

☾

December 1983 - junior year

Stepping off of the school bus with Robin close behind you, you immediately began scanning the Hawkins High parking lot for Eddie and his beat up van.

And there he was.

Leaning casually against the side of his van, one leg propped up on the tire. It was hard to miss the unusual creature that called himself Eddie Munson.

You tugged on Robin's backpack strap. "See you later, yeah? Cover for me with Mom and Dad if I'm not back by dinner," thinking for a moment, you laughed. "Actually, maybe consider calling Hopper if I mysteriously disappear after this."

Robin chuckled, "He does have a legitimate kidnapper's van. But hey, maybe he'll try to lure you in with free candy or puppies."

Sticking out her pinky finger to you, your sister hooked it around yours before saying goodbye.

Normally, you would exit the school bus each morning and look around for Nancy, or maybe Chrissy Cunningham, who you were friends with briefly in middle school. You used to look for Barb, too, with her glowing red hair and kind smile. 

You assumed Nancy was with Steve Harrington and their group. Lately, the popular crowd had been irking you, making the base of your skull ache with apprehension. The idea of them not being quality friends and judging you behind your back made you think of your parents. 

You did a lot of thinking in your spare time - about your family, school, stuff like that. You were naturally an overthinker. That's why you picked at your fingers so much.

Most of your thoughts that week were more focused on your social life, though, including the crazy-haired boy that stumbled into your line of attention by simply giving you a tattoo and being genuine.

You wanted that for yourself. You wanted to feel comfortable in your own skin. You wanted Robin to feel comfortable in her own skin, too. How long had they been conforming to the mold your parents put them in, for fear of chastisement? Or, in Robin's case, conversion therapy.

Shaking your head and vowing to start a new day, you meandered over to Eddie. You wondered if he would ever not look slightly shocked when you talked to him in public.

"Good morning, sunshine. To what do I owe the pleasure?" 

He sipped on a paper cup of what looked like black coffee, eyeing you through the steam that was coming off the hot liquid. You tried not to stare at his lips as he licked them.

"Wanna ditch school with me today?" you said quickly.

☾

You shut your mouth How can you say I go about things the wrong way?

☾

Ten minutes into driving and you were already bickering with each other. 

Eddie couldn't keep his mouth shut. And you couldn't stop your fiery temper from taking the bait.

"...all I'm saying is, I don't understand why you're friends with those jocks."

You huffed for what felt like the millionth time, looking out the window of his van. "And I told you already, I'm not really friends with them. Nancy, yeah, but not the guys."

"And why not?"

Eyes wide, you snapped a little. "You just asked me why I'm friends with them. Now you're asking me why I'm not?"

The grin on Eddie's face was contagious, apparently, almost making you smile back. His outrageous, carefree attitude reminded you of why you wanted to skip school with him to begin with.

"Fine, fine. New question."

"Great," you replied with heavy sarcasm.

"What about me?" Eddie kept his eyes on the road, but glanced your way for a split second. "Why the hell are we suddenly hanging out with each other?"

"Because I asked you to ditch school with me today," you replied simply. 

"Thanks, Captain Obvious, but you know what I meant."

The girl in his passenger seat thought for a minute or two, trying to find the right words. You knew he deserved some kind of explanation. Especially after kissing him out of nowhere at the party. Hell, he probably thought you were a typical popular kid playing a prank on him.

You picked absentmindedly at the stray fibers sticking out of the woven seat cover. 

"I dunno, I feel like I can trust you, in a way. Like you're not going to run off and tell the whole school all the juicy details."

"I don't kiss and tell, Buckley."

You waved in his direction. "Exactly. Thanks for not telling anyone about the tattoo, either."

Eddie seemed unusually serious for a moment. "No problem."

"You know, I'm sure it would take less than a day for Carol Perkins to spread rumors about me if she had the right ammo for it. She's always had it out for me. And I never did shit to her!"

The boy beside you chuckled. "It's because you're prettier than her. And a lot less annoying," he paused before adding one last comment. "Not to mention her boyfriend Tommy drools over you every chance he gets."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously. You never noticed?"

"Well… no. He's a douchebag."

The van was at a stoplight in the middle of downtown. Though the weather was bitterly cold, you could still see shoppers walking along the storefronts.

"So, I've recently come into some money," Eddie began. "Ten whole dollars to be exact. What do you think about grabbing some hot chocolate?"

The corners of your lips lifted into a smile. "Sure."

He rounded the corner, pulling up to the nearly empty small diner. 

Over two cups of hot chocolate, with extra whipped cream for you, the two teenagers chatted happily. 

It felt natural for you. For the first time since you could remember, you felt comfortable. Your sharp edges softened. The wall you had built up to shield your heart was still standing strong, but there was a tiny window on it that you allowed Eddie Munson to peer through.

You learned about the love he had for his guitar, the dreams he had for his future in the music business. You learned, sadly, that he didn't get along with his dad and that his mother left when Eddie was just a kid.

And most importantly, he made you laugh. Usually, Robin was the only one who could do that. But the difference between Eddie and Robin was that you had the natural urge to protect your little sister. You didn't burden Robin with any more stress than she already had to deal with. 

With Eddie, you looked at him as an equal, and maybe you didn't have to hide your deep, dark thoughts. 

A few hours later, you both made your way back to Eddie's van.

"You know, I've never driven a car before."

The leather-clad boy stopped dead in his tracks, one pale hand resting on the hood of the van.

"Come again?"

"I can't drive. No one's ever taught me," you tugged on the passenger side door handle. "Pick your jaw up off the floor and unlock the van! I'm freezing, dingus."

Finally inside with the heat blasting through the old vents, Eddie turned to you as you rubbed your hands together furiously. 

"Well, there's only one thing left to do now."

For a second, seeing the look on his mischievous face, you were scared that he was going to kiss you. Well, scared was the wrong word. 

You definitely wanted to kiss him again. A part of you wanted to re-do the first kiss. It shouldn't have been a quick peck on the lips in the dark, only for you to run away afterwards. You figured it was a necessity to get the first kiss over with, though. Now, you wanted another one, but maybe with a bit more... romance? 

Ugh, you thought inwardly. Romantic wasn't a word to describe you or Eddie fucking Munson.

But he didn't kiss you. He reached a calloused finger towards you and booped you on the nose like a little kid.

"I'm gonna teach you how to drive, Buckley."

☾

I am human and I need to be loved Just like everybody else does

☾

"Slow down! Pump the brakes."

"I'm trying!"

"The hell you're not!"

"Stop being an ass! We're fine."

Eddie spoke deliberately, face calm. "Put your foot on the brakes before you kill the both of us."

He was just giving you shit, because in reality, you were just fine. He took you to a large abandoned factory that had an expansive parking lot to practice driving in. There was nothing even slightly close for you to crash into.

If Eddie was being totally honest, the sight of a woman, specifically you, behind the wheel of his beloved van was enough to drive him wild. After spending nearly an entire day with the spunky Buckley girl, his spank bank was overflowing.

He never even let Gareth or any of his friends drive the van. Besides his guitar, it was his most prized possession.

He couldn't possibly pass up the opportunity to teach you how to drive. It was like taking someone’s virginity - it can only be done to a person once. Eddie felt honored to be the first to teach you, even if he never ended up being any other firsts for you. But he had to slap those thoughts into oblivion as his jeans suddenly felt tight, causing him to sigh and fog up the window beside him.

What better than a day of hooky, hot chocolate, and reckless driving?

After a while of cruising at an insane speed of five miles per hour, you seemed to get more comfortable with pressing gently on the gas pedal and then alternating to the brakes. You were pretty good with the steering but your lead foot needed Jesus.

You slowed to a complete stop, shifting into park. "See? I told you we were fine."

"Hey, I just gotta look out for my precious… Brenda here," Eddie replied, rubbing his hand on the sun-bleached dashboard.

You stared at the boy, a smile tickling your lips. "Did you just make up that name?"

He tried to keep a straight face, but busted out laughing. "Yeah, I don't know. It was the first one I could think of. The van doesn't really have a name."

Eddie couldn't remember the last time he was in such a good mood. 

"Well, she has a name now. Brenda." 

You looked around, both of your hands still on the wheel. Your wandering eyes inspected the radio, then drifted towards Eddie. The look in your eyes was mysterious to him.

"What are you thinking?" he asked.

You chewed on your lip, staring out the window towards the decrepit factory in front of you. "Nothing, really. Just a lot of firsts for me lately."

A knot formed in his stomach as your words mirrored his earlier thoughts. Curiosity taking hold of him, he couldn’t help but pry. "Like…?"

You had a neurotic habit of picking at things when you tried to explain serious business. He watched patiently as you scratched at the peeling paint on the driver's side door.

"Driving, obviously. Skipping school. That was kinda my first… kiss the other day, too."

If you were ever planning to tell him this information without him asking, Eddie would never know. But he was shocked. He let out a quick, unintentional laugh. He didn't mean for it to sound rude... but the words were already spilling out.

"You're fucking with me, right?"

He sounded very rude.

You looked suddenly defensive. "Yes, Eddie, I'm lying to your face." Your voice dripped with sarcasm and your eyes turned cold.

"Back it up, sunshine. I'm not making fun of you," he rubbed at the bridge of his nose. "But, like, why? Why me? If it's 'cause you were drinking, I totally understand if it was a mistak-"

"No," you interrupted firmly, "Not a mistake." And then you went silent.

Looking again at the clock on the radio, you unbuckled your seatbelt and climbed out. 

"I've got to get home soon. I don't want my parents to know I ditched."

"Won't the school call them since you didn't show up?"

"Probably, but they've been at work all day. They don't usually get home until after my sister and I get off the bus."

Trading seats with you in the van, Eddie followed your directions and drove you home. He felt a little insecure at the sight of your nice, perfectly maintained middle class home. He worried that you would have a conniption fit at the sight of the house he shared with his father.

"Thanks for everything today, Eddie Munson."

He stared at you, wondering what was going through your mind. But instead of inquiring, he let you go. You waved a quick goodbye at the brown-eyed boy before disappearing into the house.

☾

I am the son And the heir Of a shyness that is criminally vulgar I am the son and heir Of nothing in particular

☾

"Bless us, oh Lord, and these gifts which we are about to receive from your bounty. Through Christ our Lord we pray, Amen."

