#eddie munson is blue collar

[kitchen-spoon]

God I need a Steddie gilmore girls au.

Steve as lorelai and Eddie as luke.

Its my first watch so i’m at the start of their on again off again. But even just a one shot of their first fight.

They have only been together a few months after being friends for years and having so much tension and love built up between them. Steve’s parents are renewing their vows they are on good terms because of Dustin or maybe Eleven? She would fit better but I know their relationship isn’t explored often (could do sibling steve got custody of) I’d love max but she is so not at all like rory.

Anyway. They go Eddie comes everything goes to shit. Tommy shows up because Steve’s father went to him. He wants Steve with someone ‘propper’. Both of them have been sort of awful to him. But Eddie loves Steve so he goes. Tommy realizes he cant get Steve from Eddie he gets drunk and sloppy with a last ditch effort.

Eddie’s had enough because Steve felt bad for Tommy because his father died and they had a bad relationship but he’s inherited the company. (Another reason why Steve’s father pushed Tommy). They drank and talked about old times. Nothing happens! It’s innocent! But Steve feels guilty and ignores Robin’s advice and doesn’t tell Eddie until that night.

Eddie leaves, Steve chases him but Eddie says he needs time. Steve feels like he is dying, he cant wait. He could fix it all if he could explain it! He was stupid so stupid he knows. But he pushes too hard and Eddie draws the line. He had said months back he was in. All in for all of it. He wanted to do this seriously. But it had become too much. Steve was too much and always would be.

They are both heartbroken. Steve is devastated, Robin worries and tries to help but Steve just forces himself to focus on the salon. Meanwhile Eddie is snapping at people at the garage he inherited from Wayne who had to retire because of his hip.

Steve cuts his father off in the process. So does eleven or dustin. Neither of them will speak to him but they are polite and kind to Steve’s mother. Eventually it breaks his father who goes to Eddie and admits he is wrong. He gives not so much a blessing but a admittance of defeat, knowing he truly cannot do anything about Eddie.

Eddie doesn’t even close and clean up properly. He just flicks the lights off and rushes over to Steve’s. Steve who was previously watching sad 80’s breakup movies in his old high school gym shorts and a swim team t shirt a few sizes too small is shocked to see him. But Eddie doesn’t wait and surges forward connecting their lips in a kiss Steve instantly melts into.

[sp0o0kylights]

PSEUDO DADS WAYNE AND HOPPER/BEAT TO SHIT STEVE HARRINGTON A03 LINK

S3 AU wherein Hopper calls in a favor and Wayne ends up hiding a beaten and battered Steve Harrington in his house.

Eddie's not happy about it.

SEPERATE POST FOR ANYONE WHO JUST WANTS THE A03 LINK

First chapter has all three parts together.

[vegetable-man]

Eddie, By the Book

A/N: You guys are so sexy for 100+ notes on my first ever fic. Come kiss me on the lips fr. I love a blue collar man. Eddie is a Mechanic because that’s so sexy why not. The kids are in their senior year of high school, if that helps with timeline. Eddie has been a mechanic for about 3 years and he’s pretty good at it. Wayne taught my boy. Enjoy :) ***inspired by buck meeks’ joe by the book*** 

Eddie, By the Book

For his eighteenth birthday, Lucas Sinclair bought a new car.

Well, it wasn’t new persay, but it was enough to make him puff up his chest when he would drive Max to and from school or pick her up for a dinner date. It didn’t matter that the engine shook when the temperature was below 45 degrees… right? God forbid he would have to send it to Hawkins’ only mechanic and get charged more than it was worth to fix it.

That’s what went through Lucas’ mind as he drove slowly through the streets of Hawkins.

Now, you might ask where he was going, and he would tell you that he was going to the mechanic anyway. But, with three passengers Dustin, Will, and Mike, it wouldn’t be such a plausible story. The truth was that he and his best friends were going to meet up with Max and Eleven to watch the new space invaders. It was embarrassing that he was now stranded with a stalled car.

“What the fuck are we going to do now?” Mike muttered and kicked the back wheel.

“I don’t know man, maybe we can ask El to ask Hopper to pick us up?” Lucas was trying to solve the problem before Mike blew up at him.

“No, that’s embarrassing Lucas! You know what, maybe, we should call your mom and ask her to drop us off”

“We can’t do that”

“Yes we can Lucas, and I’m going to call her right now” Mike opened the backseat door to grab his cinderblock telephone, courtesy of El who wanted to make sure he could always answer her calls even when he was out.

Lucas beat him to it and slammed the door shut before Mike could reach for the phone next to Will who seemed entirely unbothered.

“If we call my mom I’ll never hear the end of it. We can’t call her, she told me not to buy the car Mike! Just because you’re going to miss making out with-“

“Yeah Lucas! I’m going to miss making out with my GIRLFRIEND who actually likes me. You’re not missing anything with Max. You should get paid to waste my time because you’re pretty fucking good at it-“

“Guys, guys, GUYS!” Dustin interrupted. “I have an idea.” Looking at both Mike and Lucas in the eyes as they calmed down to pay attention to him, Dustin spoke “we can push it down to the Auto shop and have Eddie take a look”

Lucas interrupted “listen man, I don’t have the money to be spending on getting this shit fixed, honestly, let’s call El and she can move it with her-“

“Yeah you would use my girlfriend to fix your problems. When do you ever-“

And they went at it again.

Five minutes later, Lucas realized he had no choice but to push it four miles down the road to the Auto shop where Eddie worked. It was embarrassing directing a four-man crew to push his car through Hawkins.

“Yank the wheel Will, make sure it’s in Neutral!” Dustin yelled.

Will responded with a silent thumbs up extended out the driver’s side window.

As the three boys pushed the car, and Will drove it, Dustin reassured Lucas that Eddie could fix his car for less than he paid for it.

“No seriously Lucas, he’s by the book, he fixed Y/N’s Cadillac a while back and he didn’t even charge her for it. Lent her a car in the meantime and everything”

“Dustin, we’re missing something here” Lucas stopped pushing to look at Dustin “He’s not in love with me”

Dustin laughed “yeah well obviously, he’s not gonna do your shit for free, I’m just saying”

Lucas sighed.

….

Two years ago

While you recently enrolled in a local college, slowly getting a degree part-time, Eddie had been working at Riley’s Auto Shop for a year and a half. It was an easy hire when he finally graduated high school. Wayne knew a guy, who knew a guy sorta thing. Truth was, Eddie was a master at working with his hands. Back when he got his first car, the van he oh so loved, he almost took the entire thing apart just to put it back together again.

When you asked what he was doing, he said, “I need to see behind the curtain sweetheart, what am I gonna do when this thing blows up?”

And he was right. Not so much as two months later, the transmission blew. Luckily, Eddie (with a little help from Wayne) quickly figured out how to fix it and got his baby back on the road in less than a day. It was an ego booster in the way that Eddie hadn’t known, apart from you of course, and he then became the trailer park’s own mechanic.

That’s why, when your car was making a humming noise before almost-not starting, you went crying to Eddie.

Of course, this was an overstatement, even if you did have tears in your eyes when you pulled up to the shop.

The crunch of your tires on the cracked asphalt alerted Eddie that a new customer was pulling in. He thought that it was probably some teenager coming in to get their oil changed or a new inspection, rolling his eyes and coming out from underneath a BMW which needed an electrical fix.

Wiping his hands on a nearby rag, Eddie walked a bit out of the garage to see that it was, in fact, you in the parking lot. Eddie immediately smiled and waved, happy to see his best friend, a girl he had been in love with since the fourth grade, visiting him at work. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. You had brought him lunch so many times before that Eddie thought he had swooned more than any man had ever on the history of earth.

His smile faltered as he saw you, red-rimmed eyes, step out of the car and towards him.

“What’s wrong sweetheart?” He opened his arms to hug you and despite the black oil stains on his white tank top, you fell into his embrace.

With your head against the upper right side of his chest, tucked between his chin and shoulder, you sniffed “something’s wrong with my car teddy.”

He looked down at you on his chest and squeezed your waist “well, that’s not a problem you know I can fix it for you.” He tried to send you a soft smile to reassure you, tilting his head down but he couldn’t reach your eyes.

After a bit of silence, and you soaking up the small caresses that Eddie was dragging across your back and up and down your arms, Eddie tried to crack you again “what’s wrong bub, why are you so upset?”

Eddie always knew how to slip through the walls, and he knew he hit a nerve when he could feel your shoulders shake and head bury further into the tendrils of hair fallen out of his bun.

“I have a test tomorrow,” you choked “and I’m trying to study but I’m stressed about my car and I’m not even going to be able to drive to school tomorrow. Teddy, I’m just frustrated and embarrassed.”

“Why are you embarrassed?” He asked, confused.

“I don’t know, I just am.”

Without missing a beat, Eddie said “Take my car”

“Huh?”

“Honey, take my car, and I’ll figure out what’s wrong with your little monster” Eddie was soothing and his big hands were keeping your shoulders and waist close to his torso. You could smell the sweat and feel the vibrations of his low tone as he tried to save you some grief.

“No Eddie, I can’t” you breathed “If I can make-“

“What am I if I can’t fix your problems Y/N?” Eddie had always felt his responsibility to take on a portion of the burdens that you faced, even when he knew you were more than equipped to handle them. It made him feel useful, it made him feel like a man. Something that his father tried so hard to take away from him when he was a kid. Eddie wanted to care for you, he wanted to show you he could be there and provide for you. That if you were in a pinch, you wouldn’t panic because you knew ‘Eddie’s coming to fix it’.

With a kiss to your temple, Eddie dug his car keys out of his work pants pocket and handed them to you.

“Go home, eat something, study, and come back tomorrow. I’ll have this all figured out okay?” Eddie looked at you in the eyes as you sniffled and then kissed his cheek.

“Okay, but if you can’t fix it tonight it’s okay I promise, and tell me how much-“

“Go home sweetheart” he chided.

“Okay, love you”

“I love you too”

Eddies heart always raced when you said that. As much as he was in love with you, and he knew you were in love with him, he felt it necessary to prove to you he could be good for you before he officially asked you out.

As if he hadn’t been proving that since the fourth grade.

…

“Apparently it was a really hard job but he got it done for her in less than a day. I swear Lucas if there’s anyone who can fix this for you its Eddie.”

The four boys, and beat up car, were less than a mile away from the auto shop and, conveniently, outside of a gas station. Dustin, Mike, Lucas, and Will stopped in to get some drinks and snacks and cool off before going back outside and finishing the hike.

Sitting under the air conditioning unit, the boys couldn’t be bothered to look up when the doorbell rang to signal an incoming customer.

If they didn’t see him, they sure as hell heard him “Thirty on four please.”

As if they were stranded in a desert hearing the drip of water, all the boys head’s snapped up to see Eddie’s form retreating out of the gas station to the pump to fill a dark green Cadillac.

“EDDIE! EDDIE!” They yelled.

Eddie almost dropped the large Smartfood bag and blue slushy as he tried to place it in the car and looked up to see four teenagers, no, young men, barreling toward him.

“Eddie!” Lucas breathed heavily. “I need-“

Dustin interrupted him “Lucas’ deadbeat car stalled and we’re late for a movie and listen, morale is low”

Eddie chuckled and looked around to find Lucas’ tan, minus the rust, car sitting on the side of the road. “Did you…. Push it all the way here?” Eddie inspected the young men’s sweaty shirts and damp hair.

Yeah, they pushed it all the way here.

Before they could answer, Eddie winced and shook his head. “Just get in the car.” They sighed in relief and went to open the doors “WAIT” Eddie yelled “this is the missus’ car, I don’t want to see a spec of dust or sweat or anything. Don’t eat in the car and don’t spill anything either.” He looked around at the four boys who vehemently nodded. “Okay, get in”

Eddie filled up the green Cadillac and then took off to the auto shop. It was not even a five minute drive, but nevertheless a thirty minute push from where Lucas’ car stood.

Pulling up to the auto shop, Dustin saw that Eddie was the only mechanic on shift. Metal was lowly playing on the radio. Weekends were pretty slow anyway, and Eddie liked to take it slow when he could. Getting out of the car with their snacks and drinks in tow, Eddie included, the five of them entered the air-conditioned office of the auto shop.

From a small window, Dustin could see you, head in one hand and pencil in the other. You looked to be concentrating on something, almost frustrated as you massaged your forehead and dropped your pencil to close your eyes and sigh. Eddie gently opened the door with his elbow, and walked into the lit room. You turned your head to look at Eddie and caught the eyes of the four boys. With an enthusiastic wave you smiled and then turned to Eddie, smile growing brighter at the sight of the popcorn and slushy in his hands.

He gently pecked you on the lips and placed the food and drink on the table with your papers. In lieu of holding the goods, his hands massaged your shoulders and he spoke to you softly.

Dustin could not catch the words he was saying to you. Probably something about how he now had another car to fix or that he wanted some slushy, Dustin had no idea.

Giving Eddie another kiss and a squeeze of his hand you turned back to the paper and Eddie left the room. He quietly closed the door and cleared his throat at the boys gawking at him.

“I’m gonna get the truck to tow your car,” he spoke directly to Lucas and then turned to the group entire “do not bother Y/N, she’s busy with homework, you can eat in the main office.”

Although the boys would have liked to talk to you for a bit, not having much time since you recently enrolled full time in your university, they respected the man who was going to fix Lucas’ car and, ultimately, get them to the movies. If Eddie said you were busy, you might as well have been drafting letters to the Pope.

If Lucas wanted to leave with his wallet intact, he would respect your space and Eddie’s commands.

Within five minutes, Eddie’s work truck was bounding down the road with Lucas’ car in tow. In another twenty minutes Eddie had diagnosed the car with a faulty fuel line and then immediately went to the car yard to get the part and patch the sucker up.

It took Eddie about forty minutes to fix the problem.

Lucas felt like he was floating, but then again, maybe it was his wallet from the bill Eddie was going to give him.

Lucas winced as Eddie wiped his hands on his work pants and timidly asked “How much Eddie?”

Eddie pretended to think, counting on his fingers and then suddenly looking at Lucas.

“Free”

“What?”

“Free, go to dinner or something.” Eddie turned towards the office.

“But-“

Eddie quickly interrupted, “Say hi to the girls for me!” and slammed the door of the office where you were still focused on the work in front of you.

Lucas looked around to the other three boys and quickly got into the car as if Eddie could change his mind at any moment. The boys were still outside the car, slowly moving towards the door when Lucas shouted a “LETS GO” and almost peeled out of the garage and towards the movie theaters to pick up the girls and, hopefully, make it up to them with some dinner.

Inside the office where you found yourself consumed by your homework, Eddie pulled up a chair next to you and leaned on your shoulder.

“That was so sexy” you poked at his thigh.

Eddie cheesed “who am I to get in the way of young love” leaning toward you and looking up into your eyes with the most love you’ve ever seen.

You gave a genuine belly laugh “you’re so stupid” you examined his face.

Eddie gave you a toothy smile and headbutted your shoulder as you picked up the pencil again and got back to work.

[oneforthemunny]

light my morning sky |rockstar!eddie munson x nepo baby!reader|

prompt: three wedding ceremonies, and it's stop number two in vegas. a night with your friends, celebrating you the way both of you love, and it leads to a rather intense wedding night for the two of you in sin city.

contains: minors dni. smut. fluff but mainly smut. drugs and alcohol, overall just partying in vegas. getting married in vegas. dom!eddie x sub!reader. bratty overtones to sub!reader. more of a soft!dom with rockstar!eddie bc he's in loooveeeee. spanking with implement (paddle/crop). thigh riding kinda. crawling. pinvsex. language. nothing too harsh or mean bc it's their (second) wedding night lol.

"I now pronounce you married." Elvis, or one of his many replicas on the strip, rasped in his low, exaggerated drawl mimicking the beloved singer. His hair perfectly coiffed, sideburns trimmed, and dressed in a black jumpsuit with wings, red and gold sequins trim.

Flamboyant, over the top- it was Eddie's dream.