Dinnertime in the Buckley household was underway. From what you could tell, your parents had no clue that you skipped school that day. Shoveling mashed potatoes onto her plate, your mother looked at you and Robin.

"So, girls, tell us about your day."

You both exchanged identical looks before your parents could notice something was off. The eldest Buckley daughter responded with haste.

"My day was good. Not much homework with winter break coming up."

Your mother smiled at you. "I'm so excited for Father Humphrey's service on Christmas Eve. Aren't you, Richard?"

Grumbling something about being up late on a holiday, her father shrugged. "How about you, Robin? Did anything interesting happen at school today?"

You could see the internal battle in Robin's head, trying to think of a proper thing to say. 

"Oh, yeah. I was selected to do a new song in band. So I practiced that a lot today."

Melissa Buckley giggled. "That's great news, Robin. A solo? You're so talented, sweetie."

"No, not a solo. More of a… duet."

"And who is the lucky boy, dear?"

You knew that the duet was with a girl, which is the main reason why Robin was so excited about it to begin with. But Robin knew the protocol.

"Uh, Kevin… Kevin Brown." Totally made up name.

Your father finally spoke, his mouth full of food. "See, Y/N, why aren't you more like your sister? If you keep avoiding boys, the whole town is going to think you're one of those… homosexuals."

"Richard!" your mother scolded, straightening up in her chair.

"What? You know I'm right. The girl is seventeen. Prom is coming up. I've never heard a single boy's name come out of her mouth. She spends too much time with that Wheeler girl, and you know they're a bunch of sinners."

Resisting the urge to flip the entire fucking table, you remained stone-faced as you responded. You could feel Robin kicking your leg underneath the table.

"Actually, father, I have plans with a boy this week."

He snorted. "Is that so?"

You politely dabbed your mouth with the expensive cotton napkin, face red with silent anger, then stood up from your chair.

"Yes, and he agreed to teach me how to drive. So maybe I can get my license in the spring."

Your mother set down her silverware. "Darling, is that really necessary? What's this boy's name?"

"Eddie Munson."

Slam.

Richard Buckley pounded a fist on the table, then pointed at you. "I forbid this. You know what kind of reputation that family has. His father is a drunk and a heathen."

"Please…" Robin pulled on the edge of your shirt. Not worth it, she mouthed at you.

You looked your father directly into his eyes, the color so much like your own. But he didn't back down.

"I forbid this, Y/N," he repeated coolly. "If I see you with that Munson boy, you'll be spending your entire senior year in a private school, where you can focus on your studies and repent."

☾

When you say it's gonna happen now When exactly do you mean? See I've already waited too long And all my hope is gone

☾

(song lyrics credit: "How Soon Is Now?" by The Smiths)

TAGLIST for this series if you would like to be notified when I post new chapters!

[bimbobaggins69]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑 𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌.

virgin eddie munson x experienced fem reader

summary: you go into the boys locker room with a plan to steal the polaroids your now ex boyfriend took of you to show off to his friends, but the last thing you suspected was to be met with Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson and his very big friend.

warnings: smut ahead, 18+ minors dni, no use of y/n (use of pet names), non consensual sharing of nudes, reader technically cheats, big dick eddie, slight fingering, oral (m receiving) unprotected p in v, cream pie, fluffff.

authors note: I feel like I haven’t written a one shot in awhile, so…hope you like. As always thank you to my lovely beta’s @take-everything-you-can & @xxhellfiregirlxx <3

wc: 3.4k

You are fuming, absolutely seething with rage.

You couldn't believe your boyfriend, scratch that ex boyfriend would do this to you. How could someone swear to be ‘so in love’ with you but turn around and do this? It just didn’t make sense, but you only have yourself to blame.

All of your friends warned you about Andy, said he was a pig and would just use you as another notch for his belt, but you wanted to believe you were different or that maybe you could’ve changed him. Instead you allowed him to take very x-rated polaroids of you, that he in turn showed to all of his basketball buddies, who told their cheerleader girlfriends, who then told you he’d spent all of gym bragging and showing them off in the locker room.

So…you’d devised a very impulsive and hell bent plan; while they were all outside running the annual mile, you decided you would sneak into the locker room, find Andy's locker, then you would break into it and steal the polaroids back. It was a fool proof plan… or so it seemed in your frenzy of rage.

But as you walk into the quiet, cold, sterile room filled with green lockers. You quickly realize you're not alone.

“Oh my god!”

“Oh fuck!”

Was said in unison as you and Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson locked eyes, but they didn't stay connected for long as yours roamed his body, all the way down to the biggest cock you had ever seen in your life. Not that you’ve seen so many, but you’ve had your fair share of hook ups and I mean c’mon you're not a prude, you do watch porn.

But, even so… his cock was still bigger than anything you’ve come in contact with, albeit on screen and off.

“I’m so sorr–”

“What are you do-”

You both say again, voices overlapping as Eddie catches the wide eyed stare you're giving his flaccid manhood.

He quickly covers himself with his hands, his cheeks pinkening in embarrassment.

Eddie was rather dense when it came to his size, considering he was a virgin and he’s been using the locker room while it was empty since he started at Hawkins High, not wanting to give the jocks anymore fuel for their relentless fire. He didn’t have much to compare it to, nor did he want to participate in any dick measuring contests. The only porn he had hidden under his bed were his dirty fantasy magazines but all the dicks in there were monster cocks, literally.

“What are you doing in here?” Eddie huffed in annoyance as your eyes continued to burn a hole into his now covered groin.

“I um, I–” You couldn't even find the words to explain why you were in the boy’s locker room, not one that would make any sense to him, anyway.

“You what, huh? Spit it out.” Eddie didn’t mean to snap at you, but he was already in a foul mood. He had been present when Andy was showing off your goods to his ogling friends, who all agreed he was a ‘lucky guy’.

Eddie patiently waited for them all to retreat out and onto the track so he could finally shower and get dressed back into his all black attire. Eddie, oh lovesick Eddie had been nursing a mammoth sized crush on you since your freshman year. So, to say he couldn't help but roll his eyes and clench his fists at not only the thought of all these other dudes getting to see you, but also the fact that you even picked a shit stain like Andy Clayton to give an ounce of your time to, really pissed him off.

“I came to try and get something back from my ex.” You bashfully murmur as your eyes once again find the metalheads.

A remorseful look passes over Eddie's face at your revelation, as you both continue to stare at each other you quickly notice his wet hair has been dripping down onto his tattooed chest, the scene makes your breath hitch and you want so badly to clench your thighs from the heat that's been ignited in your center.

Eddie’s confidence begins to grow as he notices the flush of your cheeks and the way your breathing went ragged as your eyes wandered.

“Ya’ know, if i didn't know any better i'd say you’re checking me out?” He declares with a cocky smirk.

“What? I-I’m not-” You stutter before shutting your eyes tight, as if it’d shield you of your utter humiliation. You quickly exhale in an attempt to rid yourself of the mix of arousal and embarrassment that has simultaneously filled your body.

“Okay, I was… but I didn’t mean to, I'm sorry.” You whisper as your eyes meander the tiles under your black loafers and white slouch socks.

“You didn't mean to check out my dick?” Eddie says in bewilderment as his brows raise, disappearing behind his shaggy, wet bangs.

He’s surprised he has the confidence to stand so close to you with his dick literally in his hand, but watching you stutter and squirm has got to be the highlight of his whole high school career.

Well this and that time he, Gareth and Jeff left that flaming bag of shit on Mr. Higgins doorstep. Yeah, watching that old fuck struggle to put out a burning bag filled with dog shit was definitely up there.

“I mean, I did mean to, it’s just– nevermind, I'm sorry. I’ll leave.” Your words fly out of your mouth before you begin to turn and leave, back out the way you came without fulfilling the mission you were on just five minutes ago.

You didn’t even make it two steps before Eddie was gently grabbing your bicep, his hands no longer covering his cock that now grows hard between his scrawny thighs.

“It’s just what?…Color me curious sweetheart.” He says as his calloused fingers slowly run down your arm and back to his side.

Sweetheart, you liked hearing him call you that. Jesus, what is happening?

“Well um, your dicks like really big.” You say as your eyes fall back to his package, you lick your lips at the sight of it twitching at your words.

“Really?” The way he questions you is confusing because there is absolutely no way he doesn’t know he’s hung like a goddamn horse.

“You’re joking right? You’re gonna act like you don’t know your cock is massive?” You say with a tilt of your head.

His eyebrows shoot back up in amusement, the cocky smile on his face a complete rival to his rapidly beating heart.

You move closer into his space, looking up into his innocent looking doe eyes.

Eddie Munson is anything but innocent, right? I mean he sells drugs for fuck sake! You’ve even heard about him grabbing a cheerleader's tit during a drug deal, of course she was trying to get him to lower the price, but still…well now that you come to think of it, that's really the only sexual thing you’ve heard about him. There’s no way he could be a… yeah right.

“Can I ask you a question?” You whisper as you move in even closer, moving a now damp, stray strand of hair behind his reddening ear.

“S-sure.” He whimpers when your long nails lightly scratch down his jaw, which he quickly covers with a cough.

You bit at your lips trying to hold back a giggle at the noise that went straight between your legs.

Okay, fuck those pictures! What better way to get over a guy than to get under a new one…right? Especially one your ex hates…who has a huge cock…I mean this shits a no brainer… you’re gonna fuck Eddie Munson.

“Are you a virgin?” You question sweetly as you ‘innocently’ play with the hem of your plaid dress, the white turtleneck underneath making your already hot and bothered body, burn more with the intense electricity radiating between the both of you.

“I uh, how’d you know?” He sighs as his shoulders drop in exasperation, not at you but at himself for being so fucking obvious.

“Well, with that third leg I never would’ve guessed…but you have this innocence in your eyes that’s kinda telling.” You giggle as your eyes meet his still hard cock, and all you wanna do now is wrap your hand around it and watch him lose his mind.

Eddie throws his head back and laughs into the open air of the now humid locker room. He whispers third leg to himself, nodding his head as if he was hearing that term for the first time. He was.

“Do you wanna stay a virgin, Eddie?” You whisper as the tips of your fingers gently trail over the patch of hair on his lower stomach, just above the spot your hand is aching to touch, that he’s aching for you to touch.