Eddie grinned at you, his hands in yours, thumb brushing over the large stone on your left hand. He looked like The King himself in his white tasseled suit, pointed collar, and blue beading down the deep V of his shirt- an identical suit made to look exactly like Elvis' infamous jumpsuit from his time in Las Vegas in the 70's. It had been a prop in some show your father was producing, one that you and Eddie borrowed after the wedding.

"Eddie, you may now kiss your little darlin' here." The officiant grinned, stepping back towards the faux-rose garland, strung with bright lights.

Your heart swelled in your chest, just as light and giddy as the first ceremony, letting Eddie cup your face, pulling you in to seal with a kiss, far more passionate and needy than the ceremony in California.

Cheers erupted from the small crowd of friends you'd rallied for the big day- well, the second big day. Their booze soaked giggles and screeches mashed to the tune of Can't Help Falling In Love pouring out of the static filled old speakers. Flashes blinded your vision, even behind your closed eyes, camera clicks and bright snaps of camera light capturing every moment.

For a moment, you tensed, aware of your rounded shoulders, of Eddie's hand grabbing at your ass, eyes opening and cutting towards the aisle. Jonathan stood there, face hidden by the camera. Eddie had insisted his friend from Hawkins come instead, replace the snooty photographer that had done the ceremony before. Your parents had raved about him, but Eddie didn't see what the big deal was with him. He just made you both look so stiff, so unnatural in your portraits.

Eddie's hand slid up the silk material of your tiny dress, gripped onto your hip, bunching the material. You could feel his wedding band in the small of your back when he pressed his hand there, steadying you before he tipped you back. A deep dip of a kiss, your thigh hiked around his hip.

The small bouquet of white roses you'd bought at the front of the chapel fell onto the patterned carpet, your friends' screeching and whooping laughs ignited by the dramatics. They expected nothing less from Eddie- from both of you.

"Lord have mercy," The officiant laughed, fanning himself dramatically, long metallic sleeves rippling. "These two have lots of hunk-a, hunk-a burnin' love, don't they folks?"

Eddie could feel your lips twitch against his, a snort of a giggle, hot air blowing against his lip. His dopey and dimpled grin met you when you finally pulled apart. It left you weak, blistering in his intense, love filled gaze.

A pop of Perignon filled the room, Gareth and Farrah bumbling closer with two glasses, trying to stop the excess spilling over. A celebratory toast to the two of you, to keep your buzz going after the break in the bender you took for the ceremony.

Since you'd landed on Thursday night, the party hadn't stopped. Liquor flowing, loud music, sloppily piling into a stall with your own friends, taking bumps off your room keys before stumbling back to the club in your designer shoes, ready to keep the party going.

The afterparty was no different. Tucked away in a private villa at Ceasar's, you didn't make it to the club. Eddie had insisted he had to go first, nearly pushing Jeff over to get to the door, scooping you up in his arms and walking you through the door.

"Watch your fuckin' head, baby- don't lean back." You could smell the alcohol on his breath, a pungent mixture of too many to name, mixed with the faintest whiff of smoke from his cigarettes.

It didn't take long for Nick to find the boom box, blaring his party mixtape at a wall shaking volume, everyone scattering. Some to the kitchen to scour through the piles of empty bottles for a full one, others to collapse into the couch and let someone line up a pick me up before plunging in the hot tub outside.

"You," Eddie slurred, his head dipping down to press against your forehead. "Look so fuckin' beautiful." Nose brushing against yours, red from his own party favors.

You giggled nasally, blinking blearily eyed to focus on him to close to you. The effects of the tequila and champagne and hodge podge of liquor you'd mixed and consumed catching up with you.

"You know what, baby? You look really good, Mr. Munson." You whispered, hand cupping his jaw. "Like- hic!- too good to be fucking true."

"You're sweet talkin' me? Huh? Bein' s'nice to me?" Eddie grinned, fingers sinking into your hips.

"Yeah." You hummed.

"Tryna get my pants off or somethin', huh, baby? G-Get in my pants by bein' so sweet? You think that's gonna work?" Eddie teased, tilting his head to the side.

"Yeahhh..." You nodded, staggering against him, manicured nails raking down his bare chest. "We have to- to consummate the marriage, Ed."

"What?" Eddie furrowed his brows. "We gotta do what? Wait- I thought you wanted to fuck."

You laughed, head tilting back letting out that mean little cackle that always got Eddie worked up- a little mocking, mostly genuine. It left him flushed in heat, crawling up his chest and splattering over his cheeks.

"You dumbass, that is what that means." You rolled your eyes at him.

Eddie's eyes narrowed with you, catching your chin easily. "Oh? That's how you wanna play tonight, hm?" He shook his head, your body erupting in a fiery heat. "You're not gonna be nice to me?"

"I'm always nice to you." You countered, hand closing around his wrist gently, steadying yourself. "You're the one who's mean."

"Yeah?" Eddie grinned, eyes shining, glimmering in the low light of the room, the music from the other side thudding in a low roar, still shaking the walls. "You want me to be mean to you tonight? That's how you wanna do this?"

"Yeah." You sighed, a devious little grin that had Eddie's heart swelling, body buzzing with bouts of electricity. A shock to his system that brought him into something animalistic and primal and thrilling. Something new he only felt with you.

"I was hopin' you'd want to. Figured you would. Went ahead and got you a little somethin'." Eddie hummed, pulling you close into him. His breath hot on your cheek, booze soaked and warm on your skin.

"A gift?" Your eyes lit up, bright and devious all at once. Positively troublesome.

"Yeah. A gift. Just for you, baby." Eddie's lip dragged over your cheek, nose, hands sliding up your neck into your hair. "A wedding gift, but-but not for the wedding. For the after."

"Mm," You moaned lightly, his lips brushing with yours, teasing. Just enough to make you want to kiss him fully, leave you waiting and wanting more. "It's after now, Ed." You batted your lashes up at him.

"Is it?" Eddie muttered, fingers curling around your hair the back of your head.

"Yeah." You whispered, voice raspy from the liquor. "Time to give me my gift."

"Ooh, you're gonna be demanding?" Eddie pulled back from you, holding you at arms length so he could see you. Your pout, glassy eyes rounding instinctively- a classic look, teetering on demanding and begging, a signature look for you.

"'M not being demanding." You huffed, hands sliding over his arms. He could feel the diamonds of your wedding band scratch lightly over his skin. "You said you had a gift for me."

Eddie bit back a smirk, squeezing your shoulders with firm, gentle affection. You grinned triumphantly when he stumbled to his closet, puling a red gift bag tied together with a gold bow.

He smirked at your squeal of delight, hands clapping together excitedly when he gave you the bag. "What is it?" You beamed, a peal of excited, drunken giggles spilling from your chest.

"Open it." Eddie clicked, shaking his head at you. "What's in it- open the damn thing, baby. It's a present. 'M not tellin' you w-what I got you." His words slurred, still silly and playful.

You laughed, head spinning and intoxicatingly airy with glee, unraveling the gold spun ribbon with a dramatic tug of your hand. Underneath the piles of tissue paper, a long box lied at the bottom.

There, inside the felt lined box, a small heart shaped paddled. Black and leather, with a black, metal handle. It was small, smaller than most of Eddie's chosen paddles. The heart shape at the end firmer than the crop, not as flimsy as you expected.

"Look," Eddie pointed, swaying gently in front of you. He turned the handle clumsily around his hands before he turned it to you. There in etched gold, your names and the date carved into the metal handle.

"Ed." You cooed, head tilting back to meet his gaze. "You got this f'me?"

"Well, kinda." Eddie nodded. "I mean, for me to use on you, but yeah. Wanted something to-to remember this by."

Lips pulling in a smile, you stood, arms wrapping around his waist, pulling him flush to your own chest. "You're so sweet." You hum, swaying with him softly. "So sweet to me."

Eddie's cheeks flushed, matching the drunken red heat painted on his neck. "Yeah." He hummed, hands sliding over your cheeks, smearing your already rubbed off foundation, tilting your head back towards him.

"'M not gonna be sweet to you f'long." He muttered, lip twitching in a curling grin. Staticky prickles of excitement licked at your neck, shimmering all the way down to your core. Eddie's tongue ran over his teeth, brow raising. "That alright with you, baby?"

"Yes." You whispered, nails digging into his hands lightly, steadying yourself.

Eddie caught your chin, pulling your gaze towards him. "Who?" His tone dropped, low and raspy but punctuated.

The nervous, maybe excited, giggle spilled out of your lips before you could stop it. Eyes shining, swaying with excitement, you batted your lashes towards him. "Yes, Sir." You purred, hands sliding, nails raking down his forearms.

Eddie grinned, ducking down to catch your lips in a hungry kiss. Hand pressed to the small of your spine, you could taste the liquor on his tongue as it slid past your teeth. A sloppy, needy, alcohol fueled make out. Hands grabbing, pulling at the other, pushing your bodies closer and closer together until it felt like they might fuse together, mold into one. Hands sliding, bunching the material of your dress up your hips.

"Wait!" Your eyes flew open, pulling apart with an urgency that had Eddie jumping.

"What? What's wrong?" Eddie's brows furrowed, vision fading blearily in and out of focus.

"I forgot," You turned towards your suitcase. "I bought something special for tonight. S-Somethin' to put on." You muttered, swaying drunkenly, hands on his waist to steady yourself.

"Baby, it's alright. Just save it for tomorrow-"

"-No." Your tone was cutting, huffy with a hint of demanding- bratty. You did it best, Eddie supposed, his cock twitching at the sound.

He wanted to grab the paddle, haul you over his knee right then, feel you scratch and scream at him like old times. Instead, he let you stomp off, bunching a flash of white material to your chest, stumbling towards the bathroom.

It was worth it, Eddie decided. Legs spread on the edge of the bed, knee bouncing with anticipation until the doors opened.

"Are you ready?" He could hear your grin, hidden by the door.

"Yeah. Show me, baby. Come on out." Eddie's lips tugged in a half grin.

The door opened painfully slow, your own teasing reveal, until you stood before him in a tiny, white, see through lacy lingerie set. A classic, more scandalous and revealing than before. Bra and panties so revealing it left little to the imagination, hip hugging garter that connected to two leg holders, both with their own loops. Eddie pictured for a moment tying you up by them, stringing the rope through them, tying your legs wide open and spending the rest of the night- hell, the whole week in between them.

Maybe tomorrow night. Tonight, he had other plans.

Eddie's loud wolf whistle mixed with your bubbling giggles. "Holy shit, baby, look at you. No, look at me, but I wanna look at you." Eddie rasped, hands sliding over your exposed skin, rubbing the lace of your garter, pulling the tiny strap of your panties so it snapped to your skin.

"You like it?" You whispered, watching his eyes carefully. You knew he did. He always did.

"You kidding? Love it." Eddie grinned. "Worth the wait, beautiful."

Your cheeks burned with a rush of euphoric excitement, hands sliding up his shoulder, your ring sparkling even under the dim lights of the room.

"Ok, I'm ready now." You said boldly, lashes batting up to Eddie sweetly. "I just wanted to put this on for you."

"Oh? You're ready?" Eddie snorted lightly, lips curling in a smirk. "You callin' the shots?"

You huffed, an eye roll that had Eddie swallowing hard, trying to ignore the throbbing of his cock. "No," Your tongue clicked sarcastically. "Obviously you're in charge for right now."

"Oh, it's like that?" Eddie scoffed. "You're gonna act like that?"

"I'm not acting like anything, Ed." You bit your lip playfully. "I don't know what you're talking about." Oh, you were playful tonight. Eddie's heart swelled, palms twitching with excitement.

"Hm," Eddie hummed, tongue running down the inside of his cheek.

"Why don't you go get your gift." Eddie nodded towards the discarded paddle at the other end of the bed. You stepped towards it. "Nuh-uh-uh." Eddie clicked, head shaking.

"You know how you're supposed to get things for me." His eyes darkened, narrowing towards you.

Your thighs twitched, aching between them with a familiar heat. "Ed," Whiny and nasally, shoulders slumping for effect.

"You're gonna whine? C'mon, I know you know better." Eddie shook his head. "I don't wanna be mean to you tonight. Not too mean, anyways. Don't make me be mean. Go get your gift and bring it here, you know what to do. You be good for me, and I'll be good to you."

It didn't take much convincing, not when your head was spinning the way it was, desperate to please him. You knew he was true to his word, that he'd make you feel so good, which was exactly why you sunk to your knees. Crawling across the carpeted floors, you crept slowly towards the paddle.

Eddie watched through heavy lids, the sway of your hips, tiny panties riding up into your ass with every crawl. Your eyes met his when you raised up, gently grabbing the paddle off the bed. Eddie's heart lurched with excitement when you slipped it between your teeth, sinking back to your knees.

"Holy shit... Baby," Eddie groaned, leg shaking furiously when you rounded the corner of the bed, crawling straight for him. "Look at you. Jesus Christ, you know what you're doin'?"

You sunk back on your knees, settling between Eddie's open legs, eyes rounded so sweetly up at him it answered his question- you knew exactly what you were doing to him.

"'M just trying to be good." You whispered sweetly, head tilting to the side when he took to the paddle from you. "I just want to be so good for you always and forever, Mr. Munson."

Eddie thought he might snap the paddle in half, grip strangling in a tight hold around the pole. For a second, he contemplated again diving right between your legs, kinky foreplay be damned. Instead, he pulled you over his knee, let you straddle his thigh, covered cunt hot on his knee.

"Look at me." Eddie rasped, pulling your chin up, letting it rest on his chest, your body folded over his. "I wanna look at you. Wanna see you the whole time."

You pressed your lips together, swallowing back a pathetic whine. One hand cradling the back of your head, the other dragging the paddle along your exposed cheeks.

"You wanna be good for me?" Eddie whispered. You didn't reply, didn't get the chance to before the paddle snapped onto your ass. A jump, a whine, followed by Eddie's coaxing whisper back onto his knee.

"I asked you somethin', sweetheart." Eddie muttered, the crop tapping your other cheek. "You wanna be good for me?" Two sharp hits one to each cheek had you hissing.

"Yes." You hissed through gritted teeth, stilling your hips not to grind on him, hump his leg mercilessly. You knew that'd just fuel his cruel teasing even more.

"Yeah?" You yelped at the sharp sting.

"Yes, I wanna be good for you." Your spine ached at the uncomfortable bend in position, still you didn't dare move. It was true, you did want to be good for him.

"Are you going to be good for me?" Eddie whispered, nose nearly touching yours.

You bit back a giggle, stopped by three more sharp spanks of the crop to your ass, already itchy with growing agitation. "Yeah." Your eyes shone up at Eddie's, a silly, love sick grin that had him swooning.

"Yeah?" Eddie mocked back with a light snort. It was growing harder to keep the mean, domineering persona he tried to. When you were being this sweet, when you were being so good for him.

The crop fell again, this time your hips did roll. Just enough to dull the ache between your legs, a momentary release that had you melting further into his chest.

Eddie didn't miss it, pulling you closer to him, readjusting you on his thigh. "I don't know if I believe you." Eddie hummed, cracking the crop down again in short, sharp successions. "Are you really gonna be good to me? For the rest of time?"

You whimpered, hips rocking slowly, a steady rhythm that nearly had your eyes rolling back. The burning stretch of your ass mixed with the slow, pleasure-filled rolls of your hips.

"I will, I promise." You hummed in a high, breathy tone. "I swear I will be. I'll be a good wife for you. Forever and ever and ever."

Eddie's heart nearly burst at the words. How sweet they still sounded, even if you had technically been his wife for a few weeks now.

He let the paddle fall, his hands grabbing at your waist, pulling you into his lap. Lips on yours, your legs wrapping around his hips before he rolled the two of you, body slotting over yours, drunken giggles filling the air.

Hand intertwining with the other, Eddie's eyes rolled back at the feeling of your ring scraping over his when he finally slid into you. Mrs. Munson, forever. Forever his, just as he was forever yours.

Eddie had you pressed against the window of the suite, hips rutting into the fat of your ass, marked with the etching heart shape of the paddle. Overlooking the city's skyline, the sun was just beginning to peak over the horizon. Your cheek pressed to the window, Eddie's pressed to yours, skin smushed to skin, the two of you weren't close to being done. Just getting started, started on forever, started on a life together.

For now, in a hotel room in Vegas, insatiably happy and in love with one another. Mr. and Mrs. Munson, for the second time.

[hawkinsbnbg]

standin' at that altar, or we will run away

prompt: sneaking around | @steddiesmuttyseptember

tags: exes to lovers, bathroom sex, daddy kink, barebacking, creampie, top Eddie, possessive Eddie, bottom Steve, babygirl Steve, steddie in love.

word count: 1k7 | rated: E | ao3

Steve sipped his wine and sighed inwardly. It was too early to ingest the alcohol, but knowing his parents would criticize him no matter what, he didn't have any reason to behave himself.

If they thought being late was a power move, then he should be allowed to drink all of their expensive wine.

At least, he snorted humorlessly, waiting for them was better than another blind date.

Steve was a little tipsy when he finally saw him.

Black suit jacket, white open-collared, ironed trousers, and shiny shoes. His long curls were pulled up in a ponytail, tattoos visible on the back of his hands and fingers—adorned with silver chunky rings.

Since the restaurant wasn't exactly packed, it was criminally easy to pick out a familiar face among the sea of dining patrons.

Steve knew he was staring, but Eddie Munson wouldn't be a thorn in his side if the man stopped looking good even for a second.

Especially when he dressed up, a once-in-a-blue-moon thing that would make Steve weak in the knees.

He watched Eddie empty a glass of water and set it down, then stand up from the table and walk away.

Steve loosened his tie and sat there for a moment longer, glancing at his watch to check the time before also getting up and leaving his table.

———

Steve couldn't believe he would follow his ex of all people into a restaurant's bathroom. Which, sadly, wasn't news at all.

Because if there was nothing to stop him, he would follow Eddie to the end of Earth and even beyond death.

Perhaps, Steve supposed, he was a bigger freak than he gave himself credit for.

"Ed– Oof!"

He was pulled into a sturdy chest as soon as he opened the door.

The sight of Eddie—tall and broad shouldered—with his shirt's sleeves rolled up to the elbows, revealing more of the intricate inks, would forever be ingrained in Steve's brain.

A ringed hand came up to hold his chin aloft, dark brown eyes regarded him with an unreadable look before plump lips descended on his own, seizing him in a fervent kiss.

As his pants were stripped and long slicked fingers pressed into him, Steve couldn't remember why he didn't want to trail after Eddie in the first place.

In the mirror, he looked debauched with his disheveled appearance; tousled hair, unbuttoned shirt, red swollen lips, and hickey-covered neck.

All the while, Eddie's gaze felt like a physical touch on him—scorching, heavy, and ravenous.

Steve had missed it; the feeling of being desired and adored in the same touch and in all one breath. It was intoxicating, got him light-headed more than any alcohol or drug.

"More," he pushed his hips back, one hand hooking behind Eddie's neck while the other splaying on the bathroom counter. He clenched around the fingers working inside him, hoping they would be replaced by something bigger soon.

"Such a greedy little thing, hm?" Eddie mouthed the column of his throat and stroked his prostate relentlessly, drawing punch-drunk moans from him. "My fingers not enough for you, princess?"

Steve shook his head frantically. He wanted Eddie; whole and scalding and everything. He wanted and wanted until his body was torn into pieces, reaching its limit and incapable of containing his greed, his hunger—

His love for this beautiful man.

And oh, he had said it again, didn't he?

I love you, I love you, I love you.

Unrestrained. Unashamed. Unrepentant.

Eddie made a wounded noise like it was punched right out of him.

And while Steve loved like the sun, burning and consuming; Eddie loved like the moon, tender and forgiving.

Embracing him in warmth and affection even when he was the one at fault. Even when he had been a coward and run away.

"Missed you, Daddy," he trembled in the safety of those strong arms, barely able to conceal the desperation in his voice. "Need it so bad– Please–"

"Anything, baby," Eddie clutched his waist in a bruising grip, sounding hoarse and shaky, as he pushed slowly into him, stretching him open, tearing him asunder. "Anything."

Steve dropped his mouth in a silent moan, squeezing his eyes shut when Eddie set up a brutal pace right off the bat.

Neither of them had much time to savor this sacred moment. A reunion after two months apart. A drop of morning dew sliding off a green leave.

And he let Eddie use his body, slamming into him with an urgent need—as if his inside was the hearth of life, as if Eddie needed to be balls deep in him like air—chasing the blazing flame that they were both after.

"Am I that girl you dream of, baby?" Eddie grabbed his jaw to make him meet those crazed eyes in the mirror, hot lips pressing against his artery—thumping like a hummingbird. "Does she pamper you the way I did? Does she make love to you and fuck you like this? Does she tie you up? Eat you out until you cry and beg for her cock?"

"There's no one–" Steve was interrupted by the insistent knocks on the door. And suddenly remembered that they were very underdressed in a public setting.

Not that it had ever stopped Eddie from bending him over the nearest surface and going to town.

"Fuck off!" Eddie shouted at the door with a scowl.

"Yeah, fuck off," Steve giggled.

His parents would definitely have a coronary if they found out their straight son was given the pounding of his life in a bathroom. And right in a restaurant under the Harrington's name, nonetheless.

"Wanna share with the class what's so funny, darlin'?" Eddie rolled his hips and Steve's laughter suddenly cut into a strangled moan.

The constant pressure on his prostate wasn't a joke, making Steve drool and lose his mind.

"Love you, Daddy," he babbled incoherently, not caring that it didn't make any sense. "Love you so much. Love your cock so much."

"Jesus Christ, baby."

His eyes rolled back as Eddie grounded into his prostate and bumped his weeping dick quickly, setting his nerves alight and sending him over the edge.

Steve convulsed as he got overwhelmed by the toes-curling pleasure, muscles flexing and milking the thick length inside him like his life depended on it.

"That's– Fuck–" Eddie groaned and pressed his forehead on Steve's shoulder, blunt nails digging into the trim waist and leaving their crescent indents behind.

Steve wished they would take forever to fade.

After a few stuttered thrusts, Eddie buried deep and spilled inside him, filling him up to the brim.

"Don't pull out," Steve whimpered, clamping down even as he knew full well it was impossible.

"Me and you both, sweetheart," Eddie pressed a wistful kiss on his temple, slipping out easily from his sloppy hole.

After using the toilet paper to wipe down his backside and dick, Eddie pulled his briefs and pants back on, deft hands snaking around his torso to do his belt and zipper for him.

When Eddie turned him around to button his shirt and tucked it in as well, Steve's softened dick gave a valiant twitch at the feeling of Eddie's cum dripping from his hole.

His underwear would be a mess by the time he was home, but if he played his cards right, Eddie would clean it for him.

"Hey, Ed–"

"Steve, I–"

They paused and shared a shy smile.

"You first," Steve said, cheeks tinged pink as Eddie's hands came to rest on his waist, boxing him in against the counter.

"I know none of this is your fault. So whatever you need to do to fulfill your duty, I forgive you," Eddie gave him a tender smile, stealing his breath away. "And I'll wait for you for however long it takes. Because I know it hurts you as much as I, if not worse, to listen to your parents. I don't agree with it, but I understand that you have your reason to do so."

Steve felt guilt run through him, his eyes burned and his lips quivered as he rested his forehead on Eddie's shoulder, wanting to hide his tears because what right did he have to cry now?

"Let me be your silent support, baby," Eddie's fingers combed through his hair gently. "Let me take care of you even from the shadows."

"No!" He lifted his head to meet those kind brown eyes. "You don't deserve that– I can't– I won't keep you a secret, Eddie."

"I love you, and there's no other way for us–"

"There is," Steve raised his hand to wipe the tears in his eyes, smiling wobbly at his boyfriend. "I'm here today to break the big news to my parents. If you're willing to take me in when they disown me and deny my inheritance right–"

Someone banged on the door loudly from the outside, but Steve didn't care about it. Wealth, fame, reputation; they all paled in comparison to the man he loved.

"–then I'll go with you."

Eddie gave him a searching look, as if what he just said was too good to be true. Which Steve couldn't fault him after everything he had put him through. But it hurt still, to be doubted by his love because he had proved himself untrustworthy with his foolishness.

"Are you sure, sweetheart?" Eddie asked softly, caressing Steve's cheekbone with the back of his hand. "I'm not your parents. I'm just a small-time musician. A life with me won't be the same as anything you grew up with. I don't want you to regret your decision, baby."

"And you called me a worrier," Steve teased gently, before grabbing Eddie's wrist to kiss his ring finger—tattooed with a princess crown. "A life with you sounds good enough to me."

"Yeah?" Eddie smiled at him, fond and precious.

"Yeah," Steve smiled back, feeling his body tingle with light. So bright that he could rival the sun.

At the sound of the door being unlocked, Steve winked at Eddie.

"Let's bring me out of the closet. Show my parents that I'm as straight as a rubber band."

"Stephen Joseph Harrington," Eddie grinned widely and gazed at him in awe. "I'm gonna marry you one day."

Steve tipped forward and kissed Eddie soundly when those loving arms caught him.

Yeah, one day soon.

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Simmer #2

CH.2 Ice Box | The Menu [4.1K] Eddie Munson x shy fem!reader: a line cook au.

The first week at Jim’s went somewhat smoothly. 

You figured out a bus that would take you out of town and to the diner when it was raining or too dark, a rusty old thing that rattled the entire journey but it meant you got there a few minutes before your shift started. The summer was still present, a growing thing that became hotter and bigger as June turned to July, the sidewalks baking, the skies an endless blue between storms that you didn’t really mind. 

You got to meet the rest of the team that first morning, bumping into a girl as you made your way through the side door meant for staff. Robin was another waitress, a little blunt, really pretty and more than helpful. She took over immediately, waving away your explanation of having to report to Eddie, leading you into a back office that was crammed with a desk and a line of lockers. It took a while for her to find a key to one in a security box but eventually you had a locker, a name badge and a uniform that Robin promised was the cleanest one she could find. 

It was a powder blue thing with red trim, a little on the short side for a dress and it had you pulling at the hem until it covered your thighs more. The collar was white, starchy, the apron that tied around your waist matching. Robin grinned when you reappeared with it on, straightening your name badge for you before handing you a new pad and pen. 

“C’mon,” she tilted her head towards the kitchen, the smell of coffee and maple already pouring out of it. “I’ll introduce you to everyone else.”

There was Nancy, another waitress who helped Jim manage the diner’s taxes when she wasn’t back at college in Indianapolis. She seemed sweet, a little quieter than Robin, more eager to keep her head down and garner the best tips. 

Argyle was the boy you’d seen in the kitchen the day before, a smiling boy with the sleekest hair you’d ever seen. He offered a fist bump and a warm greeting, telling you to let him know of any medicinal preferences that he could help you out with. He was on prep duty in the kitchen and Robin claimed he could chop a full onion in ten seconds when he wasn’t busy eating the product.

Then there was Jonathan. A quiet guy who mostly worked the coffee bar and helped on dish duty when the kitchen was busy. He made a mean latte, you were told, and if he liked you, he’d use his special coffee beans that he kept hidden in the back. 

Steve was front of house, mostly waiting tables, sometimes sitting at the rarely used host desk. Handsome and polite, he waved at you from atop a kitchen counter, already chewing on a slice of toast that he ended up sharing with Robin. 

Going by the staff schedule that was pinned to a board in the office, there seemed to be more employees you’d yet to meet. A Chrissy Cunningham, Jason Carver and someone called William although it was scored out and had Billy written next to it. There was Dustin too, pencilled in at the bottom as a weekend busboy. 

All in all, the staff at Jim’s diner were pretty cool. There was a man you hadn’t met yet, someone called Murray that was supposed to be the kitchen manager but apparently, he preferred a more work from home type of schedule. Then there was Eddie Munson. 

Line cook, although in a diner this size, he was pretty much the only cook. Territorial over his kitchen, you’d been warned that the boy tended to keep to himself, liked to communicate in grunts and grumbles, and was usually perpetually moody. He had a lot of opinions over music, over food, over the right spice to use in apple pies. And he didn’t tend to take to new people, much to your dismay. The morning you arrived ready to work, Eddie greeted you with a grunt from behind a coffee cup, dumping your uniform into your arms with a name badge that had “Chicago” written in permanent marker, a sure sign that Jim had forgotten your name. 

So the first week went without much talking to Eddie, you keeping to your space between the tables and him keeping to the kitchen. Music blasted through most of the shift, with the boy working with his head down, curls escaping his bun, his apron tied right around his waist. Every now and then, when you came to the hatch to collect plates and orders, you’d hear him hum along to the radio, an upbeat tune that never matched the frown on his face. And if he happened to catch you staring, well, the lines between his brows only deepened. 

And despite the sour faced regulars who only grunted and held their cups out when you offered more coffee, working at the diner wasn’t the worst job you’d had. Tips were okay, Jonathan made you a latte every morning you shared a shift and the sizzle of the stoves became a comforting background noise as you pottered around the tables, smiling shyly and taking orders with the utmost concentration.  

It was fine, good even. Up until your first run in with Mr Creel. 

The older man frequented the diner regularly, coming in early mornings and late nights, leaving whatever job he did to spend hours at a time at the end of the diner bar. He sat under the television screen, a dead eye stare on whatever it was showing, only holding his mug out for coffee refills. 

He was particular about being left alone and even more particular about his coffee being black. So when you accidentally topped the caffeine up with creamer, you finally heard the old man’s voice. He yelled something awful, his voice croaky from hardly being used, a raspy, horrible thing as he uttered ugly words. 

“Stupid girl,” he hissed, knocking over the cup of coffee until the insides ran along the bar and dripped onto your white sneakers. “Are you dumb? Huh?” The man glared at you as you tried to form words, mouth tripping over an apology you weren’t sure he deserved anymore. “How difficult can this job be?”

Steve came to your aid, brow furrowed and tongue bitten as he held back the things he wanted to say to the customer. But he saw the tears in your eyes, your gaze a little unfocused and glassy, his hand on your elbow as he coaxed you into leaving the situation. 

“I got this,” he muttered, a rag in hand, ready to mop up Mr. Creel’s mess as he pointedly ignored the old man’s whispered insults. “Take a breather, it’s fine. Don’t worry.”

You didn’t hesitate, scampering away with coffee sodden sneakers squeaking on the linoleum. You’d have to thank Steve later, the tears were close to falling and you were adamant they wouldn’t escape while you were still on the diner floor. So you barrelled into the kitchen without much thought, not bothering to yell ‘doors’ or ‘corner,’ just desperate to get out of sight. It was a slow morning, a few pancakes on the griddle, some leftover waffle batter in a bowl by the stove, another one full of eggs beside it. Apart from the sounds of food cooking, sizzles, pops, the sound of the radio, it was quiet. 

Pushing your back to the tiled wall, you weren’t able to do much to escape the heat that always filled the kitchen. The back of your uniform scratched at your neck, an itchy warmth that stuck to your skin and made the tears come a little easier as Mr. Creel’s words echoed in your head. You knew it wasn’t worth overthinking - everyone had warned you that the man was a perpetual thunder cloud, always gloomy, always looking for an excuse to yell. But still, you blinked one too many times and your glassy eyes spilled over, lashes sticking together with tears as you stuttered over a heaving breath. Your face scrunched, falling with too much emotion and you made a noise akin to a whimper, a wet sounding thing that you could keep in. 

You didn’t hear someone come back in from the fire exit, the brief smell of cigarette smoke mingling with the heat and the fiery barbecue scent of lunch hours brisket cooking. Eddie scowled at the sight of you by his station, back to the wall, hip pressed to the stainless steel table. Your head was bowed, the heels of your palms pressed to your eyes and when he turned down the radio - just slightly - he could hear you sniff. 

The boy frowned, somewhat uncomfortable, that crinkle that was always between his brows deepening. He used his wrist to sweep the hair out of his eyes and he gestured to the walk-in behind you, even though you couldn’t see. "Uh, normally we cry in the freezer."

You looked up, mortified. Your cheeks were red hot, a burn from the embarrassment of being caught and the frustration from the customer who was surely still at the bar, uncaring of the state he’d put you in. 

You sniffed, swiping hastily at your cheeks. "What?"

The boy sighed, an impatient noise that Robin had already told you not to take offence to. He nodded at the freezer again, lowering the heat on whatever it was he was cooking in a comically large pot. "In there. That's where we have our breakdowns."