Two things in this moment make the metalhead equally lose his mind, he might actually cum untouched if he’s being honest. Your hand is so close to his throbbing cock, just a few centimeters down and you’d be brushing against his pink, sensitive tip. And hearing you say his name. Wait, you know his name.

That alone is an aphrodisiac for him.

“No, I-I don’t.” He admits before swallowing hard, his damp Adam's apple bobbing at the motion.

“Can I kiss you?” He surprises himself as the question leaves his mouth.

“Please.” you whine with desperation, making Eddie groan as his lips find yours in a frenzy.

Your fingers slowly trail down, finally wrapping your dainty hand around the sheer girth and length that is Eddie’s cock.

Another whimper falls from between his pretty lips, but this time it's unashamed and without a cough to cover it up. No, he wants you to hear what you’re doing to him.

“That feel good, baby?” You murmur into his mouth between the smacks that echo off the barren walls.

“Fuck, yeah mhm, it does.” He rushes out awkwardly, making you giggle into the kiss.

He wraps his arms around you, in an air of confidence and pulls you in closer, chests now flush as your hand continues to softly tug at his cock.

“Do you wanna fuck me, Eddie?” You whisper as you lean your forehead against his, wet bangs be damned.

“I’ve wanted to fuck you for a very long time, princess.” He admits without much thought.

You break away from him, eyes boring into his as you take in his confession. You step back and Eddie’s heart shatters as he curses himself for opening his big, stupid mouth and scaring you off. But before he could get down on his knees and grovel for you to just ignore him and stay, keep paying attention to him. You take his hand and lead him to the wooden bench towards the back of the locker room.

He follows you like a lost puppy before you’re gently pushing at his chest, a silent instruction for him to sit down. He quickly takes the hint, clumsily plopping down onto the stiff wooden bench.

He looks to you for direction, those innocent eyes blinking up at you and goddammit if it doesn't chip away at the walls your now ex boyfriend has helped you build. But, that's a thought for another day.

You fall to your knees, cold tiles digging into your skin as you wrap your hand back around his cock in a wildness that you’d never felt for any of your previous partners.

“Holy shit.” Eddie spits out in disbelief. This has to be a wet dream, there's absolutely now way this is happening to him…he’s never this lucky, and in typical eddie cynicism, he looks around to make sure no one is filming or waiting to pop out and laugh at him or better yet, to tell him this was all some elaborate prank, get the freak all riled up just to leave him high and dry.

The thought is quickly extinguished when you wrap your lips around the head of his cock, gently sucking before you're removing your soft, pillowy muscles that are now coated in his precum, you alluringly flick your tongue across them gathering it all, just to get a good taste of him. His soul just about leaves his body and you've barely even started.

You take him back into your mouth, but this time without mercy as you relax your throat, slowly moving down inch by delicious inch as you try not to gag, his tip now bullying your uvula like his own personal punching bag.

“Oh, oh fuck, please. I-I…” He stammers as his hands flex and clench beside him, too afraid to run his fingers through your hair like he so badly wants to.

You fuck his aching cock into your throat, bobbing your head up and down, over and over before you’re popping off of him, placing a sweet kiss to his tip then standing back up onto your feet, your knees burning from the pressure that was placed on them, red indents now take their place leaving very little mystery as to what you’ve just done.

“I need your cock so bad Eddie.” You moan into his mouth before kissing him, it’s deep and needy and you never want to kiss anyone else like this for as long as you live.

“Use me, please. J-just fuck, just use me pretty girl.” Eddie whimpers, before he begins attacking your neck, sucking hard before soothing the skin with his tongue. You couldn’t care less if he leaves marks, in fact you want him to mark you up, make you his.

You thread your hand into his still damp hair, pushing him closer as he begins to suck at a particularly sensitive spot, just below your ear.

Eddie places one last tender kiss there, before he removes his face from your neck. He confidently lifts the hem of your dress up and over the tops of your thighs, exposing your slick soaked, red panties. The metalhead swipes a finger over the thin, lace fabric that clings to your hips.

“Can I take these off?” He asks as his eyes continue to bore into the growing wet patch in the center of your covered slit.

“Mhm.” A high pitch whine escapes from the depths of your throat at how harshly he tore them off from between your legs. Needy boy.

“Fuckin’ aye.” Eddie murmurs to himself at the sight of your glistening cunt right in front of him, so pretty and wet just for him. He wanted to run his fingers through the damp, trimmed coils on your mound but quickly decided against it, he didn’t want you thinking that was weird.

“H-have you ever seen a pussy before?” You chirp up, bashful as you grab his hand and move it towards your soaked slit.

He clears his throat before answering- “just in magazines.” He admits as his cheeks tinge a pretty shade of pink.

He’s embarrassed by his revelation, but you can’t help but think that’s the hottest thing you’ve ever heard.

You work his fingers through your slit, rubbing at your own clit with his hand and it all just fuels that fire growing deep in your belly.

“Oh!” You moan as your eyes gently roll back, you swipe his finger through your wetness again, “you feel that? Feel how wet you make me Ed’s?” You whisper as your eyes now hold his.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful! I-I need to fuck you or im gonna cum. You can’t just talk to me like that, princess.” He mutters as he loses all resolve, not that he had much to begin with.

“Yes, sir.” You whisper into his ear before you’re placing a gentle kiss there. You turn around, hand grabbing onto his still hard cock, you lower yourself into his lap, pink tip already prodding at your hole as your back becomes flush with his chest, you lay your head back against his shoulder and burrow it into his neck, both of you moaning in unison as you sink onto him, slowly.

He’s so big it’s like he's ripping you in half, but you welcome the burn. The pleasure and pain of it all makes your cunt drip even more, further creating less pain and a whole lot more pleasure.

“Mmf.” Eddie moans into the side of your face, as you’re finally seated flush in his lap, cock buried deep inside your aching pussy, you clench around the intrusion, making Eddie gasp and whine.

You smile back at him before you’re doing it again.

“Fuck, do you want this to be over before it starts? Huh?” He says threw his teeth, as he grabs your chin to reprimand you. And you want nothing more than to play further into that dynamic.

Andy was a shit lay compared to this, Eddie Munson a virgin is fucking you better than your ex, and if that doesn’t speak volumes as to how the relationship was. The thought makes you feel stupid.

Before you can fester anymore on your dumb mistake, Eddie begins to fuck up into you, all his patience seeping through the air vents that you now realize are on and blowing, creating a chill throughout the room and goosebumps to trickle over your body.

His big hands grab at your waist, roughly bouncing you up and down on his cock as he follows the same rhythm. You’re both moaning into each other's mouths as you bring your hand to the nape of his neck and holding on, as you get absolutely railed in the boys locker room.

Not only is the location turning you on but the thought of being caught by anyone, especially Andy, has got your cunt dripping and making a mess of the metalheads balls.

“Shit, you’re so wet and warm and so fucking tight, baby.” Eddie huffs as his words begin to spill out with no filter, theres no fucking way he can think about what he’s saying before he says it with you clenching around him like that.

“I remember the first time I fucked my fist thinking about you; you wore that little jean skirt with those fucking red cowboy boots a-and the tightest little white shirt, I could see your nipples perfectly. Didn't even bother to wear a bra, just wanted everyone to see, didnt you? Mmm, bad girl.” He starts his confession out whiney and whimpering until he gets to the bad girl with a growl and an extra hard snap of his hips that make your eyes cross in complete carnal delight.

“That’s so fu-ucking hot that you think about me when you jack off, fuck.” You stutter as your body continues to be used as Eddie’s personal little fuck toy.

“Yeah? But I don’t have to do that anymore do I? You’re gonna let me fuck this tight little cunt whenever I want, aren’t you baby?” The confident rasp in his voice is a complete 360 to the awkward, innocent boy he was just seconds ago. But, the way your pussy tightens around him tells him you fucking love it, so he files that information away for next time.

“Yes, yes whenever you want Eddie!” You wail as your legs begin to shake, your cunt clenching around him as your nails dig into his thighs that continue to slap up into the backs of yours. The sounds were filthy, but they egged you both on as your highs so quickly approached.

“Ed- I’m cumming, oh my god!” You sob, fully convinced someone has had to have heard you both by now. But you don’t care, how could you when the most intense pleasure was coursing through your body, turning you into a twitching mess.

“Fuck, me too baby, wher-” He doesnt even get to finish, before you’re begging him to cum inside you. Of course he obliges, eyes rolling back into his head and cock throbbing as his heavy load shoots deep inside you.

“Goddammit.” He whispers into your neck after you've both come down from your panting highs. The breath he exhales tickles you, making you giggle. His arms wrap around your front, holding you tightly before burrowing his head deeper into the skin between your jaw and clavicle, he blows a raspberry and you can't help the shriek that leaves your mouth as he continues to tease you.

“So, you want help getting those pictures back?”

[eddiemunsons-missingnipple]

The Meetup

《Part 2 for Next Caller

《Pairings:College!Eddie Munson x shyfem!reader

《Summary: After your call with Eddie, you can't get him off your mind. You promised yourself to let your fears go and finally speak with him in person. Some things don't go as originally planned because Eddie just so happens to walk into your coffee shop.

《Warnings:fluff,smut. 90s!Eddie, a little tiny bit of dry humping, oral ( female & male receiving) dirty talk, pet names (good girl, sweetheart) phone sex, masturbation (male). Sex toys (fleshlight)

Word count: 7.7k

A/n: Please reblog like and leave a comment to show support. Not proofread ignore any mistakes you come across.

Disclaimer: Please read part one linked at the top to understand the rest of the story.

Mini series masterlist

18+ minors dni

Almost a few days after the stunt, you pulled on the radio with Eddie it didn't take long before word got around on campus. It's all anyone could talk about they wanted to know who the mystery caller was, and Eddie seemed to be cornered more so than usual. As people surrounded him, he wished maybe one of them were you. Hiding amongst the crowd of people.

Anytime a woman called in, his assistant would jump out his skin. He knew he should have shut it down the moment it started, but he trusted Eddie. Now, anytime the phone rings, he instantly goes into a frenzied panic. Eddie just laughs at how over dramatic he was being. He knew if someone called in trying to pull the same stunt as you did, he'd turn them away. He's not gonna tell his assistant that, though. He likes how jumpy and absolutely horrified he gets when there is a female voice on the other end of the line.