You stood, aimless, wondering what you were supposed to do with that information. The freezer? Wouldn't Hopper be looking for you?

The boy scrunched his face in annoyance and you thought he was going to return to his recipe, but he turned off the burner and rounded the station. He tilted his chin at you, signalling you to follow. "C'mon, come wi' me," he murmured. 

It was the most he’d said to you since the day you’d turned up with your resumes and some hope in your chest. You blinked, watching Eddie stomp down the aisle between the stations, big combat boots a strange congrats to his chef whites. You ran a little to catch up, hip catching the corner of a cart filled with fresh fruit and a bowl of proofed dough, trying not to stumble into the back of the boy. You almost did when he stopped dead and pulled at the door of the giant walk-in, a wall of cold air hitting your both square in the face. 

Stacks of frozen food sat on metal shelves, lines of cut meats, boxes of iced over vegetables, already cut and prepped. Eddie waved a hand inside, gesturing for you to enter. Your breath turned visible as the temperature dropped by twenty degrees, ice cold and raising goosebumps on your arms. You half expected Eddie to shut the door and leave you alone, but you were surprised when he walked in after you, the soft thump of the door closing after him. 

Silence enveloped you both, the noise of the kitchen, the broken AC, the diner all disappearing. You breathed out a sigh of relief, breath crystallising between you and the boy who was eyeing you warily, wondering if you were going to keep crying. He didn’t say anything, he just leaned against a shelf and tugged a rag from his back pocket, wiping off his hands. 

It was easier to breathe without the heat of the diner, the constant steam from the kitchen, the way the sun hit the windows and made the whole place too hot. The boy watched you, still cautious, waiting for your chest to stop heaving and you to stop sniffling. When you did, he peered at you through his bangs. 

“Better?”

Still embarrassed, you swiped hastily at your cheeks and tried to pretend you weren’t crying, wiping the evidence of the apron that held your pad and pen- and now splashes from Mr. Creel’s coffee tantrum. “Yeah, m’fine. Thanks.”

The boy nodded, lips pressed together as if he didn’t know what else to say. Neither did you, still hot cheeked and mortified, staring wide eyed at the freezer door and for a brief second, you wondered if the rest of the diner would hear you from behind the thick freezer door if you just so happened to let out a yell. Maybe that’s why Eddie said this was the breakdown space. You guessed you’d find out sooner than you thought. 

And just as you were getting ready to push the door back open, Eddie peered up at you from where he was busy inspecting a silver scar on his wrist. “Creel’s a real asshole, don’t let him get to you.”

Surprised, you stopped in your tracks and turned. The leftover tears on your cheeks weren’t quite ice, but they left cold trails across your face that felt too obvious. You pushed against the apple of your cheek once more, fingers digging in a little too meanly as you tried to get rid of the evidence that Eddie already saw. “I know,” you nodded. You sniffed again. “Just— took me by surprise, that’s all.”

Eddie nodded slowly, like he was thinking over your words. “You gotta toughen up, kid.” He swept by you, lemongrass and some cologne that was hidden behind the smell of basil and spice. His shoulder knocked yours. “Told you you wouldn’t last in the kitchen.”

—————

Some would call it stubbornness, others would call it spiteful, but you were more determined than ever to fit in and work hard at the diner. Eddie’s comment made a lasting effect on you and you tried every day to smile through the shit and be a little bolder, leaving the shyness behind with Chicago and every other failed opportunity. Plus, the tips came a little easier if you flashed a smile and some flirt. 

You cleaned up the smashed burgers and soggy fries that were smeared into the floor after a family of tourists swept through the restaurant, you wiped down tables, refilled the salt shakers and when you collected orders from Eddie at the kitchen hatch, you made sure to use the towel to pick up the hot plates. The last time you’d suffered a burn, Eddie had rolled his eyes and scoffed. But when you came back for the next order a few minutes later, an ice pack was sitting waiting. 

“You okay?” Robin’s side nudged up against yours in greeting at the cutlery station, familiar and friendly. 

You smiled, nodding, wrapping napkins around knives and forks. Robin picked up a bundle to help and you could tell by her unsettled fidgeting, she wanted to ask something. “Are you okay?” 

The girl made a face and squinted at you, all nervous charm and nervousness. “Yeah, yeah— I’m good. So good. It’s just, uh—”

You blinked, waiting, both of you moving out of the way when Jonathan appeared with a set of headphones over his ears, grinning at you both as he dumped more clean cutlery into the drawers. 

“—you know how it was both of us on the late tonight?” Robin continued once Jonathan disappeared. You nodded, still sorting out the utensils, frowning when the freshly cleaned sets burned your fingertips. “Well, I kinda got asked on a date tonight and oh my god, okay, like, I know you’re new but I’ve been waiting on this girl literally forever and—”

It was easy to smile at Robin’s enthusiastic rambling, your shoulders losing the tension they usually held as you listened to her talk. “Who is it?” You asked curiously. 

“It’s like, holy shit? She’s interested in me? I mean— oh.” Robin cut herself off after she realised you’d spoken. Her cheeks burned, pink covering her freckles and she covered her face with her hands, embarrassed at her own excitement. “Nancy.”

You beamed and nodded, already knowing about the flirting that went on during their shared shifts, the way Robin looked at the other girl, the way Steve rolled his eyes fondly behind his friend's back.  

“That’s sweet,” you told the girl, happy for her. “You guys goin’ somewhere nice?”

“Uh, yeah,” Robin smiled, bashful, before she flicked her gaze to you again, nerves kicking back in. “That’s actually what I wanted to ask. Would you mind if I left early?” The girl gestured to the quiet diner, a little more peaceful now the dinner rush was over. “I know I was supposed to stay until close with you, but this show starts at like, nine? So I was just wondering if it’d be okay with you if I—”

You cut the girl off with a hand to her forearm, stopping her nervous gesturing. You smiled again. “Hey, it’s totally okay. I can handle it.”

She grinned, face lighting up with genuine happiness as she squealed and grabbed your arms, pulling you into a crushing hug despite the bundles of cutlery you held to your chest. But her excitement was contagious and you grinned too, happy to have made Robin happy, happier to feel like you had a real friend. 

“I owe you!” She gasped, “thank you so much! You’re on with Eddie ‘til close, and maybe Jonathan? It’ll be fine! Thankyouthankyouthankyou!” She gushed as she pulled off her apron and rushed to the office. 

The rest of the time  went quietly, as did most of the graveyard shifts. Families and couples left after eight and as the evening headed towards night, the clock approaching twelve, the diner was empty apart from one lone trucker in the corner nursing an extra black coffee and a cinnamon roll. So you headed into the kitchen with the last of the plates, proud of the way you balanced all five of them over your forearms, only wobbling a little. You even remembered to call out as you pushed the door open, even though there wasn’t much happening. 

The hustle and bustle had slowed to a lazy stroll, the radio still on but much quieter, another sixties song crooning from the speakers. Eddie was washing down his station, knives sharpened and put away, the stovetop grills seeping in the sink full of bubbles. 

“Floors have just been mopped,” he told you without looking up. “Careful.”

You nodded, always startled when he spoke, his voice much softer than he looked. It was honeyed whisky, syrupy smooth. You managed to slide the dishes into an empty sink without much fanfare - nothing spilled, nothing smashed - and you were planning on refilling the ketchup dispenser when your stomach growled, unreasonably loud. 

You clamped a hand over it, an awful flush crawling up the back of your neck that you knew too well. Embarrassed, you tried to laugh it off, avoiding Eddie’s gaze when his head shot up. Wide eyed, he appraised you, watching as you gave him a wide berth as you shot for the door. Before you could make a break for it, the cook dropped his cleaning rag and sighed. 

“Have you ate?”

You stopped, almost tipping over your own feet as you spun back round to face him. You wondered if you misheard him, if he was maybe talking to someone else in the kitchen you hadn’t noticed but Jonathan was whistling outside of the kitchen hatch, cleaning down the coffee machine and no one else was on shift. 

Still, you asked, “what?”

Eddie frowned, like he was upset about repeating himself. But he was already pulling a chopping board out from the racks underneath the workbench. “I said, have you ate? You sound like a dying whale.”

If you weren’t so mortified, you think you would’ve been offended. You hadn’t eaten though, not since you’d managed to shovel a bag of chips into your mouth between a bus load of tourists stopping off for a milkshake and Jim’s famous wings. But you weren’t sure why Eddie wanted to know so you shrugged, hoping your embarrassment wasn’t showing on your face.  

The boy just sighed, like he always did, and gestured to a stool that sat across from his station. “Sit,” he ordered gruffly before pulling out half of a baked loaf from earlier. “You like mustard?”

“What’re you doing?” You hadn’t moved, standing shell shocked by the door, your stomach still yelling at you. 

Eddie turned to you with that same frown, forever looking annoyed at your presence. Now he was brandishing a butter knife, more curls than ever escaping his bun. He really should wear a hairnet. 

“What’s it look like?” He grunted. He pointed at the stool once more. “C’mon. Mustard?”

You walked over slowly, like you were approaching something wild and unpredictable. Maybe you were. The stool squeaked as it scraped across the tiles, and you eyed the boy warily as you pushed yourself onto the chair across from him. “Sure,” you mumbled, watching as he slathered slices of sourdough with mustard and a little mayonnaise. 

“You should eat properly.” Eddie scowled. “You don’t eat nothin’, gonna make yourself pass out in this heat.”

You seemed to forget your shyness as you frowned right back. “How would you know?” You demanded. 

Eddie scoffed and suddenly you forgot altogether that you and this boy didn’t really talk. He was rolling his eyes at you as he layered on some cheddar cheese and salami, not asking you before he added some prosciutto and lettuce. “Because you scramble in and out of here all day chasin’ your own tail. I watched you inhale that bag of chips earlier like a goddamn raccoon.”

You squirmed not loving the comparison but knowing that he probably wasn’t far off in terms of likeness. But still, your frown matched his. “I don’t scramble,” you murmured. 

Eddie scoffed, a breathy, disbelieving thing that made him raise his eyebrows. He was moving around his station with a grace you couldn’t fathom, speedy and gentle with each movement. He drizzled a little honey over the second slice of bread before stacking it on top, an impressive display of flavour in each layer before he sliced it down the middle. 

“Oh, yes you do,” Eddie shot back. “Like a squirrel.” He placed the sandwich on a plate Jonathan had already cleaned and pushed it towards you before deciding to add another little pot of honey beside it. 

“I thought I was a raccoon?” You asked him before you could help yourself. “Thank you,” you added quickly, looking down at the plate. Your stomach grumbled again, your mouth watered. 

Eddie shrugged, wiping his hands on the front of his apron. “Either rodent will do,” he told you. “And you’re welcome. Now eat.”

You didn’t argue anymore, tucking into your snack with a shy sort of wariness. You’d hardly spoken to the boy before now and yet here he was, preparing you food. Just a sandwich, but it took more effort than any snack you’d ever made yourself. You took a bite, eyes closing at the flavour and you hummed in appreciation. When you opened them again, Eddie was at the sink, his back to you but you could see from the tilt of his head that showed off how he watched you from the side of his eyes. 

“Oh my god—” you cut yourself off, humming again, a delighted little noise that you couldn’t help let out. “This is amazing.”

You ate until Eddie was done cleaning, using your crusts to dip into the honey, mopping up everything off your plate until it was empty, your legs swinging happily from the stool. If you were alone, you would’ve danced.  You were sure you saw him fight a smile as he returned to the bench, brows raised at your full cheeks, your happy eyes, the crumbs on his once clean station. 

“Squirrel to chipmunk,” he noted, gaze trailing over your face. You swallowed quickly, cheeks heating up once again and you dropped your eye line to the table as you wiped your hands on your apron. “Good?” He asked. 

“Delicious,” you told him with a nod. “Thank you. Again. You didn’t have to do that.”

Eddie swung a dish towel over his shoulder and ducked his head, curls falling loose around his face and you watched as he slid his clean equipment back into their rightful place. “Was just a sandwich, no big deal.”

It was just a sandwich. But you’d soon come to realise it was something so much bigger than you’d ever have thought. 

[lovebugism]

“we don’t like each other, but we’re at a mutual friend’s Christmas party and we keep getting caught under the mistletoe together”

eddie and r at steve’s christmas party!

ty for requestling lovie! pls enjoy xoxo — you and eddie, arch enemies since you met, share a kiss under the mistletoe thanks to your meddling friends (enemies to lovers, fluff, 2.2k)

blurbcember ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

Steve’s hand is warm on the small of your back as he leads you the long way to the kitchen. His too big house is glowing with life — with warm-colored Christmas lights and the laughter of your closest friends. It all makes your skin sparkle. Or maybe that’s just the alcohol.

You’re draining your cup of its contents, head tipped back to catch every drop of Steve’s dad’s expensive liquor. You let the boy lead you blindly for a refill until you notice that you’re further from the kitchen now than you were sitting with him on the couch.

“Where are we going?” you wonder with a hearty chuckle.

“To get you another drink!” he insists, playing innocent.

“Then why are we circling your living room?” 

He guides you around the French doors of the entrance and past the wooden staircase — where Max and Lucas dangle mistletoe from a string on the upper story. They bicker back and forth about exactly where to place it and forget to be discreet about any of it.

You’re about to walk past it and towards the kitchen, but Steve stops short before you can. Eddie exits the hallway just in front of you, seemingly led by none other than Dustin Henderson in an obviously concocted plan. 

This marks the second Christmas of your friends trying to get you and the freak to kiss.

It’ll also be the second Christmas that they fail.

“I can see you, you know?” you shout to the arguing teenagers.

The banter quietens all at once. 

Lucas shoots an awkward smile down at you, dressed in an itchy sweater and collared shirt that his mom obviously dressed him in. Max is much less apologetic. Her auburn braids sway on either side of her face as she leans over the railing, clutching at the lit-up garland with a bandaged hand.

“Can you just kiss and get it over with?” she pleads with all her practiced teenage desperation. “Lucas almost chopped my hand off cutting the fishing wire, and I need to know it was worth something.”

“Yeah, in your dreams, Mayfield,” Eddie scoffs, walking past you without a single glance your way. You wouldn’t know, though, because you weren’t looking at him either. You bypass the mistletoe and head the opposite way toward the kitchen. “Not a chance,” you murmur under your breath.

“I said I was sorry!” you hear Lucas exclaim as you go.

Max squints her stony blue eyes at him. “Yeah, ‘cause sorry’s gonna fix my hand, right?”

You pour your own drink while Steve lectures the kids about being distracted. He’s back a couple minutes later, wearing a dumb Christmas sweater and an even dumber grin. “Watcha doing?” he lilts slowly as he walks to stand at your side.

You lick beer from the side of your thumb after spilling a drop or more. “Separating myself from the plotting,” you answer, vague and somewhat ominous.

He furrows his brows and scoffs out a laugh. “What are you talking about?”

“Everyone’s trying to get me and Munson to kiss. It’s disgusting.”

“It’s just a joke,” he assures with a shrug, even though you both know it’s more than that. 

He could’ve used that excuse the year before — when he and Dustin were practically tripping over themselves to get you and Eddie in the same room and under the same mistletoe. Now it’s a competition. Now it’s real. 

They’re trying to prove to themselves that they can get you and Eddie to kiss more than they’re trying to prove that they’d been right about the two of you all along.

“Is that why you hid a mistletoe by the records?” you squint and raise your cup for another sip. 

You and Eddie have a history of fighting over what music gets played at parties. You’re notorious for it, actually. Even tonight, you argued about whether to play Christmas music or the regular stuff. That was before you noticed the ribboned plant hiding in the cabinet of records, of course. Then you walked away entirely.

That’s why you’re listening to Dio now instead of Nat King Cole.

“Robin did that, actually,” Steve tells you as he crosses his arms over his chest. “And it would’ve been genius if she actually hid the damn thing. It’s like I’m the only one taking this seriously!”

“Both of you are idiots. And creeps.”

“Do you wanna go smoke, or do you wanna keep calling me names?”

“Hm…” you hum and pretend to ponder his question. You purse your lips to the side and flit your eyes to the ceiling. “How about we go smoke and I keep calling you names.

He thinks for a second. Then nods. “Deal.”

Steve’s deck is as ornately decorated as the rest of his house. It glows yellow from the wreaths on the windows and the garland on the railing. The golden color is the only warm thing about being outside. The bitter breeze bites through the material of your sweater, pricking at your skin no matter how tightly you fold your arms around yourself.

You and Steve huddle together like penguins for warmth. He pulls out a little tin box from the back pocket of his jeans — there’s one joint left inside it. He passes it off to you, then pats at his sides with a frown between his brows. 

“Shit…” he huffs.

“What?” you ask, teeth chattering.

“I forget the damn lighter.”

You scoff. “Genius.”

He rushes back inside. The glass door slides open, basking you in a momentary warmth, before sliding shut again. 

You’re not alone for very long, though. He’s back far quicker than you expect. You hear the schlick of the opened door and feel the woosh of golden heat. When you look over your shoulder with a half-hearted complaint on the tip of your tongue, you realize that Steve isn’t back.

It’s Eddie fucking Munson.

“Oh, you gotta be shitting me,” you mumble under your breath.

His brows pinch together, dark eyes twinkling with confusion when he looks at you. “What the hell are you doing out here?”

“Wait— Don’t shut the door!”

“What are you talking about?” he laughs and shuts it anyway.

“No, don’t—” 

It’s too late. You rush to the glass and hear a faint click on the other side. You wrap your fingers around the cool handle and pull. It doesn’t budge. 

“Those assholes locked us out here,” you grouse — partly for Eddie, but mostly for the assholes in question locked inside.

Steve peeks through the blinds. You can only see his eyes, honeyed and sparkling with mischief. “Who’s the idiot now?” he teases. The big dumb grin is audible in his voice. You blink, and he’s gone again.

“He lured us… With weed…” Eddie murmurs. You can’t tell if he’s talking to you or himself. He nods with a small shrug. “That’s kinda genius, actually.”

“Except we can’t smoke it. ‘Cause we don’t have a lighter.”

Eddie’s face screws up in offense, chin jerking back like he’s flinching. He pulls a pale hand from the pocket of his leather jacket. The metal Zippo glimmers beneath the Christmas lights. “It’s like you don’t know me at all, sweetheart,” the wild-haired boy teases.

“I don’t,” you concur and snatch the lighter from his ringed fingers. “And I’d love to keep it that way.”

“You’re a real ray of sunshine, you know that?” he jokes, squinting at you with eyes made of chocolate and smiling with lips rosier than flower petals.

“Thanks for noticing,” you mumble through the joint. You hold your hand over the flame while you light it, taking a deep puff before passing it off to the boy beside you.

“At least we have a break from those psychos, right?” he jokes as he takes it from you.

Your laugh comes out in a white cloud. “Yeah. I’m pretty sure we’re, like, the only normal people here.”

“Yeah…”

“Don’t let that go to your head, though. You’re still a freak.”

“And you’re still a bitch,” he lilts with a grin, then passes the joint back to you — a makeshift peace offering.

“Don’t be mean to me—” you squint and snatch the blunt from his hand. The tone you use is a foreign one, coated with a hurt he can’t tell is real or in his head. His eyes go wide, anyway. An apology bubbles in his throat, but you beat him to the punch. “—It turns me on.”

“Oh,” he murmurs under his breath, heart thudding hard against his ribcage. “…Oh.”

Your lips curl into a smirk around the edge of the joint. The ash burns orange when you take a deep inhale and turns dark again when you pass it back.

His ringed fingers brush yours, and Eddie gets shy in a way he never really has before. Not with you, anyway. Your touch has him buzzing, gets him all awkward like a giddy teenage boy who’s never been around a girl before. 

He forces a laugh through a sparkling chest. “Now I don’t know if I should stop or keep going.”

A giggle sputters from your lips before you can stop it. You hadn’t meant for it to come out, of course — you were actually trying really hard to swallow it down. But it’s spilling from your smiling mouth like rays of golden sunshine in a navy blue winter, anyway.

Eddie couldn’t hide his amusement if he tried. The blunt burns, unhit, between his fingers, because he’s too busy looking at you.

“I don’t think I’ve ever made you laugh before,” he says, chuckling to himself while pride swells behind his ribcage. “Hell, I don’t think I’ve even made you smile before.”

“Don’t get used to it— I’m just tipsy.”

You reach over to snatch the burning stick from his hand, and he suddenly understands what you meant before — the whole don’t be mean to be, it turns me on thing that he’ll probably be thinking about for the next week or so. 

‘Cause you’re always rough with him. Rough and a little bit bitter. It bordered on hate, unrooted and visceral. Erotic. Maybe he liked teasing you so much because he liked it when you told him off. Maybe that’s why he can’t seem to leave you alone even now.

“I like you like this, though,” Eddie confesses, voice as soft as his melted-chocolate gaze. His eyes get all squishy around the edges when he looks at you now. It makes you cower because you’re not used to that — to liking it. 

He shrugs and sticks his fidgeting hands into his jacket pockets, trying hopelessly to play it cool. “Maybe we should, like, go get drinks together or something? So, you know, you can be nice to me and— halfway tolerate me or whatever.”

You get quiet, and he isn’t totally sure what to make of it. 

His flitting eyes (going halfway blind from staring at Steve’s Christmas lights instead of you) find your gaze again. You’re wearing a smirk he’s never seen on you before, barely there but still obvious. No one’s ever looked at him the way you are now — like the world could fall apart, but you’d never know it because he’s somehow more distracting.

You catch his button-eyed gaze and hold it until it hurts.

“In your dreams, Munson,” you singsong sweetly to him, lips like wine. It’s his words from earlier (ones he’s starting to regret right about now), but you say them with a wider and more sincere smile.

It feels almost like a promise.

A whistle sounds in the distance, coming from above you.

You and Eddie share confused glances before taking a single step forward. Max and Lucas are leaning over the balcony a story above you — with that damn mistletoe hanging from fishing wire. That means Dustin and Steve aren’t too far, either. Which means Robin’s probably up there, too. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Eddie squints up at them, chin tilted to reveal the pale expanse of his neck. You don’t know why you can’t stop looking at him. Maybe it’s the weed and the one beer you had, but you never thought a neck could be pretty until now.

“We’ve been here for a while, actually,” Max sasses in return.

Lucas concurs with a shoulder pressed intently against hers. “Yeah. My arm’s starting to get a little tired over here.”

You and Eddie huff and roll your eyes at the same time, so strangely synchronized. You’d both be similarly annoyed if your minds weren’t racing. ‘Cause it’s a tradition now — for all your friends to get you to kiss with storebought mistletoe — and it’s always tradition for them to fail.

It’s a record you and Eddie would like to break now, almost painfully so, but neither of you will humor the other by saying that out loud.

The boy beside you merely shrugs. His cheeks flush pink with an embarrassment he’d sooner blame on the cold. You can see it in his eyes, though — in the twinkle in the deep chocolate of them. His gaze is weirdly expressive in that way. He couldn’t hide anything from you if he tried.

“Should we…?” he trails off. 

He won’t let you know that he wants to — kiss you, that is — but he’s not gonna do anything you don’t want to do, either. He’s not a total asshole, just a stupid boy falling head over heels for a girl he thought he hated five minutes ago.

“Let’s just get it over with,” you huff in annoyance.

You say it begrudgingly — like tasting him with your suddenly longing lips is some kinda chore.

You kiss the breath from his lungs a second later.

[eddiernunson]

Be Quiet | Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader | 18+

Blurb from my long form Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader story Trapped (Go check it out if you're in the mood for a long read)

[I'm not letting the notes I've gotten in the last 24 hours get to me, I swear]

Context? Meeting Uncle Wayne for the first time then fucking off to Eddie's room.

Word Count: 3.7k

Warning: squirting, light ball worship, oral (both), riding, slut shaming, dirty talk, *parent in the next room so shut up*, teasing/begging

“I know you’re nervous but it’s gotta happen some time.”

“Like you are meeting my mom and dad?”

Eddie’s eyes bulge, forgetting you had a normal set of parents he still had to meet. “Damn. Right. Anyway. It’ll be fine.”

The door swings open without needing a key. The two of you walk in, seeing Wayne Munson perched on the couch with his legs bent and feet on the coffee table holding a beer and watching a rerun of Cheers. A cigarette in his mouth, inhaling, laughing, and coughing as Ted Danson says something rather funny.

He jumps as the door closes, apparently not hearing Eddie’s loud engine. “Oh, hey kid.” Wayne grunts, putting his feet off the table and getting up to greet his nephew. “I see you brought a friend?”

“Of sorts.” Eddie shrugs, his hand flexing in yours.

“Hello,” you greet him, your nervousness obvious in your voice as you greet him. You face him for the first time, taking in the man who you assumed is the one who raised Eddie. Wayne Munson looks like what someone would define as a blue collared man. The plaid he’s wearing, the scruff on his jeans, and the smell and tint of dirt on his skin. He has thin hair on his head, completely thinned out in the middle.

Bald. He’s bald.

He has a scruff beard, and he doesn’t look like the most approachable person in the world. However, the way this man smiled at Eddie told you everything you needed to know about him. You hold your hand to him, testing the waters. Eddie muffles a laugh, smiling over you at Wayne.

Wayne laughs silently at the extended hand, grabs it and yanks you into a hug. It startles you, but the smell of the same cologne you smell on Eddie mixed with his gruff laughter as you yelp is oddly comforting. “Oh sunshine, I found my nephew singing a pop song in the shower last Sunday morning. I think we’re way passed a handshake.”

Wayne gives you one last squeeze and lets you go. You turn back to face your boyfriend, anticipating his reaction to this.

Eddie was looking at Wayne, the face of one who was severely betrayed. “You really gotta bring up singing in the shower?”

Wayne put his hands up in surrender, laughing as he goes back to return to the couch where his beer was sat and his cigarette out from lack of use. “Hey, man. You haven’t sung like that for a couple of years. I just had to let this kid know how much she means to you. In case you haven’t gotten the message across.”

You smile already fond of his uncle. “Wait until you meet my mom” you say, attempting to make him feel better. “She has stories on stories against singing in the shower. Though I gotta know the artist.”

“Not saying shit.” Eddie states, bouncing onto his toes and back onto his heels, representing his stubbornness.

Wayne jogs lightly to you, and whispers “Madonna” right near your face and giggles as Eddie loudly protests this second act of betrayal.

“I don’t know how I didn’t see my girlfriend and my uncle teaming up against me coming. This was bound to happen with you two.” He says, sounding disappointed but there was a hint of a smile his face.

“You picked a good one, that’s why,” Wayne says, sat back on his couch and grabbing his lighter and cigarette. “Nice to meet you, sunshine.”

“Nice to meet you too, Mr. Munson,” you reply, the feeling of Eddie’s hand grabbing yours.

“Please, Mr. Munson is my shit brother. Call me Wayne. Please.”

“Okay. Will do.” You smile, your breath taken away as Eddie tugs you straight to his room.

“Edward!” Wayne calls as you almost reach his room.

Eddie sighs and turns around to ask what he wanted.

“Either be quiet or turn some music on. I don’t want to hear anything. Capiche?” He asks, a mildly smug but mostly a tired man who did not need to hear that on his one night off this week.

“Got it.” And the door closes behind you two.

-

You land on the bed with an oof as you lie onto your back, Eddie running around his room like a headless chicken. Eddie puts on some Journey, a tape he once received as a gift and only plays as background music for more tamer things. He turns up the volume enough, but not enough to drown your voices out.

Sitting up, you give him a look with an eyebrow raised, and your core heating up from the mere indication of putting on slightly loud yet tame music. You watch Eddie as he yanks off his jacket and vest, pulling off his shirt as well. He slips his hair back half up, and finally turns to face you with a knowing smirk.

“What are you up to?” You ask as he crawls on to the bed.

“Shh. Time for kissing.” He whispers and leans in with his delicious lips.

No matter how many times you have seen the sight of Eddie leaning in to kiss you, it never gets old. You’re absolutely positive it won’t ever get old.

Eddie’s lips are on yours, leading with a confidence that grows each time. If you’re not careful he will become hella cocky in his abilities. You meet his kiss with enthusiasm, opting to open your mouth ask for permission for your tongue to enter his. He grants you permission, a dark chuckle in the back of his throat as he sharply inhales. He places a hand into your hair, his thumb caressing the skin right underneath it.

You don’t know how, but you were getting wetter from kissing him alone. You could feel an urge to start to grind, your thighs clenching tightly. Lying down on your back, Eddie follows you down, slipping one hand underneath your shirt, the contact of his hand on your waist making you whimper.

“Feeling needy, princess?” He asks, his voice light. “You want me to do something?” Eddie starts kissing your neck, his tongue teasing by barely gracing your skin.

One arm is around your torso, his body lined up against yours and propped onto his elbow. You nod your head yes as he continues his assault on your neck, starting to use his teeth.

“What do you want me to do, use your words.” He whispers against your neck, his voice nice and smooth. He feels you clench your thighs, most of your lower body tightening right up. “Oh you are very needy, my love. But you’re going to have to tell me if you want me to do something, otherwise I’ll continue to do PG rated things on your neck.”

You whimper, thinking he wouldn’t be as cruel as to only stick to over your clothes type touching for the sake of teasing you. “Please, please touch me, Eddie. I need it. I need it so bad.”

“I am touching you” he mutters pressing his hand under your shirt on your torso a little harder on your skin.

A sound comes out of you that sounds like a sob, a pathetic little noise from being riled up so much already. You know if he were to take off your pants your panties would have a nice little wet patch on them. “My pussy, Eddie please. Touch it, I’m so fucking wet.” You beg him, whimpering.

Eddie admires the way he was able to make you fall apart simply by kissing you. He has been thinking of attempting something like this with you for about as long as he could handle. Your face was already scrunched up from the teasing, whimpering from the way he was teasing you and almost denying you what you so desperately craved.

“There you go sweetheart.” Eddie sits up, you with him. He crawls down to your waist, starting on the waistband of your pants. He tugs on it, forcing you to lift your hips. He throws them across the room and gets a good look at your pretty yellow panties with the bow on it you decided to wear, nearly groaning at the sight of the darkened patch at the centre. “Look at you,” he nearly chokes on air, catching his breath at the way your hips are so easily separated and you panting, staring up at him. “Is this all for me? Just from my lips kissing yours?”

“I’ve been wanting you all day,” you mumble, embarrassed. “Been thinking about your cock in class.”

“Oh, you dirty girl,” he mutters, entirely too turned on at the idea of you sitting in class and writing notes while thinking of him bending you over a desk in a nearby empty classroom. He rewards your confession with a kiss on your thigh, causing it to shake on almost immediate contact, the lick sending pleasure shocks up your body. He looks at you, surprised at the reaction, but it only encourages him to continue.

He laps further up your thigh causing your pussy to start to clench at the very idea of being in contact with his fucking beautiful tongue. Finally, he gets to the centre, the heated core where your pussy is begging for any sort of contact. “Baby, please” You beg him. “Lick my pussy. Eat me out. Fuck please.”

Usually, Eddie is the more verbal one, but you’re starting to catch on to the fact that every time you beg or confess something he rewards you. So here, instead of teasing you over your undies like he was planning, he rips them off in a singular motion. As soon as your panties are off, he attacks your clit with his tongue, your pussy already completely covered in your slick.

“Look how wet and pretty this little pussy is,” he mutters against your clit, the vibrations sending waves up your stomach. If he continues like this, you won’t last much longer. He slips in a finger, pumping it and sucking on your clit at the same time. “How does this feel, baby?”

You were so far gone you were surprised it even registered to answer, your stomach starting to tighten in the all too familiar way. “Feels- feels so good, Ed. Keep doing that.”

Eddie sucks on your clit even harder and adds a finger. You feel fuller and a red-hot heat starts on your clit, spreading in your legs and your stomach. It felt intense, and new. There was a very small part of you that remembered Wayne was in the living room. Instead of the loud moans you wanted to let out, it ended up being choked out moans, staying in the back of your throat.