You still listened in every show since that night. Almost every time someone called in, they would either want to do what you did or want to talk about you. One thing that pretty much kinda bothered you were some of the girls calling and pretending to be you. Sometimes, you felt like it was bait, and someone was just trying to get the real "Miss caller" to give away her true identity. Much like how tonight was going, if you were tired of it, you can only imagine how he must feel.

"Yeah hi its me calling you back." An unfamiliar female voice spoke.

"Nice try, you don't really sound anything like her, buh-bye." His voice etched with annoyance as he hung up on the fifth woman of the night.

"Anyone want to call in and talk about I' dunno sports?" He sounded absolutely over it.

"I'm fucking desperate over here."

He emitted a long sigh into the mic. "Can someone call in with an embarrassing or some shit?"

You begin to drown out the sound of him talking as he tries to move along the segment.

You felt bad you truly did for what was happening to him now. You don't regret choosing him to help you, but you wish the circumstances were a little different. You hope he didn't hate you for this. You don't think you could live with yourself if he did.

Eddie on the other hand couldn't get you off his mind. You infested it, and no matter how hard he tried to think of over things, you creeped your way back in. He dreamt of you, and every dream was the same. He could hear you speaking to him, but right when he got close enough to reveal who you were, he'd wake up.

He got absolutely chewed out by his boss that following day. His show was close to being taken off the air, but once they saw how much buzz it was getting, they decided against it. He was on thin ice, though, when it came to how raunchy his segment was allowed to get. The conversation made local news in your town, which created more concerns for you.

The thought of someone figuring out how to trace your call back to your home terrified you to no end. Could they even do something like that? You don't know and definitely don't want to find out. Eddie did make a promise to keep you anonymous, but that didn't mean everyone else who worked there did. You try to push the paranoia to the back of your mind and just put all of your focus on school and work. This whole situation should blow over shortly you hoped.

Even with all of the chaos at your campus right now, that still didn't persuade from wanting to go see him play Thursday. Which was perfect timing since your roommate was going out of town that same day. Leaving you to an empty home all to by yourself. Who knows, maybe you'd get lucky and take him home. It was wishful thinking on your part, but still, it could happen.

Little did you know you didn't need to wait that long to see him after all. As you just rang up a customer's coffee order, he was next in line. He was too preoccupied looking at all the coffee options on the menu to see he's the next one to in line. You cleared your throat to get his attention and he looked right at you.

Your heart felt like it was in your throat when his eyes met yours. He looked very good today, making it much harder for you to focus. He had his hair pulled back and wore a oversized black corduroy button-up shirt with black ripped jeans. He gave an apologetic smile for holding you up.

"Uhhh, sorry, I really don't know what this shit means." He laughs, pointing back to the menu above.

Your mouth goes dry, and you try to play it cool.

"Well, what kind of coffee do you usually like?" You asked, trying to forget about who's standing before you. He's just some guy you kept reminding yourself.

He pressed his lips in a thin line, "Well, i usually don't drink coffee. if I did, I guess I wouldn't want it to taste like ass."

"So whatever you suggest."

You giggle and smile, turning to look at the menu as well. "I'd suggest maybe a vanilla latte. It's pretty basic."

"I'll take whatever you tell me to." He holds his hands up in surrender. "I'm putting all my faith in you."

"Wait a minute, are you implying im basic?" His mouth agape throwing a ringed hand over his heart pretending to be offended.

He was toying with you hoping to get you to laugh but instead you panicked.

Swallowing hard." N-no...its just a pretty standard drink to order."

"Hey, it's cool. I'm messing around." He reassured.

"Oh..um okay well then."

You try to regain your composure as your face begins to tingle.

"Okay, and what size? Small, medium, or large? " You asked him, trying to hide the fact that you're rapidly about to lose your mind.

"Oh, I need a large."

You nodded, putting in his order and ringing him up. He stands there a moment too long, and it's making you a little nervous. "Do I know you from somewhere?"

Your eyes grow wide, and you quickly turn to look away.

"Nope." You shook your head.

"You sure? You seem so familiar to me." He bends down on his elbows leaning on the counter. He's trying to examine your face to remember where he knows you from.

"We may have a had a class together at some point." You shrug.

"I mean yeah--but I don't know there is something else." He continued staring while you ran around behind the counter, putting away fresh croissant.

The longer it took for his latte to be finished, the more anxious you got. He wouldn't stop looking at you. You wanted to tell him it's rude to stare, but you don't. He kept trying to make small talk with you, which didn't help your nerves at all. You kept stumbling over your words or clearing your throat because it was getting dry.

You took a breath of fresh air when they finally called his order number. He took his coffee and waited around until you came back. "So, uhh, I don't know if this weird, but you wouldn't be apposed to going on a date with me?"

You blinked twice trying to figure out if you just heard him correctly.

"Come again?" You ask in disbelief.

"Oh, well, I was wondering if I could take you on a date?" He repeated as a small blush creeped along his cheeks.

"Yeah, sure. I mean, I'd love to." You tried to keep your cool, but on the inside, you were jumping for joy.

His smile grows ten times wider when he hears you accept his date. "Great, write down your address and phone number so we can keep in contact."

You nodded and ran to grab a pin and paper, giving him all of the information he needed. He also wrote down his number to give to you as well, just in case you needed to get in touch before your date.

"Cool, how's Friday sound?" He asks, taking the piece of paper you handed him. "Friday sounds great, actually."

"My names Eddie, by the way." He added motioning to himself.

He smiled again, taking a sip of coffee as he began heading for the door. He turns to look at you one last time before leaving. "I'll see you Friday, pretty girl."

"Thanks a latte." He joked, holding up his cup before finally exiting the coffee shop. His face scrunched up with embarrassment as he turned to leave. Why the fuck did I just say that? He thought to himself as he practically chugged down his drink, heading to his first lecture of the day.

You're standing still behind the counter, frozen in place. Did that really just happen? That fast? You started to think someone was pulling a prank on you. Maybe everyone did find out you were the caller and decided to mess with around. No, Eddie doesn't seem like the type of guy who would do something like that, you thought. You just couldn't get over how easy that was, a little too easy.

The week went by way too fast for you, and the closer it got to your date, the more anxious you became. You wanted to tell him so badly it was you who called. Would he even still like you after that? He seemed just as eager to meet you as you wanted to meet him. Doesn't really matter now. You'd tell him eventually anyway. Especially if this date goes well.

You didn't see or hear from him too much during the days leading up to Friday. You figured he was very busy since he still was doing his show on the radio and playing with his band. On top of attending classes, he seemed like he didn't have much free time. Which is why you didn't cancel on him like you were probably going to. After you thought about it for a while, you realized he definitely was making the time to take you out.

Eddie called you a few times to check in and see if you were still willing to go out with him. He'd make small talk to ask how you were and if your classes were going well. He'd crack a joke or two, making you laugh easing your mind of any self doubt you had before.

Now that it was officially Friday evening, you quickly left work early to go home and get ready. He said he'd be come by eight o'clock to pick you up, giving you a few hours to decide what to wear. You searched through each article of clothing hating every single piece. You know deep down he doesn't care about what clothes you're wearing. He asked you out while you were in your work attire. With your coffee stained apron and dumb hat.

Still, you wanted to look nice for him, and you don't get out much as it is. So you opted for just a simple black dress. Dowsing yourself in a sweet perfume and putting on a pair of heels. You pray you don't end up falling and busting your ass in front of him tonight. You were shaved, plucked, and smelt of vanilla and spice.

You were just putting the last touches to your makeup on when you heard a knock at your front door. You did a last mirror check, making sure everything looked well put together. You take a long, deep breath and exhale before you go to open up for him.

When you opened the door to greet him, he was standing there with one hand in his pocket. While the other is holding a bouquet of flowers. He wore a black pullover sweater with the sleeves pulled up to his elbows, revealing his tattooed arms. His dark curly hair loose around his shoulders, and he smelled like mint and tobacco. His smile widened when he saw you for the first time since your last meeting. His dimples on full display, and you couldn't help but melt a little. "You look beautiful."

"Thanks. You don't look too bad, either." You smile, stepping out to stand closer to him. "Nah, I just wanted to impress you."

He blushes, and this is the second time you've seen him do that. He gave a boyish smile and handed you the bouquet of flowers he picked. "These are for you, sweetheart."

"Thank you." You reached out to accept the flowers. "They're beautiful."

There is a moment where you both don't say a word and just stand there gazing at one another.

Eddie cleared his throat. "Shall we?"

You nodded, closing the door behind you and making your way to his van. He walked next to you with a hand on the small of your back. He moved past you quickly to open the door and help you get into the passenger seat. Eddie made his way to the driver side and hopped in no longer after you.

The drive to the restaurant was fairly quiet except for the music playing on Eddie's radio. He humed along, tapping his thumbs on the steering wheel to the beat. You both steal glances here and there when the other isn't looking. Your heart beating a mile a minute.

Eddie seemed calm and collected, but on the inside, he felt just the same. Usually, he was pretty confident around women, but there was something about you that made his heart skip a beat. He doesn't know what it is that pulled him in so quickly. He's not complaining one bit either.

You finally see the restaurant up a head and sigh in relief. He pulled up and parked in the front. He made you wait there while he jumped out of the driver side to jog over to help open up your door. You took his hand and carefully got out while trying not to flash anyone in the process. You wish the dress you finally decided on wasn't so short.

You make your way inside where a hostess greets you both and guides you to a table in the far back. You sit across from one another while she handed you a menu to look over. A waitress soon comes by to ask what drinks you'd like, and you both settle on a Dr pepper.

She returned not too much longer to take your orders and set down your drinks. You and him seemed to be in sync tonight since the both of you ordered a burger with onion rings on the side. Once she took your order, she left, leaving you alone together again.

"So I'm gonna ask a boring question and say what do you enjoy doing for fun?" He playfully asked, taking a sip of his soda.

"Uh, well, I haven't been having much fun lately with work and school taking up my time." You confessed feeling a little embarrassed you don't live an exciting life you imagined he did.

"You don't hang out with friends or go out?" His brows furrowed.

You play around with a piece of paper on the table, avoiding his gaze. "Uh, well, I don't have that many friends here."

"I mostly just keep to myself and stay home a lot." You continued on.

He frowns. "Boyfriends?"

You shake your head, trying not to even think about any of your exes at a time like this.

"You know what? I'm sorry. I shouldn't ask about boyfriends while in the middle of a date." He gave an apologetic smile.