You struggling to keep quiet was like music to Eddie’s ears. The way your legs were entirely tensed up was telling him you were close. He was surprised how little he did today to get you so close to the edge, wondering how long you must’ve been revved up for. He sucks as hard as he can on your clit, adding a third finger to you.

Suddenly, you’re hit with a wave of heat, something inside you tells you to push and relax a muscle you didn’t know you had. You feel heat all over your body, focused on your pussy and thighs and you hear a gushing sound. It takes you a second to come back to earth, your heart racing and giggles forming in the back of your throat. You sit up slowly to ask him who the fuck taught him to do that cause it wasn’t you when a large wet patch underneath your ass startles you.

It didn’t even occur to you that you have squirted, you were so blissed out. Confused you look at the darkened patch on the bed and then up to Eddie’s face. It’s covered in your slick, and he looks as stunned as you were. “Holy shit I made you squirt.” He mutters, taking one thumb and running it along his face to suck on your slick.

“I-I didn’t know I could even do that.” You whisper, starting at the large wet stain on his bed.

“That was so fucking sexy, baby.” He whispers back, leaning in to kiss you.

You lean back after receiving one kiss, the taste of your pussy/cum turning you on more than you thought it would. “You don’t want to wipe your face off?”

“Are you fucking kidding me, sweetheart?” He asks, dead serious. “I’m wearing this like a fucking trophy. I, a man who has fucked a total of three times, have made my girlfriend squirt. If I can do it any guy can.”

“Not just any guy is willing to go down on a girl like that, though.” You mutter, searching his face.

Eddie rolls his eyes, pouncing on you so you lie back onto the bed. “A guy who refuses to go down on a girl is a fucking whimp. It’s one of the best acts of worship you could possibly do.”

This sentence turns you on so much that you moan softly, leaning in for another you-tasting kiss. You reach down for his pants unbuckling his jeans and belt, needing to feel the weight of his cock on your tongue as lust overtakes and overconsumes your body. “Wanna taste you, now.” You mutter, leaning away to focus on getting his pants off.

After fidgeting for too long, you maneuver him onto his back getting a better angle to blow him.

“Oh, fuck please.” Eddie mutters, a fraction of his confidence gone in the idea of your mouth around his cock.

You yank his briefs and his jeans off all at once, having teased him a bit last time. You just wanted to show him how much making you feel so damn good made you feel. You crawl up to his cock and start fisting him without any warning. Eddie lurches in your hold, his chest lifting with is legs. He really needed the release as well, it seems.

Your hand stops moving, and you lean down, gently kissing along the shaft in different spots. You go up and down several times, not wanting him to know when you were taking him in his mouth. After your third round of up and down Eddie’s hips buck up, silently asking you fucking suck on his cock already. You giggle softly and decide to take pity on him. You open your mouth and finally take him in, his cock going to the centre of your mouth.

Eddie moans softly and you feel his thighs tense. You start sucking and bobbing, getting a rhythm started. “Oh Jesus you do so fucking well with your pretty little mouth, baby.” He rambles, his mouth talking out of habit.

You hum, causing a vibration sent down. Taking your mouth off, you decide something spontaneous, and take one of his balls onto your mouth, sucking on it loudly.

Eddie jerks up in response to this, eyes wide open and staring at the ceiling. You feel proud of yourself for getting this reaction and you move to the next one. You bring his heavy cock back into your mouth and take him in as much as you can. You start the rhythm again, and you can feel him getting more desperate as you continue.

Eddie taps your head, asking you silently to come up to him. You wanted to continue sucking him off, but you obliged anyhow. It was proving that listening to him paid off.

“Come here.” He says when you crawl up to him. “You do so well, baby. Be a good girl and put your cock in, yeah? I wanna fuck you so bad now.”

You take off your baggy shirt, revealing you wore no bra. Your nipples were nice and hard, Eddie grabbing one of your tits as soon as he saw them. You whimper at the sensation, feeling nice and tingly. Finally, you were both naked. You move your leg over his lap, straddling him. You haven’t ridden him yet and you were fucking excited to. As you sit down, Eddie grabs his cock, lining it up with your entrance but just off. He takes his hand off his cock and you whine at the loss of the possibility of you finally being full of him. “No, no. Remember, I told you to put it in. You can do it, my little slut. Go ahead.”

You reach down between your legs to line up his cock with your entrance. Eddie looks down as the head starts to go in, moaning at the sight of your hand doing such a thing. You moan as his cock enters, both at the slight pain and the immense pleasure already pooled in your tummy again.

As the pain settles after a shorter period than last time, you go as far as you can go, not warning Eddie and making him moan loudly. “Shh.” You say, placing your hand over his mouth. “Remember.”

Eddie nods, his eyes wide, but you feel his cock twitch. You almost remove your hand when he desperately grabs it and places it back over his mouth, nodding. You smile, this being far too hot to handle. You add light pressure with your hand, and finally, you’re able to finish sinking onto his cock. “Holy fucking- holy shit.” You whisper as he moans loudly into your hand.

Slowly, you start grinding on his cock, unable to remember when the last time you rode anyone was but knowing you still had some skill regardless. He was longer than you figured, sliding up and farther than you thought you could. As you slam down onto it again Eddie rolls his eyes and is muffled as he moans in your mouth again, a strain of profanities you wish you could hear.

Soon, you find your thighs aren’t doing the job you needed them to, and you stand onto your feet in a froggy style and start bouncing on his cock. This causes a moan so loud your hand barely hid it, Eddie pussy drunk as you stare half lidded into his eyes. His cock is hitting the right spot and you can feel your self getting close as he starts assisting you, moving his hips.

Before you knew what was happening, he got impatient and grabbed your waist and turned you onto your back. You were so surprised your hand flew off his mouth. He put his hand on yours, wanting to be in control. “Now you can moan as long as you want, you little slut,” he whispers, his hand hard on your mouth but literally the hottest thing in the world. He changes from missionary and hikes your legs up so you two were in an L.

You were accidentally edged earlier, but you felt it coming just as fast again, and the way your knees bent on his chest was the dead giveaway. “Are you close, princess? Come on, cum. I wanna feel you as you moan onto my hand. Come on. Come on you slut. Come-”

Eddie got more aggressive, but it did the trick with the slut shaming doing more than you ever expected. The coil in your tummy snaps, sending waves of pleasure through your body and a white-hot flash past your eyes. You yell loudly into his hand, yelling words you weren’t sure they would make sense even if you didn’t have his hand clamped over your mouth.

As Eddie felt you come around his cock, your wet heat spasming it drew him to his orgasm faster than he was expecting. “Holy shit – Im gonna,” he stops, white hot cum shooting into your pussy, his orgasm overtaking him far faster than he expected.

His hand leaves your mouth, and he falls next to you. “Fuck. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-” he starts to say, but you crawl into his arms and cut him off.

“Don’t care. I will need a morning after pill to make sure we don’t fuck over your uncle a second time, but I don’t care. I love the feeling of your cum in me.” You tell him honestly, leaning in for a kiss.

“I’m pretty sure I made you up,” Eddie mutters as he musters the energy to get up. He does, grabbing a towel and coming back to clean you up. “Hold on, be right back.”

Eddie gets changed into sweats and a band t shirt and runs into the trailer to get a glass of water. When he returns, he has a wet cloth as well and a shit eating grin on his face.

“What happened?” You ask, afraid to know the answer.

“He left a note.”

You didn’t see it when he first came in, a cloth against the mug of water he brought. “What does it say?”

Eddie giggles as he lifts it up and clears this throat dramatically. “It says, ‘You kids don’t know the meaning of the word quiet. I went for a walk. I’ll be back at 11.”

You put your hands over your mouth, mortified that after meeting his uncle its followed by fucking too loud and forcing him out of his own trailer. Eddie doesn’t seem to find this embarrassing, but rather funny. Silently you ask him why he’s laughing. “I didn’t think I would ever be able to fuck so loud that my uncle had to leave, seeing as my virginity status was bound to last until college.” He sighs looking off into distance. “Dreams really do come true.”

You get up, knees weak to grab the cloth in his hands. “I’ll take that.”

“AH ah ah.” He yanks it out of reach. “Lie down. Let me take care of you. Then we’ll go watch something in the living room before I drive you home, ok?”

You lie back down, Eddie placing a nice warm cloth on your pussy to clean it. When he’s done, he gives you some water. “Do you need a shower?” He asks, offering a clean towel from the linen closet. You nod your head no, thinking you’ll just take one at home and you wanted more time together.

Eddie shrugs and gives you your clothes and lets you know he’ll meet you in the living room and it’s his turn to pick the movie.

After Wayne gives you an extra half hour of wiggle room, he finds you sitting on the couch, you refusing to make eye contact as he walks in. He sits next to you anyway, already forgotten.

-

You guyssss have blown me away with the love you have shown these little blurbs I cannot thank you enough. Please let me know what you thought pls I love reading it... xoxo

Again there are more smut scenes in the long story that I won't be posting as a stand alone (like Eddie's their first time.)

[prazinos]

Steve wrote romance novels.

Steve was good at writing romance novels. so much so, that he’s sold millions of copies all over the world, his books being translated into a bunch of different languages.

So when Steve’s latest book comes out, and the love interest is described as having long unruly hair, brown eyes you could get lost in, and a ‘taking no shit from anybody’ personality, Steve’s large fan base started talking about how rockstar Eddie Munson, was what the love interest looked like.

it was largely agreed upon by the fan base, and because of this. Corroded Coffin started blowing up on booktok, and then people started editing Eddie.

Eddie and the rest of CC didn’t mind the extra attention (not that they needed it with nearly thirty million monthly listeners on Spotify). But suddenly everyone was going on about Eddie.

Talking about how attractive he was, his interview clips being posted on tiktok.

And now Steve’s fan base and CC’s fan base start talking about how insane it would be if Steve and Eddie met.

This ordeal goes on for months and months, Steve’s sales skyrocketing.

And then, the met gala rolled around.

Everybody was excited to see what Eddie dressed as, who his plus one would be. Who everyone would be jealous of because they go home with Eddie fucking Munson.

Eddie showed up to the met gala wearing a black suit, red dress shirt, he had a choker on that looked like drops of blood around his neck, a high and dramatic collar turning into a cape.

And who’s his plus one? Steve fucking Harrington.

Steve Harrington, in a cute light blue tux, an expensive looking crown and a matching dramatic collar that turns into a cape (though, not as dramatic as Eddie’s) everybody (rightfully so) freaks the fuck out.

Was this for publicity? Did they do this so that fans would go even more stir crazy?

When they reach the top of the carpet, they walk up to the interviewer who looks like she’s dying to see what’s going on.

“So…how do you two know each other?” she asked

“Stevie here’s my sweetheart, has been for a long time” Eddie grinned

The fans watching are currently freaking out, Steddie trending on twitter

“And so…was Eddie the inspiration for your latest books love interest?”

Steve laughed “Yeah…if im honest half the ways i described the love interest was because of the things i said to my best friend Robin Buckley about Eddie when I had a massive crush on him”

“And who does everybody think Sailor Boy is about? It’s about my sweetheart” Eddie questioned, his arm now resting on Steve’s waist.

They walked off before any more questions could be asked. And now fans were going even more insane,

edits of the two at the met gala blowing up on tiktok, the song Sailor Boy being used as an audio for most.

[trashmouth-richie]

the boy is mine // ziggy’s version ♡

@carolmunson prompt

♡firstly, i’m so excited about this, for the unification this could have for all of us fandom wide— hopefully there are more ideas like this in the future 💕

tw: depictions of hard times, established relationship, blue collar (?) vibes, money troubles, but you’re in love so it’s a non issue. fluffy, illusions to smut but nothing mentioned.

1.3k

the scene: a romantic night in at the trailer.

props included/mentioned (in passing or can hold bigger meaning): a throw pillow, vanilla frosting, a small notebook.

dialogue included (can be manipulated slightly if needed, can be placed in any order):- "i ran out of like, nice cups, is this okay?" - "aw, don't be like that. that's not even true."- "and you like that?"- "if you don't stop, we're gonna have a problem."

Birthdays.

Something rarely celebrated between the two of you. Even though you both agree every year would be different, every new year’s resolution—sworn to do it, but always falling short.

Until this year.

It wasn’t a pony or a working television, and still with the daily struggle of bills piling up and work slowing down— Eddie promised himself, your day would be special.

He dipped into the ‘broken window’ fund— started when some little shits tossed rocks at the “freak’s house”. It consisted of an empty pickle jar that lived in the same dark bottom cabinet holding the potatoes.

Just a few bucks, that’s all he would need until payday on friday.

The shopping basket was nearly pathetic looking as he scoured aisles for a special treat, realizing he had come up short when he needed an extra few bucks for gas.

Putting back the cake mix, the card, and a pack of twizzlers—Eddie left the store with a single can of vanilla frosting, the off brand kind.

He rushed home, hoping to still have enough time to beat you there before your shift ended at work.

Scrounging for the small notebook you got him for christmas, he flipped through the pages filled with past conversations about the pros and cons of leaving the trailer park, a forgotten list for groceries, and an even shorter list of bills that could be pushed back a few days.

He finally finds a clean sheet, clear of pen marks and gets to work. His hands flew with D&D esque inspired calligraphy, scrawling “happy birthday baby!” with a tiny jagged heart at the bottom with his initials.

A car door slams on creaky hinges and he knew you were home before even hearing your soft footsteps on the worn concrete— giving him only seconds to do a quick sniff of his pits and rake through his hair with his fingers— rings getting stuck along the way.

Your keys jingle on your finger as you lug your purse by its strap, nearly to the ground like you were walking a dog on a leash.

“There she is,”

The same cheesy charmer line he had greeted you with since you were teens meeting between classes by your locker, faces wedged almost as one to kiss as much as you could before being late. Hormones on fire.

Eddie ‘benjamin button’ Munson aged backwards, you were sure of it. Where you looked exhausted at any given hour, Eddie's puppy dog eyes grew bigger every day, not a single wrinkle on his cherub face.

“Hey babe,” you yawned with a hand covering your mouth, “did’y have a good day?”

His smile, all dimples and porcelain teeth stretched a mile wide along with his arms as you walked into them, pressing your cheek to the middle of his chest, arms slung lazy on his hips.

“Always a good day babe, never bad. And..someone, not sure who, has a birthday.”

Lifting your head his chin is dipped to you, “someone doesn’t like their birthday, Eddie— it’s a waste.”

You never had, it was never happy before Eddie— stemming from divorced parents fighting about which one should pick up the cake, and who was buying the gifts because ‘I did it last year’ which ultimately dissolved into you telling them not to worry about it because it was just another day.

“Aw don’t be like that,” Eddie frowns, “that’s not even true.”

You grumble into his shirt tossing your head further into him inhaling his scent. He kisses your hairline and strokes your back before working to remove your coat.

“Five years we’ve been together, it’s time we celebrate shit, sweetheart.”

Mumbling a drawn out ‘fiiine’ into him he tips your chin, with a curl of his forefinger, a little smirk on his lips.

“You’re really cute when you pout y’know it?”

“and you like that?”

His lips slot against yours, and you hum with content, “oh darlin’” he says with a fake southern drawl, “I love it.”

-

The tub was filled with the warmest temperature the water heater would allow— which wasn’t a lot, but still, it felt nice on your sore muscles from your shift at the same plant both Eddie and Wayne worked at, opposite shifts from you.

Eddie’s rings clacked on the plastic edge as he slid his long legs around yours into the water, sitting on the other end of the tub. He had helped you undress, hanging your coat on the back of a chair, giving you the beautiful homemade card that made tears spring to your eyes.

He followed behind you into the bathroom, running the water and putting the drain stopper into the drain before he ran back out to the kitchen returning with arms filled with stuff that he kept hidden from you until you were comfortably sitting in the cramped bathtub.

He plugged in an emerald strand of colorful christmas lights that you didn’t even know you had. It filled the cluttered countertop, weaving around the bar of soap and kitchen cup designated for holding your toothbrushes, lighting the bathroom in a cozy Christmas ambience… in April.

“We ran out of like, nice cups— is this okay?” He asked before pouring a can of Busch light into two red cups that were nabbed from Benny’s before it shut down.

Scrunching your face you move your arms from the depths of the water to reach out for his extended offering of warm beer, “when have we ever had nice cups?”

He laughed shrugging, “yeah, you’re right.”

Sitting square in front of you, long legs bent and wide open, Eddie holds up his cup in a cheers, “to you, my love, my sweet beautiful hotter than hell girl who for some reason fell for my charm, happy birthday.”

Clinking a his cup with yours you both smile before taking a swig of the cheap warm beer.

“mm, that’s nice.. what year?” you tease, never even having wine in your life.

He plays along like he always does, swirling the cup and putting the tip of his nose to the rim, “ah yes, a refined 1989 I believe— a good year for Busch I've heard.”

You both laugh until your sides ache. This is why you adored him, making a normal day special by just being him—corny, cheesy, poor— and you had never been happier.

“Oh, wait!” he exclaimed, reaching out of the tub, ribs stretching taunt against his skin, soap sliding down them.

He grabs a lighter from the counter and opens the tub of frosting. Brandishing a white waxed candle tucked behind his ear with the flair of a magician, he plants it in the center before lighting the wick and sitting down roughly in the tub, water splashing onto the floor.

The flame lit up his features, his tongue poked out in concentration, the yellow light filling his dark pudding eyes with a boyish glee, and then they met yours.

“Should I sing?”

You shake your head, happy tears stinging your eyes, “no, this is perfect,”

“Well make a wish.”

You close your eyes tight not knowing what to wish for because all you’ve ever wanted is right in front of you. Blowing out the candle you lean forward and kiss him square on the mouth, hard and deep.

The beer tipped into the tub and was long forgotten as your lips worked down his neck, wet strands of hair curled around, his arms pulling you in, making you sit on his naked lap, the frosting birthday cake sitting on the floor.

You kiss for awhile, your chest pressed into his, his hands squeezing your ass, the heel of his foot knocking the plug from the drain.

“If you don’t stop,” you mutter between kisses, “we’re gonna have a problem.”

Eddie smirks, dimples poking out, stroking your cheek thumb sweeping your swollen bit lip, “throw pillow is already on the bed, besides, I’m not afraid of a little trouble baby.”

[steddieasitgoes]

Steve Harrington as a mailman. Khaki shorts and blue collared shirt all tucked in with a leather belt. Satchel of mail slung over his shoulder. The moms of the neighborhood all wait for him to show up. Joke with him about how he’s lucky he’s cute because he only ever delivers them bills. Occasionally there’s a teen girl waiting for him, eagerly waiting for her college acceptance letter and a visit from the cutest mailman in town.

Steve’s lost track of the amount of times he’s been told he’s too pretty to be a mailman. He just laughs and shrugs. Says someone has to deliver the mail.

And the thing is, Steve loves his job. Loves driving the van and getting out to walk the streets. Loves the small talk with families and cutting deals with skeptical dogs — he keeps a box of treats in his car to win them over.

His favorite house to deliver to is a single-story Victorian house with a porch. Always tries to time his route so that he can go on his lunch break right after stopping there because 9 times out of 10 the little old lady who lives there, Ms. Turner, will invite him in for lunch. She’s the best cook in town and he doesn’t mind her company either.  

It’s a sad day when Steve learns that Ms. Turner’s kids are moving out of state and they’re taking her with her. It warms his heart that they want to be close to their elderly mom, but he can’t help but feel left behind. Ms. Turner was his friend too. 

She makes sure to give him a recipe book of all his favorite dishes and her phone number so he can call and tell her all the gossip she’s missed. 

The house takes forever to sell but when it does the new owners move in quietly. The house immediately starts getting mail delivered to an E. Munson. No one is ever home though so he slips it through the mail slot and keeps going. Until one day, when he’s got a bigger parcel to deliver. One that won’t fit in the mail slot. So he knocks on the door and waits and waits and waits until the door finally opens. 

“So, you’re the cute mailman I keep hearing all about,” the man who answers says and smiles. Steve feels his heart stop and then restart. “M’Eddie. Nice to finally meet you.” 

Steve thinks he’s going to start timing his route so he can have lunch with Eddie now. 

[shares-a-vest]

@steddieangstyaugust Day 8: Miscommunication

wc: 657 | Rated: T | cw: Angst with Unhappy Ending

Tags: Literal Miscommunication, Missing Someone, Angst with Unhappy/Ambiguous Ending, Rockstar Eddie Munson, Teacher Steve Harrington, Modern Universe

'Steve's Bed'

Steve stares up at the big, stupid canopy hanging over the bed and folds his arms.

What’s the point of such a luxurious, expensive bed if he has to spend so much time in it alone? If he had known that matrimony with a rockstar was going to be like this, well –

Well, maybe he wouldn’t have not not married Eddie Munson but… He would have seriously considered just staying in Hawkins. Or maybe moving to Chicago with Robin. Or Dustin’s fucking college campus where the kid teaches!

Steve frowns – maybe that last one is a little weird.

But at least he would have someone. Instead of a gigantic bed that has been his alone for so long, he can’t even detect Eddie’s cologne and (still) cheap shampoo on his side of the bed.

A side of the bed that isn’t really owned by someone else anymore.

It is just Steve’s bed.

And he hates it.

He isn’t naive. He knew Corroded Coffin would be touring for months to celebrate their most recent album.

But there were supposed to be breaks at most, phone calls at least.

Even if he doesn’t get to see Eddie in person, he should be able to talk to him or video call.

But nope.

At first, it was a few missed connections. The tour bus was out of range of service on and off, then the hotel Wi-Fi was shoddy. Then Steve discovered that someone at the label screwed up part of the itinerary, so the copies he had on the refrigerator, in his work bag and at his desk at school became all but useless.

When a call finally did come, Eddie was tired and filled with excuses. When it was Steve's turn to talk, he knew his husband was barely listening.

And then it happened again.

And again. Over and over.

Eddie was always distracted or in the middle of doing something else. Even when he said he was available to talk.

Steve used to be able to brush it all off. Have more patience.

He screws his eyes shut, begging the universe (and his brain) to let him get some shut-eye. He needs to start grading papers the moment he gets to school tomorrow.

But his mind is a race of every instance he hasn’t talked to Eddie. Every moment he was almost able to talk to Eddie. Every moment he wanted to. Needed to.

And each time it made him ache.

His heart is aching.

Perhaps more than ever before.

The thing is, he foolishly thought that the whole Rockstar Thing might be temporary. Maybe it's even selfish for Steve to have ever thought that way. He just figured that after they both hit forty, Eddie and the rest of the band might want to slow down. Even settle down.

Hell, he thought that would happen when they finally got married.

But somehow, it got worse.

More lonely.

Steve pulls back the covers, hoping that a late-night snack might lull him into some sort of food coma to get him through the next few hours. He grabs his phone and shucks on a navy-blue robe embossed with his initials, ‘SM’ now.

He clenches his phone in his hand as he walks down the long and winding main hall of the penthouse, mulling over whether he should call Robin at this hour. Steve gathers the collar of his robe tight to his chest, chilled now that he is out of bed. It might be too big and have the world’s most extravagant canopy, but at least the covers are warm.

He grinds to a halt, just shy of the cavernous living area. The whole place has become some sick and twisted version of his former family home. An empty place. Devoid of life. Where he is left cold and alone.

Steve unlocks his phone and squints against the bright screen light, searching for his lawyer’s number.

[urhoneycombwitch]

Art history professor!Eddie. he wears open-collared button downs. sleeves pushed up to his elbows. so much skin and swirling black ink. thin round wire glasses at the end of his sloped nose. curly hair in a low bun. always in his boots tho. a veritable paradise of slutty academia.

and godddd the way he talks about paintings makes you WHORE. KNEE. squirming in your seat while he’s going on about chiaroscuro and shit. god.

blue veins stark under pale skin. freckle line descending down the column of his neck. whatever god painted prof Munson sure took their time.

[californiaboytoybilly]

Eddie Munson would like to think that years of hunting monsters had taught him to be incredibly aware of his surroundings.

Over those years, lots of things- both of the human and creepy-crawly variety- had tried to get the jump on him and they always either ended up unconscious, or dead.

However, he must have missed something this time.

Pointed fingertips dig into his throat as his back hit the wall hard, enough to feel the aftershock rattle through his bones. The breath was punched out of him in one smooth whoosh.

His eyes shot to his attacker as he tried to rapidly calculate how to get loose.

“Got you.” The man purred. For the briefest moment, he almost could have passed as human with his golden skin and blue eyes, impossibly big and gleaming in the dim alleyway.

Gleaming like a cat’s eyes.

Not human. Vampire. Fuck.

“I will rip your head from your fucking neck—“ Eddie snarled, kicking out with his loose leg. He might as well have kicked a bag of flour for all the good it did him.

“Oh, I’d really rather you didn’t. I’m pretty fond of his head, especially attached.” A second voice chimed in from the other side of the alleyway, earning a snort from the creature who had him trapped.

“You’d just miss my tongue, sweetheart.” He said without hesitating, lips curling into a grin. His sharp teeth glinted. Eddie felt his panic spike as the other figure started to come into focus. He tried to suck in a breath, the hand on his neck a little too tight.

After everything he’d survived— everything he’d done and learned— he was going to be some vampire couples fuckin’ Happy Meal while they flirted over his cooling corpse.

“Mm, maybe. Now come on, Bils. Stop playing with your food, I want to go home.” The other creature stepped free of the shadows at last, studying his nails like a bored trust fund baby.

No, not nails. Claws.

He was tall, athletic in build and covered in lean bands of muscle. A trail of thick, dark hair disappeared into cut off denim shorts, which in literally any situation where his life wasn’t at stake he might’ve been distracted by. His amber eyes were lazily trained on Eddie and the vampire ‘Bils’ and there was a dog collar- with tags- around his throat.

A werewolf? Eddie’s baffled eyes darted between the two. He’d never seen a vampire and a werewolf in the same space unless they were trying to rip each other into tiny, bloody shreds.

What the fuck?

At least he got to see something new as a send off. Very little surprised him in general anymore.

“But he’s feisty. That’s half the fun, Stevie.” The bloodsucker honest to god pouted as he looked back over his shoulder at his partner, who just sighed.

“I’ll do that thing you li-“ Wolfy started, raising an eyebrow.

“Done. Deal.” That only earned him a bark of laughter in response.

Eddie, who’d been slowly getting his arm closer to the sharp dagger hidden in the holster on his belt, suddenly had the vampire’s full attention back on him.

“It’s a waste though. He’s kind of pretty.” He said, venom-sweet breath washing over Eddie’s face as he leaned in. The other one crossed to where they stood. Eddie flinched as a warm hand skimmed over his shoulder and into his hair, claws leaving a tingling trail in their wake.

“He is…” Stevie agreed, starting to sound a little foggy. Eddie felt the tension drain from his body, against his will. As he felt the sharp scratch of fangs on his throat, he sent a quiet apology to Wayne. Those razor sharp teeth cut his skin like butter, making him yelp out in pain. As ripples of euphoria began to spread from his throat to the rest of his body, he heard one last thing come from the werewolves' mouth. "Maybe we can keep him, if you don't make a complete mess of him anyway." Eddie Munson- from hunter to prized show poodle, he thought sardonically as his brain started to swim. And that's when he lost the battle against unconsciousness.

[corrodedcoffincumslut]

Pairing - Eddie Munson X Gareth Emerson X Plus size Fem-reader 18+ content

Blurb- Friday nights are yours, Eddie & Gareth's smoke sessions, but after enduring the sexual tension of being the third-wheel to yours & Eddie's heavy petting something changes for virgin Gareth.

Warnings- SMUT - Over 18’s ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!! M-F-M (P in V). Cream pie. Drug use Eddie, Gareth & Reader (Weed). Smoking. MMF threesome. Assplay. Squirting. Oral (M) Fingering. Loss of virginity (M). Daddy-kink. Consensual sharing of a partner (established relationship & best friend). Dom/Sub. Pet names. Choking. Possessiveness. Voyeurism. Pervy (if you squint). Reader has nipple piercings. Eddie has a PA piercing. No use of Y/N. Please let me know if I’ve missed any others.

Word count- 6.3k

Reader is referred to as "Bunnie" and is described as a plus-sized beauty (thick thighs, tummy & large breasts are all adored and worshiped here) and is referenced to have blue eyes. No description of hair colour.

*Please don't copy my work or repost on any other platforms without my permission. *Although I do appreciate likes, reblogs and comments if you've enjoyed my work!*

Authors note- This was a labour of love, its the first fic I started to write in the Bunnie-verse, but I couldn't seem to get it right and I'm somewhat of a perfectionist & terrible self critic so this fic has been in my drafts for well over 18 months. Finally I feel I did my idea justice. I hope anyway. Please enjoy and let me know, if you enjoy my ramblings again! Big thanks to my girl @bexreadstoomuch for proofreading (many many many times)!

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Your heavy eyes blinked through the smoke haze which filled the inside of Eddie’s bedroom.  At the foot of the bed, Gareth sat crossed legged, rolling another joint, before licking a wet stripe across the paper’s edge, sealing the green inside, twisting the end and lighting the tip, in what felt like one smooth swift move. You both giggled at the dumb jokes Eddie was chackling behind, you sat nestled in your boyfriend's lap, passing the joint between the three of you. Nearing the roach, you could feel Eddie’s hands start to wander, as they always did after several joints. Not wanting to make Gareth feel like the third wheel for what felt like the billionth time when you hung out, you pushed Eddie’s hands back towards your waist into the familiar hug from before. 

Eddie, unhappy with your wriggling, squeezes you tight into his chest, almost too tight causing you to whine. “Eddieeeee, I can’t breathe…” you sign out, your face turning to the side. Which in hindsight only opened your neck up to be attacked in sloppy wet kisses by the floppy haired boy. “Sweetheart, you just make me so, so, well I think you can feel how you make me feel” he whined back into your neck as the kisses trailed down from behind your ear to the top of your collar bones. He was right, you could feel exactly how you made him feel, the firm reminder grinding into your lower back. Turning to face him you smiled, biting your lower lip between your teeth, muttering a small “hmmm” in agreement. “Such a tease” Eddie whispered only loud enough for you to hear. 

Gareth fiddled and bit the skin of his fingertips, anything but to draw his attention back to the two of you, close, Eddie’s hands caressing the curves of your hips up to your breasts. Where he ghosted over the fullness of your tits, in an attempt to see your nipples peak at the touch, which successfully they did.  Glancing over you to the bottom of the bed, you see the awkward boy fumbling with his hands, jealousy painted over his soft face. “Aaargghh come on guys, please don’t make me witness your stoned, horny foreplay again” he muttered, pulling himself off the bed and stumbling out of the room. 

Feeling guilty you turned to face the wolfish grin painted on Eddie’s face, “Come on Eddie '' you sighed “Gareth’s right, he’s seen the outline of your boner waaay too many times already. It’s not fair on him, and I don’t wanna make him regret coming over to hang out again. I just don't see why the girls don’t flood to him though, he deserves someone he can blossom with. He’s cute, caring, smart and I remember from the pool last summer, those shorts didn’t leave much to the imagination” you smirked “I mean if we ever break up, hey I’ll give him a ride anytime”. Eddie started howling just as Gareth’s stunned face came into view, as he walked back in the room after grabbing a beer, hearing the majority of your confession. 

“You know these trailers aren’t soundproof Bunnie, I thought you learnt that last time Wayne caught us, you know after the incident with the cuffs and the vibrator, the one whereee….” Eddie playfully teased. “EDDDDIIIEEE!” you whined cutting Eddie off before he could confess all your sins, “stop talking!” sealing it with a kiss, smiling. Gareth stood blindsided in the doorway, too stunned to speak, before butting in “You’d fuck me?! You? Bunnie, Eddie’s girl. The hottest chick I know would fuck me? I know I’m not swimming in pussy Bunnie, but don’t mock me. I can’t take it, and not with you guys banging like rabbits. You know I’m still a virgin, there’s me just beating off, into my hand off every day, that shit’s just cruel!” Gesturing to the growing lump between his legs. 