"Hope he doesn't mind sharing you for the night, though." He winked, making you laugh.

He seems to enjoy making you laugh when he notices you're uncomfortable or getting shy.

The waitress finally arrived back with your food, and you didn't hesitate to start eating immediately. He watched you with amusement and started eating right behind you. The longer you both talked, the more relaxed you became.

You were already familiar with him and found a form of comfort when listening to his show. But being alone with him felt different. You never thought this moment would come. You almost wanted to cry, thinking it was just some elaborate dream that you'd soon wake up from. The date was going amazing so far, and you never wanted it to end.

"So, um, how's your show going?" You ask him, not wanting to seem like he was the only one asking the questions.

"It's good..well actually I'm in some trouble, but they'll live. More people are listening in now, so I think the money will shut them up." He openly admited, shoving an onion ring in his mouth.

You raise an eyebrow "in trouble for what?"

You already knew but wanted to hear him say. You kept wondering what he thought about that phone call. Even if it might hurt your feelings, you were dying to know. Your curiosity always got the best of you.

He shakes his head. "Maybe I'll talk about it on our second date."

You giggle, finishing off the last bit of your dinner. "What do you like to do for fun?"

"Well, I play DnD when I have extra free time, I play with my band at the bar by campus." He frowned a little at the mention of his band.

"Sadly, we probably won't be playing much together here very soon." He adds.

Changing the subject quickly, not wanting to bring the mood down. "Girlfriends?"

"No girlfriends."

He eyed you up and down, grinning wide poking his tongue on the inside of his cheek. You swear you could see a little twinkle in his eye.

He leans forward, getting awfully close. " You almost ready to go?"

"Um sure, yeah." You respond a little sadly, not wanting the night to end so soon. He waves for the waitress to bring over the bill. Once he was done paying, you both got back in his vans.

The van ride back to your place wasn't as awkward as before, but there was something electric in the air. There is too much tension between the two of you. It felt like the silence was lingering until one of you decided to make the first move.

He pulls up in front of your home and helps you step out of the passenger side. Both of you walking up to your front door, not speaking. This was your chance to invite him in. You thought to yourself. "I had fun tonight."

"Yeah, me too." He smiled, putting his hands back in pockets.

You look up at him and whisper. " Do you want to come in?"

He paused for a moment, hoping he heard you correctly before answering. "Yeah, I'd love to come in."

You unlock the front door and take his hand, pulling him inside and guiding him to your bedroom.

The moment he was finally in his lips, crashed onto yours in a heated kiss. The kiss was sloppy and passionate as your tongues fought for dominance. Your lipstick smears on his mouth. He breaks away to move down your jaw and nip at your neck right under your ear. He nibbled and sucked at your tender skin, causing your knees to buckle. You grabbed onto his biceps, holding on tightly to keep your balance.

He stops to look at you in your eyes. "You wanna get undressed for me?"

You swallowed hard and nodded.

"Words, pretty girl." His voice is low and husky.

"Yes." You panted.

Eddie reaches around to unzip the back of your dress, letting it pool around your feet. He squates down his face mere inches from your heat. He looks up at you through his long lashes. He kisses your tummy right above the waistband of your panties before reaching to grab your ankle. He brought it forward to unclasp your heel. Your hands grip onto his shoulders, steadying yourself. He tosses the shoe to the side before moving to the next one and doing the same.

He stands up, reaching around your back again, unhooking your bra, and letting it fall to the floor, exposing your breasts. Your nipples harden in the cool air of your bedroom. You watch him as he takes his shirt off, exposing his bare chest to you. You notice tattoos you've never seen before. One of a faded demon on his peck and a black widow right under his clavicle. "Be a good girl and lay back on the bed."

You hesitate for a moment as your mind is already feeling hazy. You turned to slowly make your way up the bed, laying back against your pillows. You watch as he took his boots off and unbuckeld his jeans, letting them hang low on his hips. He seductively crawls his way up until he is hovering above you.

You push on his chest. "Umm....I don't think it's a good idea if we have sex."

He sit back on his knees. "Want me to leave?"

"No, we can do other stuff. I'm just not ready to do that." You confessed.

"Hey, we don't have to do anything you don't want to." He reassured you, bringing a hand to gently cup your cheek.

You let out a shakey breath, feeling a little more comfortable . You were worried he would be mad at you, but he wasn't.

"If you don't like anything I'm doing, don't be afraid to tell me,okay?" He's being sincere, you can tell. He wanted you to feel safe with him.

You nodded again. "Okay, i will."

"Good." He smiled and leaned down to give you another kiss to your lips.

He brought his hips against yours grinding his hard cock against your core. You moan in his mouth when his cock applies pressure to your clit over your panties. He pushes against you harder, causing him to grunt. He moved to lay by your side, pressing his front right up against you. His fingers dance and play with the waistband of your panties. You can feel his prominent buldge pressing against your outer thigh. His calloused fingers slowly slips past the delicate lace. You can feel him brushing past your clit. He carefully glides his middle finger in between your wet fold, collecting your slick on his finger. Ignoring your aching bud in the process.

"Fuck you're so wet." He murmured against your mouth.

He pushes one finger inside your entrance, pumping it agonizingly slow. Your head falls back, giving him the perfect opportunity to attack your neck. He nips and sucks on the skin by your ear. Biting, licking, and sucking while his finger is knuckle deep in your pussy. He adds another stretching you open around his thick fingers. His thumb pressing firmly on your clit. You squeezed your eyes shut and let out gasp.

"Think of my cock pretty girl." He whispered curving his fingers upward.

"Mmm!, s-so good." You whimper.

That's all you could respond with your mind completely gone. All you could do was focus on how he seemed determined to make you feel good. You feel him smile against your neck when where his lips were leaving feather like kisses all over. You clench around him as his fingers start working on that sweet spot on your walls.

"F-fuck." You let out a strangled moan bucking your hips.

He grinds his cock against your thigh. "Feel that?"

"Feel how hard I am for you?"

You look up at him with big doe eyes."y-yes I can feel you."

His picks up the pace, his fingers plunging in and out, making your head spin. Your pussy wet and loud taking his middle and ring finger. The tightness in your core building with each pump of fingers. Your moans getting more pornographic. His warm breath on your neck making you squirm.

"You're such a messy girl. My hand is getting soaked." He purrs in your ear.

He ruts harder against your thigh, violently rocking your bed.

"Can I taste you?" He rasped.

You let out groan. "Please"

You swallow hard as your heart feels like it's beating out of your chest. You're already breathless. A small frown forms on your face when you feel his thick fingers leaving from inside of you.

"Ah ah, no pouting." He wiggled his index finger at you playfully.

No one has ever done this to you before. None of your exes cared about your pleasure they only wanted to get themselves off and then leave you to handle the rest. Eddie was the first man to help you cum and now he's going to be the first man to taste you. All of your ex boyfriends were selfish lovers. Which brought on so many insecurities you've been working hard to overcome. There was a part of you that didn't want him to keep going, but there was another part that was telling you to let go and enjoy it.

He gave you one last deep kiss on your lips before moving and kissing his way down right above your sex. He looked up at you again, and his pupils were blown out with lust. He never breaks eye contact as he slowly drags your panties down your legs. He sits up higher for a moment, admiring your naked body spread out before him. You went to close your legs, but he stopped you. "Let me see you."

Thats all you needed to hear before spreading them wider for him.

He cursed under his breath, closing his eyes, trying not to attack the moment you show yourself to him. "I'm gonna make you feel so fucking good."

He dips down again, his face so close to your pussy now. He hums in approval when he sees how soaked you are for him. Your slick dripping down to the curve of your ass. He kisses the inside of your thighs, testing to see how much you can take before you're begging him for more. It doesn't take long before you're already impatient. He nips and sucks at the soft skin, making you buck up against his face. His nose nudging your throbbing clit.

"Patience, sweetheart." He laughed.

You buck up again, wanting desperately wanting his mouth.

Without warning, you feel his warm tongue licking a long strip between your wet folds. You sucked in a breath, never having felt something like this before. "OOh!,Eddie." You mewled

He pulls you down hard against his face, grunting against you. He sucks and laps at your folds, letting your slick cover his face. You grind against his mouth, throwing your head back against the pillows. Your legs go to squeeze around his head, but his strong hands hold them in place. He takes his tongue to flick across your clit making you wriggle. His mouth attaches to your sensitive bud, and he sucks on it softly. You went to push his head away as the sensation is too much. He removed his mouth, checking see to see if you're okay. "You okay?"

"Why'd you stop?" You whined.

He smiled before reattaching his plump lips to your clit slurping and flicking his tongue over it. He watches as you writhe above him. His eyes never left you as he almost seemed mesmerized by the sight before him. You've never felt this desired by anyone before. Your hips bucking as you grind on his face as he begins sucking harder on your aching clit.

You grip the blankets beneath you. "i-im getting close."

His removes a hand from one of your thighs and carefully pushes one finger inside your entrance. You grab and pull on his hair, making him grunt against you. He adds another finger, curving them upwards to stroke that sweet spot on your walls.

Removing his mouth for a moment "Yeah is my good girl gonna cum?" He asked quickly reattaching his lips to your sore clit. Your backing arching off the bed as you pull on his hair some more.

Your walls pulsating around him as his fingers pump in out of you fast. His mouth sucking on your clit harshly as his fingers plunge deep inside your pussy. The wet noises his mouth is making as his tastes you, mixed with the squelching of your pussy fill the room.

He's lapping away at you, getting lost in your taste, driving you absolutely wild.

"Mmphf! Don't stop." You begged him.

You feel that all too familiar tightness building again, and you clench around his fingers. Your legs are twitcing and trembling. You're breathing harder than before. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as your orgasm washes over you fast, leaving your body to shake. Eddies mouth never letting go of your clit. While his skilled fingers work on your pussy helping you ride out your orgasm.

He removes his mouth and fingers from you tenderly, not wanting to hurt you in any kind of way. His face glistening with your slick and his lips look swollen. He moves to lay next to you on your bed. You're slowly coming down from your high. Your breathing evening out as you come to. You both lay there in silence for a few minutes.

"Can I taste you now?" Your voice sounding small as you asked.

"Fuck." He murmured under his breath.

"Yeah, you can taste me." He whispers back.

Moving to sit back between his legs, you reached to take off his pants off. He helped you by wiggling them down his legs and discarding them to the floor. You notice how painfully hard he is in his boxers, and you lick your lips. Hooking your fingers in the waistband of his boxers and pulling them down. His his cock spring free hitting his belly button. The head an angry red leaking precum down his shaft. He hisses when the cool air hits sensitive his tip. Your eyes widened at the size of him. You now know he was telling the truth. He was big, and you don't know how you're gonna be able to fit all of him in your mouth.

He grabs it, giving it a few light strokes eagerly waiting for your mouth. Precum still dripping alongside it, getting on his hand.

"Don't be shy." His voice low and deep just like how he spoke to you that night on the radio. "I hope you'll let me be inside you one day."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you? He bites his lip, waiting for your response.

"Yes." Your voice barely above a whisper.

His eyebrows raise, and a cocky grin spreads across his face. "You felt so tight taking my fingers. I can only imagine how you must feel when I'm spreading you open."

"Just thinking about you taking my cock. The little noises you'd make as you're begging for more."

He presses his thumb on the leaking slit his mouth forming an O shape at the pressure. The veins along his shaft are prominent from the amount of blood rushing to his cock.

"Making you cry because it feels so good." He's breathing heavier while eyeing you in front of him. He wants to get you worked up until you can't take it anymore. Teasing was his favorite part before anything. He didnt even have to touch anyone before he had them begging to be fucked in some type of way.

He kept going on. The way he was speaking to you brought you right back to the night you called him. You squeeze your thighs tightly together, desperate for any small amount of friction.

"Gonna think about that tight pussy when I'm cuming down your throat." His voice deep and seductive. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

Hes thinking about all the ways he'd fuck you. Imagining what your pretty tits would look like with his cum is dripping down them. Filling you up with his cum and watching it dripping out after removing his cock.

Watching him stroke his cock as he thinks about fucking you makes your pussy flutter. You wonder what he must feel like. The feeling of him stretching you open. You're getting tired of him taunting you. You needed to taste him now.

You smacked his hand away, replacing it with your own, giving it a few more light strokes. You move your thumb to press down on his tip. He grunts and bangs his head back against your headboard. You bend down to give the head of his cock a quick peck. You remove your hand and spit into it as you grasp his thick shaft, rubbing it up and down lazily. His mouth hangs open as relaxes and enjoys what you're doing.

Moving your mouth closer, you kitten licked at his tip, tasting his precum. His thrusts his hips as you continue teasing him like he did to you earlier. You take the opportunity to pull away and spit directly on his cock earning you low groan deep from his chest. You begin to suck on the head of cock. Using your spit mixed with his precum as a lubricant to continue stroking his hard length with your hand.

Gliding your mouth down his length until he's hitting the back of your throat, making you gag a little. You removed your hand, resting them on his thighs. You try relaxing your throat while taking as much of him in your mouth as you can. He wasn't even all the way in, and he's already has you gagging. Tears leaking from your eyes smudging your mascara.

"Oh! fuck!, c-careful, sweetheart." He coaxed you.

Drool spilling down your chin as you try to take more of him in your throat. You attempt to keep him back there and focus on breathing from your nose. Sucking lightly on him, you pull him all the way out and swirl your tongue around his tip. "Hmm! your mouth feels so fucking good."

Your tongue wet and warm teasing the head of his cock. Eddie does everything in his power to not push you back down on his length.

He breathed heavily. "Shit! I-I not gonna last if you keep doing that."

Removing his cock from your mouth, creating a loud pop in his absence.

"you like it when I tease your cock eddie?"You asked in a sultry voice.

You wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine.

"Look who's not so shy afterall." He taunted you

You don't know what has come over you suddenly, but having him here in your bed tonight gave you a boost of confidence you never knew you had.

Putting the head of his cock to your mouth sucking it firmly almost forcing him to answer. "Y-yeah I like...I like the way you're teasing me."

You slip his length back down as far he could go in your throat, swallowing around him.

Hearing him like that only spurred you on more. Sucking his cock a little harder than before. Your head bobbing up and down faster. Your other hand moves to cup his balls, and he jerks at the feeling. The sensation of you massaging his balls and your mouth working on his cock practically sends him into a coma of bliss. His abs flexing and his toes curl. His entire body glistened with sweat. "Shit i-im gonna fuck... I'm gonna cum."

"You're gonna make me cum." He panted above you.

With a few more pumps of your hand and mouth sucking harder on his length. You feel his cock twitch and he's shooting his cum deep down your throat. Some spilling out and leaked from the corners of your mouth. He moans out loud and holds your head down until he's finished. You tried to swallow as much of him as you could take. Your mouth not leaving until you're collecting every bit. " S-sweetheart, please."

You let him go with a long string of saliva connecting you to his cock, his cum dripping down your chin. You collect it on your fingertips, bringing it to your mouth, not wanting to waste a drop. Sucking your fingers clean enjoying the salty taste of his cum.

He goes limp as he comes down from his high. His eyes glossed over watching your every move as you lick his cum from your fingers.

You moved to lay back next to him as you wait to see if he will soon leave. His chest rose and fell calmly now, but his head was still foggy. You don't want him to go, but you understand if he does.

"Thank you for tonight" you turn to smile weakly at him.

"No problem." He snorted.

There is a long, drawn-out pause, and you decided it time to tell him your secret.

"Um, I have something to confess to you." You're nervous, and he can tell.

He sit up straight and looks over at you, concern etched on his face. "Yeah? "

"Well, umm, I was the one who called you that night.....on your show." You confessed, looking down, playing with your thumbs.

He blinked, taking in what you just said. Not really sure if he heard you right or if he's still a little dazed.

"Are-- are you serious? " He sounded a little harsh, but he didn't intend to. That night was all he could think about since it happened. You were all he could think about. He lost hours and hours of sleep coming up with different possible scenarios on how he would find you. Who you could possibly be.

"Yeah. Are you mad?" You look over at him, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

His face softens immediately when he notices. "Are you kidding?"

"I've been thinking about you ever since." He sprang up on his knees with excitement scooting closer to you.

You wipe at your eyes and laugh when he takes your hands into his. The fear that was building up moments ago slowly fading away."Really?"

"Oh, you're definitely not getting rid of me now." He exclaimed.

"So, do you maybe want to go out again?" You shyly asked.

"Fuck yeah I do!" He celebrated clapping his his hands together.

You laughed at his excitement. Making you feel so much better now that you got that off your chest. No one has ever made you feel like this before. You felt like you've known him forever even though you just met in person. "Can I call you... like all the time?"

"Yes, absolutely you can." You giggle.

"Hope you don't mind late night ramblings and bad puns," He advised.

"I love bad puns."

He laid back down next, throwing an arm around you. The both of you stayed like that for the rest of the night. Staying up for hours laughing and telling each other stories about your life. You wish you and him didn't have to ever leave this bed.

Another couple of days have passed, and you really haven't heard much again from him since your date. You were starting to think he was just saying all of that stuff because he thought it was something you wanted to hear. You tried not to think like that and just chalked it up to him being extremely busy because he was.

He did talk about you a little bit on his show but never mentioned you were also the mystery caller everyone has been gossiping about. You listened in biting at your nails when he talked about going on a date with a cutie from the coffee shop across from campus.

Eddie never once talked about hooking up with you, and you're grateful for that. He didn't use your date as a way to have another story for his show. He genuinely wanted to take you out and have a nice time. He didn't hook up for a new story to keep his segment interesting. Most of the girls he was with actually asked him to talk about it. Otherwise, he never would have done it to begin with.

You sat on your bed feet dangling over the side, contemplating if you should just bite the bullet and call first. You don't wanna seem desperate, but you also really want to see him again. He agreed to go on another date with you. Since you haven't heard much else from him, you don't want to come off pushy.

Maybe you should call first? Let him know you're equally as interested in him.

You snatch up the phone and the little piece of paper he gave with his number on it. Putting in the digits and waiting for the dial tone to start ringing. You felt like you were waiting forever, but it's only been a few seconds. You were almost ready to hang up and pretend this never happened until you heard him answer.

"H-hello?" He panted into the phone.

He sounded like he was currently in the middle of something. What that something is you don't know yet.

"Hi, it's me....just wanted to call and check in with you." You spoke softly in the other end.

"Y-yeah, uhh, I'm doing good." He stumbled over his words.

He sounded out of breath, and now you're really hoping you didn't interrupt him. Especially if he has company at his place. The thought of that makes you feel a little sick. You're not dating him and barely even know him. You shouldn't feel this way even if he did have someone over. "I can let you go. You seem a little busy."

"Wait, don't hang up!" He exclaimed.

He ponders for a moment on how he can keep you on the other line.

"Wanna help me...with... something? " he asked with a nervous laugh.

You swallow hard before answering. "What do you need?"

You hear him curse under his breath in your ear. Low grunts can be heard, and it doesn't take long before you can figure out what's going on.

"W--wanna talk to you while I fuck this toy." He breathed heavy.

You go to lay back on your bed playing with the hem of your pajama shorts. You know what he wants you to do. Since he helped you out, you might as well do the same for him. It's only fair, right? The last time you did this, hundreds of people were listening. This time, it's just the two of you. Making the situation more intimate, but it also helps take the edge off.

Eddie was currently balls deep in his fleshlight when you called. He just got out of the shower hair still wet and sticking to his body. All day long, he kept thinking about you. He's been painfully hard and wanted to see if he could come over to your place again but didn't want to be so forward. He didn't want you to think he was using you to get off. He really really liked you and hoped there could be something more between the two of you. So he was going to do what he normally would and take of it himself. That was until you called him, and it sparked a little idea in his brain.

He was leaning back against a wall with one hand on a chair next to him, trying to keep his balance upright. Lube was all over his toy, leaking out onto the soft curls between his legs and balls. He glided the toy up and down his length at a steady pace trying not to cum so soon already. His mind races with vivid thoughts of you.

"What do you think about when you do that?" Your voice coming out so small in his ear.

He smiles to himself. "Well I--was thinking about you."

"Like, what exactly?" You played innocent.

Eddie knows what game you're playing, and he has no problem going along with it. He pulls his cock almost all the way out of the toy only to slam it back down hard causing him to groan loud. His legs almost giving out from under him. He pulled out the chair next to him and plopped down.

Biting his lip to stifle another moan.

"Thinkin' about you squeezing around me." He breathed heavily in your ear. "Wishing this was your pussy instead of some..F-fucking toy."

Sinking his cock back inside making a loud schlick noise you can faintly hear in the phone. Pumping his cock while his other hand runs along his abdomen. He's trying to balance the phone between his shoulder and cheek praying he doesnt drop it. His face and chest flushed a crimson red. He lets out a loud moan when he thrusts upward. "Ooh! Shit!"

"Did I feel good?" You purred into the phone.

"God yes--- so fucking tight. the way you hugged my fingers when i was knuckle deep inside you."

You squeeze your thighs together involuntarily, and you can feel a wetness pool in between your legs. You bite down on your lip hard listening as he fucks himself while talking about you. You want to touch yourself so badly. Your nipples hardening under the sheer thin material of your tank top.

Pumping his cock faster in the toy, lube splashing all over his pelvis and wrist dripping down onto the of floor. He's making a total mess and he doesn't care. He thinks about how messy he could make you.

You interrupt him from his thoughts

"What do you wanna do to me?" You whisper.

"Fuuuck, I wanna do the nastiest things to you." His voice ragged.

Moving the toy up and down his cock as he spoke in the phone, trying to keep It balanced as best he could.

He lets out whimper, "Wanna fill you up with my cum and clean it out of you with my tongue."

"W-wanna..fuuuck...wanna cum all over those pretty tits." He's panting and grunting louder in your ear.

....."Yeah?" You cooed.

"Make you cum in all sorts of ways you never even imagined you could."

He legs kick up, and his stomach tightens. He was getting close but didn't want this to end, not yet.

You're still lying in bed, looking up at your ceiling. You never thought you'd have this burst of confidence yet again, but it's different with him. You don't feel ashamed of anything. The way he's coming undone just by talking to you only made you never want to stop. You felt empowered.

There is a throbbing ache between your legs that you desperately want to take care of. You try to ignore it and put all of your focus on him. You wiggle around clenching up. Doing anything to ease that ache.

"Tell me what you think about you when you touch yourself." He breathed.

"You think of me?"

"Yeah," you muttered quietly.

"So tell me." He commanded gently.

You stammered. "I um, I think about what you would feel like inside me."

"Oh yeah?" His voice getting low.

Goosebumps prickle all over your skin when he does that voice. You squirm in your bed just thinking about that night he used it when he helped you cum over the phone. It was domineering and seductive.

"Mmhm, you're so big." You whimper.

"I don't think I could fit all of you."

"Fuuuck." He groans

"You wanna feel my cock struggling to stretch you open? Is that it?"

You whined into the phone. "Yes, I need it so bad Eddie."

His cock steadily plunging in out of his toy in a brutal pace. He's getting closer to his release, and the phone drops with a loud thud in your ear. His other hand moving to cup his balls mimicking how you massaged them. His hips thrusting up and all you can hear is the squelching sound his cock is making in the toy.

"Oooh shit!" He groaned louder. With a few more strokes and he's spilling his cum inside the toy. Still pumping his length, milking himself of every drop. His cum spilling out and coating his balls. He lays there in the chair, head falling back before realizing he dropped the phone. His head all foggy, and his vision is blury.

He went to get up, but his legs gave out, and he fell back down.

"Shit"

"Fuck"

You heard him cursing from afar. You laughed to yourself, knowing he probably had fallen down.

"Hang on!" He called out

He leans over and reaches out far to snatch up the phone off the floor. His breathing is ragged when he goes to talk. "I've never came that hard in my life."

Smacking a hand on his belly he changes the subject.

"Okay, so what were you originally calling me about? " He asked still panting in the phone.

"Umm, well, I wanted to see if you were still up for going out again....Maybe?" You closed your eyes, waiting for his response.

"Yeah, actually, you know my band is playing Wednesday. Why don't you come see us." He said matter of factly. Like you didn't just help him jerk off on the other line.

You don't understand how one minute he can say some of the most dirtiest things to you and the next be totally nonchalant. All you want to do now is hang up and take care of the ache between your legs.

"I'd love to!" You accept his offer excitement etched in your tone.

He lets out a laugh. "Great, it's a date."

Before you both go to hang up, he stops you.

..."Oh, and thank you for helping me this time." His tone sultry.

Your eyebrows shot up, and you gulp. "No problem--it was fun."

"Goodnight, Eddie." You said sweetly.

"Goodnight, sweetheart."

You both stay on the line, neither one wanting to be the first to hang up. Eventually, you had to hang up first since it seemed like he wasn't going to be the one to do it. You roll over on your side, trying to relax and ready yourself for sleep. Your mind racing with excitement that you're finally going to see him play.

Maybe after your date, Eddie can take you back to his place this time. The ache between your legs was not subsiding. You needed him, and after your date, you decided it was time to have him.

[asimpforthe80s]

[strangererotica]

Soft!dom Eddie x Sub!Reader • Dom!Steve x Sub!Reader • Perv!Dirty Cop!Hopper x Reader

SMUT SMUT SMUT, minors DNI • Includes established MFM relationship, mentions of drugs & incarceration, abuse of power, spanking, rough sex with aftercare, angst, sex in the Blazer. Hopper is a manipulative asshole in this fic; only proceed if you’re comfortable reading his character from that perspective. <3

Eddie sat down heavily, frustrated, on the edge of the bed. He’d been in a weird mood all day, but it seemed his negative attitude had reached a peak. “Over my lap,” he ordered. You smirked back at him in silence, leaning with your ass against the dresser a few feet away. You weren’t going to budge.

Eddie’s eyebrows lifted at your audacity, his big eyes blinking back at you in surprise. He sat forward slightly, palms closed over his knees. “Okay,” he conceded. “You wanna be a brat, that’s fine. I’ll tell Steve when he gets home, let him deal with you…”

You winced, knowing from experience that if Steve delivered your punishment, you wouldn’t be able to sit comfortably for days. Steve’s hands were bigger than Eddie’s, and he had fewer reservations than Eddie did when it came to leaving marks.

Eddie’s lips twisted into a smug grin as you reluctantly made your way over to him, pulling your panties down. “That’s what I thought,” he teased. Eddie guided you onto his lap, your stomach resting over his thighs, head dipped toward the floor. He lightly groped the fat of your left cheek, before drawing back his hand and spanking you.

The sting was minimal, but the burn left in the wake of Eddie’s hand radiated through your muscles. A little shiver ran down your spine as Eddie’s breath blew cool between your shoulders. “What am I being punished for, Sir?” you asked. Eddie chuckled above you.

“You really don’t know?” he asked, before spanking you again. “Thats kind of adorable. You take my hand so well-.” *smack!* “-And you don’t even know what you’re being punished for. Just that I know what’s best for you…” *smack*

Eddie was switching between both sides of your ass, rubbing away the sting each of his strikes left behind. You were grateful for Eddie’s punishment and not Steve’s, because unlike Eddie, Steve never participated in any kind of aftercare. That was Eddie’s job; Steve left the tenderness up to him.

After fucking you into a wet, contented mess, Steve would just leave the room. He’d pull out of whichever of your holes he’d just obliterated, leaving you sloppy and swollen, letting his cum drip all over the place as he staggered off to the shower. Eddie’s job was to clean you up, to soothe your wounds after a particularly rough session, and to make you feel safe. Eddie would lick you head to toe, cleaning Steve’s cum off your skin and from inside whichever hole Steve had used.

You’d sometimes come again while Eddie was cleaning you up, and he’d give you lots of praises and encouragement for doing so. He’d kiss your pussy and tell you, from between your slick, quivering thighs, what a good job you’d done making Steve happy, and making him happy, too.

Eddie would then pull you into his arms and cuddle you to sleep. You’d drift off in the safety of his arms, with the comforting feeling of Eddie’s cock pulsing against your ass. When he was sure you were asleep, Eddie would carefully exit the bed and go relieve himself in the bathroom.

“Such a good girl,” he said softly, caressing the sensitive skin of your ass. “I’ll bet when people see you out and about in Hawkins, they’d never guess what a little freak you are behind closed doors…”

Eddie groped your ass, messaging away the pain. You shifted on his lap, his stiffening cock poking uncomfortably against your ribs.

“I’ll tell you,” Eddie said. “Why you had to be punished.” He guided you off his lap and seated you beside him on the bed. You waited for Eddie’s explanation. “Last night,” he began. “When we were fucking…you called me Jim.”

It was difficult, but you managed to conceal the wave of dread that rushed through you. Shit.

“And it got me thinking…” Eddie continued, his tone cautious, displeased. “…Do we know anyone named Jim?”

You avoided Eddie’s eyes, fearing the look of suspicion you’d undoubtedly see in them.

“Or maybe the real question is…” Eddie sighed, wrapping his arm around you, a soft (but intentional) act of dominance. “…Who do you know named Jim?”

You swallowed, stalling, your mind scrambling to make up a suitable response. You wouldn’t tell Eddie the truth, of course. That you were secretly fucking a man name Jim behind both Eddie and Steve’s back…that Jim was Chief Jim Hopper. You couldn’t tell Eddie that you and the Chief had agreed upon an arrangement of sorts, one which existed in order to keep Eddie out of prison…

Your boyfriend was a drug dealer. Everyone in Hawkins basically knew this about Eddie; but he’d somehow avoided being charged for possessing or selling illegal substances. At least, until a few months ago. Chief Hopper had followed an anonymous tip that had told him where Eddie was currently crashing. The tip had brought Hopper straight to the door of your apartment complex. He’d parked his Blazer in front of the building, and waited for Eddie to emerge.

With every intention of arresting Eddie, Hopper had waited, and watched. But when Eddie did emerge from behind the door, he wasn’t alone. He was with you. And from the way you were hanging on Eddie, lifting on your tiptoes to reach his neck for a kiss, it was more than obvious to Hopper that you and Eddie were a couple.

A rather sinister idea was born in Hopper’s mind…that if you cared for Eddie as much as it appeared you did, you’d likely be willing to do whatever it took to keep him out of trouble. Hopper chose to postpone Eddie’s arrest until he’d had the chance to confront you in private. The following afternoon, Hopper waited for you to leave the apartment alone, and then made his move.

Under the guise of arresting you for drug possession, Hopper had gone through the whole cuffing process, making sure to grope you more than he needed to in his search for any ‘weapons’ you may have had on you. Hopper loaded you into his vehicle, but put you in the front seat beside him instead of the back. When you questioned him what evidence he had against you, Hopper explained that he was actually there for a different reason.

“That scumbag boyfriend of yours,” Hopper started, and left the sentence hanging as if it didn’t require a conclusion. You didn’t bother explaining to Hopper that you had two boyfriends, because it wasn’t necessary. Given Eddie’s reputation in Hawkins as a metal-loving, devil-worshiping, pothead deviant, assuming Hopper was referring to Eddie made sense.

To play off your nerves, you pretended not to know about Eddie’s drug usage or selling. Batting your lashes at Hopper in an attempt at naïveté, you hoped to throw him off any suspicion of Eddie (and by association, you and Steve also). “You mean Eddie?”

Hopper smirked back at you, digging a cigarette from his pocket. Your charm wasn’t working on him. “Yeah,” he replied dryly. “Who the fuck else would I mean?” Hopper rested the cigarette between his lips and held his lighter beneath its tip. You watched it bloom and crackle alight, your heart rate steadily increasing. You knew that if Eddie were to be arrested, the cops would likely have enough evidence to lock him away for a long time. And that terrified you.

Affirming the direction your thoughts were taking, Hopper explained, “Reason I’m here now, talking to you instead of Eddie, is because l see how much you care about him.”

Hopper exhaled smoke in front of him, looking ahead through the windshield as he spoke. “You don’t wanna see Eddie do time…hell, I don’t want to see the kid get locked up, either…”

That was a lie, and you knew it. Hopper didn’t give a shit about someone like Eddie. “But he does have some serious charges against him…some that could land him years behind bars.”

You shuddered at the thought of Eddie missing from your life. You and Steve would have each other, of course…but without Eddie’s softness, there would only be Steve’s roughness. The tenderness Eddie showed you, the cuddling, the warmth, the gentle punishment rather than harsh, would be gone. Your world would be a darker, lonelier place, without Eddie in it…

“So what can I do?” you asked, unprepared for what Hopper did next. “I mean, how can I help Eddie?”

The Chief removed his cigarette and licked his lips, a lecherous little smile replacing his former look of compassion. His tone was colored with a husky, suggestive darkness when he spoke, his hand moving to rest atop your thigh… “I’m sure you and I can work something out...”

You gazed down at Hopper’s hand, watching his fingers boldly trace further between your legs. He didn’t react when you called him a pig, and when you asked “are you really that fucking desperate for a woman to touch you?” Hopper laughed, unaffected.

“Trust me, sweetheart,” he assured you, taking another relaxed drag of his cigarette. “I don’t need this…” Hopper slipped his hand deeper, till he was cupping your cunt in his palm. You drew in a shocked breath.

“…But if you want your loser boyfriend to stay out of prison-.” Hopper continued, slipping his fingers under the fabric of your panties. “-You do need me…”

There was a pause between you, as Hopper awaited your response. He let his fingers glide between your lips, gently spreading your labia apart. When Hopper’s thumb pressed against your clit, a soft whimper left your lips before you could stop it. He snickered callously; Hopper’s ego was boundless.

“Fine,” you conceded, after weighing your options (you had none). “If you promise to keep Eddie safe.” Your jaw was tensed in a look of defiance.

Hopper nodded his approval, a triumphant, sick grin on his face. He removed his hand from between your thighs with a groan, and placed it on the gear shift. “Atta girl,” he muttered over his cigarette, and put the Blazer in reverse.

Hopper pulled out of the building’s parking lot, and drove you somewhere private, a place where no one would see how he touched you, how his fingers pumped in and out of you in time with the rhythm of your hand around his cock. No one knew that twice a week for the past three months, you’d been fucking the town’s Chief of Police in the back of his squad car. And what only you knew, not even Hopper, was that you liked it.

You’d liked it the first time, and every time since. Hopper was older than Steve and Eddie, and with those years came an experience that was obvious in the way he fucked you. Hopper didn’t just lick your pussy; he made out with it, sloppy, filthy tongue-fucking you, smearing your slick, saturating his beard in the wet heat of you. He’d come up for air just long enough to breathe, before burying his face between your thighs again. Hopper smothered himself against your cunt, lapping long stripes up and down your slit, consuming you like a man taking his first meal in days…

Hopper was hung, and he knew how to use what Mother Nature had equipped him with. When you rode him, Hopper was always able to buck up into you without hurting you. He had a control over his body that few men you’d been with could claim. Being an exceptionally cocky, dirty bastard may have had something to do with Hopper’s confidence; but regardless, he’d obviously had a lot of practice fucking women.

You wondered sometimes how many women Hopper had been with. You vaguely recalled the rumors you’d heard whispered around town about Hopper’s reputation for pumping and dumping the women of Hawkins. But somehow, the rumors had failed to include the fact that Jim Hopper was a goddamn pro when it came to fucking.

The backseat of his police Blazer was cramped, but he fucked too well for you to mind the location. You would have let him have you anywhere, regardless of how uncomfortable, dirty, or inconvenient the place. Being folded up and pinned under the weight of Hopper’s body, his strong arms locking you in place, filled you with a sick sense of security. However toxic he was as a human being, Hopper’s ability to bring your body to rapture was unlike anything you’d ever experienced. The twisted arrangement between you and Hopper had quickly begun to feel more like a relationship.

Even when you were being intimate with Eddie and Steve, you found yourself longing for Hopper. The bed your boyfriends fucked you in was soft and warm, all silk sheets and fluffy pillows, lavender-scented candles arranged at the bedside. It used to be your sanctuary, your favorite place in the world.

But now, what turned you on more than silk sheets was the feeling of your ass being rut into the sweaty, polyester backseat of Hopper’s car. In exchange of the soft romance of lavender, you preferred the scent of Hopper’s aftershave and stale cigarettes, the musk of his sweat dripping from his chest to yours as he fucked you...

— Eddie squeezed his arm around you tighter, and it shook you from your thoughts of Hopper. “So tell me, baby,” Eddie pressed, a poorly-concealed suspicion in his voice. “Who do you know named Jim…?”

You tried to laugh it off, telling Eddie he must have misinterpreted the sounds you were making. “I was moaning a lot,” you teased, trying to distract him. Eddie stared at you for a moment, as if waiting for you to confess something. When he realized he wasn’t going to get anymore information out of you, Eddie offered you his hand to leave the bed. “Doesn’t matter, pretty girl,” he said with pleasant tone. “What d’you say we smoke a little, watch some TV, then head to bed?” Eddie pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. When he pulled away, there was a sadness in his eyes that the artificial smile on his lips couldn’t hide.

“I’d like that,” you replied, taking Eddie’s hand. He glanced at the clock beside the bed. “It’s late,” Eddie observed. “Better get our fun in now; Steve’ll be home from work soon...”

Steve Harrington wasn’t a jealous man. Or perhaps more truthfully, he was jealous and simply refused to acknowledge it. The relationship you and Eddie had together irritated Steve, because it was a level of intimacy he himself had never been a part of.

Unlike Eddie, Steve was able to hold down a full time job. Being away from the apartment the three of you shared for eight hours a day meant that Eddie had access to you that Steve did not. Eddie’s current employment status was, officially, unemployed. Unofficially, Eddie was quite a successful local drug dealer. Steve normally would have had nothing to do with the kind of guy Eddie was…but you loved Eddie, for reasons Steve could only guess at.

Maybe you loved Eddie because he was gentle, soft in all the places Steve couldn’t be. If there was an emotional switch inside of himself that Steve could have flipped, to make him the kind of soft dominant that Eddie was, Steve would have flipped it in a heartbeat. All he wanted, was to be wanted exclusively by you.

Steve had grown up in a home where affection was scarce, and almost never expressed. Watching the shit show of a marriage his parents had, Steve decided early on that he never wanted to be tied down to any one person. He’d constructed walls around his heart to protect him from any relationship a woman could offer him beyond sex. Meeting you had been a life-altering experience for Steve. Because despite all the years he’d spent hardening his heart, you’d entered Steve’s life and demolished them instantly…

The problem was, Steve still had so much emotional baggage to rid himself of, before he could love you the way you deserved to be loved. He didn’t want to be the mature, stoic presence in your life forever; but it’s all he knew how to be. Steve wanted to romance you, to spend his family’s generous fortune on something that mattered for a change: on your happiness.

But the man you loved, whose arms you drifted to sleep in every night, was a drug-dealing freak. The complete opposite of Steve, who’d barely smoked a single joint in his life, let alone tried the harder drugs Eddie was fond of using and distributing...

Steve left work for the evening and was grateful to be heading home, for the chance to be near you again. He drove his BMW to the apartment complex, pulling to a stop in his usual space. Steve would have entered the building as usual, without pause, if he hadn’t noticed a police vehicle pulling out of the lot just as he pulled in. Steve was always a little wary around cops, not for himself really, but because he didn’t want you to get in trouble for your association with Eddie.

Steve watched the car pull away, noting the lettering on its sides. “Chief,” he read aloud, and his anxieties multiplied. A standard police vehicle wouldn’t have concerned Steve as much, but the Chief of Police had apparently been to your building. Maybe Steve was being paranoid, but he needed confirmation that you were alright.

He walked briskly up the two flights of stairs to your apartment, and unlocked the door in a hurry. “(Y/N)?” Steve called into the dark front room. “Ed?” He rounded the corner to the bedroom and found you and Eddie asleep, in each other’s arms as usual. Steve lingered in the doorway, leaning against it, his heart rate slowing to normal. Of course he was only being paranoid, again. Whatever business the Chief of Police had at your building, it clearly did not involve Eddie. For the moment, anyway.

Steve sighed in relief, setting his briefcase on the couch. He loosened his necktie and made his way to the kitchen for something small to eat. After finishing his quick meal and a couple of beers, Steve returned to the bedroom. He watched your body softly sleeping, hair splayed in pretty waves across your pillow.

Steve climbed into bed beside you, and pressed his lips to your forehead in a gentle kiss he knew you wouldn’t feel. “Sweet dreams, angel,” he whispered. Steve wrapped his arms around you and held you closer than usual, wishing he could give you this same tenderness when you were awake. But Steve knew he was too cowardly for that, too frightened of revealing his love for you.

He held you a little closer than all the nights before, curved his body securely around yours more snugly than usual; because finally, Steve realized, it’s how he should have been holding you all along…