Eddie turned to smile at you, whispering in your ear “you know we could always try that fantasy we spoke about?” taking your earlobe between his teeth nibbling at the soft skin between his teeth, before kissing down your neck, causing shivers to run down your spine. “Go on baby, tell Gareth again, how much you’d like to ride on his virgin cock. How you want us to take it in turns fucking your pretty pussy, until you’re scream both our names for the whole trailer park to hear”.

Red eyed and brain still hazed from the weed, you half lidded smiled at the thoughts swimming in your head. The dirty thoughts of Gareth’s shy face pressed deep between your legs as Eddie guided him on how to please you, until your vision got blurry and tears streamed from your eyes in blinding white hot pleasure. 

Releasing you from his grasp Eddie watched from his place on the bed as you rose from his lap, feet gliding across the carpet over to Gareth. Grasping his shirt in your hands, your hands pressed into his chest. You leaned your forehead on his, your warm breath causing goosebumps to prick onto his skin and the baby hairs on the nape of his neck to erect. “Kiss me Gareth” you whispered into his mouth, before crashing your plump soft lips on his boyish chapped ones. A smile grew across your lips as you pulled back to stare into his glazed over eyes. 

Eddie groaned from the bed behind you. Looking over your shoulder you saw him, rubbing his hard, thick cock over the rising tent of his sweats. Biting your lip and sliding your dewy tongue across, slipping your silver tongue bar between your teeth you giggled back at Gareth. Still shocked Gareth stared blankly into your eyes, almost forgetting to blink entirely. 

“Cat got your tongue Gare-bear” you giggled, “Or was it Bunnie” Eddie interjected. The wolfish grin, ever present on his angular face. “Kiss her again Gare, she likes it when you’re rough. Go on, and slip her some tongue this time. I wanna see her squirm like she does for me”. 

Snapping out of his state of shocked hypnosis, growing in confidence at Eddie's encouragement, he placed his hands on your waist as he pulled you in. Placing a hand on your cheek, “Are you okay with this Bunnie?”, enticing a nod from you he smashed his lips back on yours once more. You feel his silken tongue skim across your plump bottom lip, probing for entry into your warm mouth. Inviting him in you suck on the tip of his tongue, eyes falling closed with delight as you feel him tangle it back with yours. Gareth’s kiss was tender and encasing, making the world outside of your field of vision drift away to nothing. 

Only the groans of Eddie bring you back to reality, as he approaches you from behind, smacking his big firm hand on your ass, rubbing the fat rounded curves. ”Sweetheart, you’re making me jealous all alone over there. Sprinkle some of that sugar on me, would you?” Feeling his curls tickle your shoulders you broke away from Gareth’s lips, to turn back to kiss Eddie’s inviting puffy lips instead. Eddie’s hands slid over your round hips, following your curves down your thick thighs. “God Bunnie, you’re so fucking sexy, you ass looks sinful in those jeans” pulling the tough fabric against your legs, feeling the denim snapping back to your skin causing you to jump. “Undo the front button Gare, let us see you in all your beautiful glory baby” Eddie said. 

Reaching for the front button of your jeans with shaky hands Gareth undid the offending jeans as Eddie pulled them down your legs, leaving a trail of open mouthed kisses down the backs of your legs, until they pooled at your ankles on the floor. Standing between the two men in your black lace panties, one of Eddie’s old tattered Black Sabbath shirts now barely covered your voluptuous cheeks. “So, so fucking sexy, don’t you agree Gare” Eddie’s gruff voice growlled for you both to hear. Gareth hummed in agreement, still in disbelief of the situation he found himself in on a usual Friday evening hangout, with the unusual added twist of his best friend allowing him to share his girlfriend for the night. 

Turning back, leaning back into Eddie’s touch you found yourself rubbing your hands over Gareth’s chest following the lean lines of his little podge tummy, luring the familiar squirming Eddie had commented on before to his friend. “Lose the shirt too Bunnie, you know I can’t resist those perfect big tits you’re keeping from us, and I know Gareth’s had many a night thinking about them too. I’ve caught him staring enough times, drool practically dripping from his chin” Eddie teased, pulling the hem of the shirt up over your head lifting your arms to allow him to remove it. You complied with his actions. “You’re being so good for us Bunnie” Eddie cooed.   

Succumbing to Eddie’s words, you felt exposed and vulnerable between the fully clothed men boxing you in. Eddie pulled at the hem of your shirt, tugged the tatted item up and over your shoulders, allow him to fully remove the offending clothing. Your soft breasts falling out, jiggling with the movement, pert pierced nipples hard from the cool air you’d been exposed to. Silver bars catching Gareth’s eyes, his focus now solely on your tits, a vision he thought he’d never see outside his own head, silver bars through each, causing Gareth’s cock to grow ever harder. Eddie pulled you back onto the bed, placing himself at the headboard, inviting you to sit between his legs once more. Gareth followed, stumbling forward, kneeling at your feet. Eddie thrust your milky thighs apart, fully exposing your wet, ruined panties to Gareth. 

“Awww sweetheart you’re soaking, what’s got you this worked up already. Was it thoughts of  your little Gare-bear taking care of you?” Eddie patronised in your ear, hot breath dancing over the skin. Open mouthed kisses landed on your neck, as Eddie’s nibble fingers wound into the hem of your panties. Running his nimble fingers through your folds, his fingers now covered in your slick. “Gonna take these off now Bunnie, s’that okay with you?” Eddie checked in for your welcomed consent. You nodded again. “Gonna need some words baby, if you want this to go further '' Eddie encouraged, chin tucked in, looking over his brows. “Yes”, you huffed out “please, please I want this”. 

Hooking his thumbs over the top of the lace, he slowly pulled your panties down over your plush round hips. The slick, soaked centre sticking to the centre as he pulled them down your smooth inked legs, before throwing them in Gareth’s face. “You alright there Gare” Eddie ridiculed, “You’re staring bud, what’s wrong never seen a pussy this pretty before, is that it? Better than any of porn mags is this, ain’t that right Bunnie? Bestest pussy I’ve ever tasted” he groaned “so sweet, so warm, so tight, so inviting”. 

Eddie ran his fingers through your glistening folds again, through the lines of your sweet cream. Fingertips grazing over your entrance, causing a light shudder to fall down your spine and a yielding moan to fall from your lips. Your head fell back again into Eddie’s shoulder as his fingers pushed back up to your swollen bud. Tracing small figures of eight over the hardened nub, tingles and deeper moans falling from your mouth once more. The echoing pressure building in your stomach, the coil tightening with every relentless pass. Swift fingers dipped into your entrance fucking you onto his thick appendages, whilst his thumb took over the tight circles on your clit. A long groan spilling from your lips. Eyes slammed shut you breathed through your gritted teeth, coaching you through the satisfaction of what you were craving. “Don’t stop baby, I’m close” you whined into Eddie’s neck. 

Eddie reached forward grabbing Gareth’s hands, bringing them to your throbbing core. “Touch her Gare, she’s so close, go on, feel her.” Gareth’s fingers almost trembled at the lightest touch on your slick folds. Eddie guided his fingers up to the swollen bud again, rolling the nib between both their fingertips. “That’s it Gare, just press right there” Eddis softly spoke. Gareth’s face shone with amazement as you writhed under their shared touch, breathy moans singing from your throat. All of a sudden you shuddered, shaking, climbing rapidly towards your high. A silent moan echoed as you hit the peak. Your face contorting, eyes squeezed tightly shut and pressed to O shape. 

“That’s it sweetheart” Eddie cooed in your ear “Gonna give us another?” You nodded, head still swimming under the water. Continuing the punishment on your clit, and pussy, another strangling moan reverberated out your pink lips. Eddie plunged his fingers in and out, the pace intoxicating you further down the rabbit hole into pure sinful pleasure, overstimulation is starting to set in. “Eyes open Bunnie, I want Gareth to see those baby blues when you come for us again”. Peeling your eyes open to meet Gareth wanting ones, staring back into your tearful ones. Tear drops threatening to overspill your lashes as you came with another cry. Intaking heavy breaths to try and keep yourself grounded.  

“Good girl, you’re doing so well for us baby” Eddie muttered into your ears through his own heavy breaths. The constant bulge in your lower back twitching pressed into your damp skin. Glancing down you could the same reaction from Gareth, a growing damp patch of pre-cum seeping through the fly of his jeans. Eddie smiled a merciless grin again and your eyes widened at the sight, your strong tongue gliding across your lip taking it between your teeth as you looked back up to his boyish face.

“I wanna taste you” you said in awe to Gareth. “You heard the lady, Gare. You don’t wanna leave our little Bunnie waiting any longer, do you? Eddie enlivened. Gareth began stripping himself of his clothes quicker than you thought humanly possible. Ripping the hem of his Judas Priest shirt over his fluffy curls, shaking his hair down like an excited puppy through the neckhole. Fiddling with the button and fly of jeans with sticky fingers, ripping them down his strong muscular thighs, sprinkled with sparse brunette hairs. Kicking them off to the side, throwing his trainers with them. Leaving him in his red checked cotton boxers, large protruding tent front and centre. 

You reached forward the palm over the clothed bulge, wiggling your fingertips tickling his balls, causing the boy to groan and gasp. “Always wanted to taste you Gare, you have such a pretty face. I’m glad I’m the one who's going to ruin you for every other girl after. I’m gonna blow your mind Gare, an’ your cock. Do you want that Gare? Your big fat cock stuffed in my pretty mouth” you purred, your fingers creeping over the elastic reaching down to grasp your fingers around his length. Gareth’s firm cock, didn’t feel as thick or long as Eddie’s but it definitely wasn’t small. You ran your fingers up and around his shift, feeling around 6 and halfish inches, with thick pulsing veins running up the sides. 

Gareth gasped as you held a firm hold on his cock, slowly moving your hand up and down the shaft to get him used to the sensation. Your nails brushed against the curls at the base, running your fingertips through the hairs before going down to cup his aching balls. The soft skin was warm in your palm. 

“Fuck” Gareth whispered out, head falling back to the ceiling,“your hands feel so soft Bunnie”. You giggled, looking up at the blissful blush painted across Gareth’s cheeks. 

“Take these off for me please, Gare-bear. Wanna see you in all your glory now”, you parroted Eddie’s words. Gareth slowly pulled down his well-worn cotton boxers, his cock springing out and to attention. Your eyes fixated to his leaking cock, drool gathering in your mouth at the taboo thoughts of two best friends fucking you. 

“Aww Bunnie, you're teasing him” Eddie cooed from the headboard, hand now palming himself over his jeans. “Why don’t you show him what a good girl you are, like when you suck Daddy’s cock”. 

Your pleading eyes met Gareth’s blown out pupils. “Can I use my mouth on you Gareth?” you sweetly asked. “Sure Bunnie, I erm, sure yeah, I’d love that” he mumbled, still unbelieving this was happening. “Just sit back, if there’s anything you don’t like, let me know, yeah” you softly spoke. Placing a tender kiss on his lips.Gareth nodded in agreement. 

Leaning down you kissed the tip of Gareth’s leaking cock, licking the pearls of pre-cum and swallowing them with a “hmmm”. 

“Does he taste good, Bunnie?” Eddie called from behind, now folded over your back, placing a line of kisses down your spine. Shivers rickersahed through your body. Eddie’s fingers danced over your hips and waist and you pushed Gareth cock into your warm, wet, wanting mouth. Tongue licking the underside from base to tip, flicking Gareth’s frenulum. A hiss through his teeth at the sensitivity. Grinning you swallowed him, taking his whole length in your mouth, head beginning to bob up and down. His mouth curls tickling your nose on every bob of your head. You could hear encouraging hisses and groans from above.

Eddie now face buried in your ass, lips left wet open mouthed kisses across your peachy fullness, firm hands pulling your cheeks apart to see your tight hole. “Fuck Bunnie, you gonna let me play your ass, while you play with Gareth. Daddy loves watching you squirm, Princess.”

“Mmmm yeah Daddy, please” you moaned in replied lips leaving Gareth’s cock moment, as a big glob of spit travelled down your ass welling in your tight hole, lighting your super sensitive hole on fire with desire. Eddie’s fingers circled your puckered asshole, teasing the pressure as his finger slipped into the first knuckle, A loud moan ripped through your throat “Fuccckk” you cursed, your body shuddering as your mouth wrapped again round Gareth’s dripping cock, head bobbing back into a steady rhythm. Eddie continued to massage your tight hole, slowly pushing his fingertip in and out, spitting down between your cheeks again occasionally, to keep it slick. Teasing nibbles landing on your ass cheeks, as Eddie’s firm hands massaged your voluptuous peachy behind and slipping below to tease your clit some more.   

Gareth was rapidly falling apart, soon to be losing control. His hands grasped your head, fingers tangled in your hair. “Fuck Bunnie, its to good. I don’t wanna cum just yet” he blurted out, worry slung across his face. 

Releasing his cock from your flushed lips, you smiled, pulling yourself back and sitting on your heels. “Good boy” you praised, “so sweet for me” your sweetly smiled. “Do you want me to give me Teddy some attention whilst you calm down a little, then you can fuck my pussy when you feel ready, hmmm? I just wanna take care of you, don’t feel pressured though. We can stop anytime”. Honey dripped from your words. 

How could you be this sweet to him, after all the times he’d heard you and Eddie fucking, it seemed slower, more sensual, all soft edges for him. You cared for him, you really cared he felt comfortable and safe. The decisions were his, but guided by you and Eddie. His best friend and his best friend’s insanely hot, sinfully curvaceous, loving girlfriend. 

Gareth nodded in agreement, your sweet smile reassuring his anxiety. Turning your head to Eddie, your sweetness illuminating his face, sacrilegious smile fixated on his gleaming back at you. “Show me the goods, Big boy” you purred, crawling up the bed towards Eddie’s lap. “Someone’s awakened the minx in you today, Bun” he teased, as your hands hastily pulled his blue plaid boxer shorts down his thigh, unleashing Eddie’s rock hard cock. Hitting his stomach with the wet slap, precum beading at the tip. “Offft” Eddie gasped “easy Princess, don’t damage the goods!” Eddie joked. Eddie’s big hands encasping your face pulling you in, chapped, bitten lips meeting your plump, fleshy ones. Eddie’s tongue lazily swept over your bottom lip, before pushing forward into your soft, wet mouth. Releasing you with a smack of his lips again, a saccharine smile stretched across his face. Dreamy pools of chocolate stared back into yours, losing yourself in the black irises. 

Gareth’s chokes shook you back to reality, “Fuck Ed’s, I didn’t know you’d got a piercing down there?” Gareth’s shocked questioning made you giggle. “Yeah, got it a few months back, when I was last up in Indy at the tattoo shop” Eddie laughed, “Thought fuck it, heard it good for the ladies and I know Bunnie here agrees” Eddie’s eyes flicked to your blushed face, “...and I mean why not adorn the trouser snake, it’s pretty metal right?” Eddie gestured to the circular ring through the end of his hard cock, the silver twinkling like a beacon in the dim light. Gareth was definitely straight that he knew, but he had to agree it did look great. 

Your small hands gripped Eddie’s shaft, fingers running up the length and back down, teasing touches before you kissed the tip, featherlight. Kitten licking his slit, tongue wrapping the ring before softly sucking on the bulbous head. Eddie groaned in pleasure, head thrown back into the headboard, if he wasn’t so high and distracted he would definitely be in pain from the impact. “Fuck that’s hot” is all you hear above Eddie’s moans. Gareth’s awestruck face watching the scene before him. Stroking his own cock, whilst he switched between gazing at your puffy wet pussy, slick covered plush thighs and head bobbing up and down the length of Eddie’s cock. 

Hollowing your cheeks you sucked harder on Eddie’s dick. Gathering your hair in a makeshift ponytail in his hands, lightly guiding you up and down on his length. “Shiiittt, Bunnie, your mouth feels so good princess” Eddie praised above you. “Always such a good slut for Daddy, that’s it, always take my dick so well.” Humming vibrations swelled in your throat as you took Eddie deeper in your throat. Your free hand drifting lower to cradle Eddie’s full balls in your hands, rolling them between your nimble fingers, gently squeezing the skin in your palm. 

Usually you could spend all night with Eddie’s firm cock weighing on your tongue, but right now you were so turned on, the thoughts of two sets of hands caressing your skin, two mouths lapping over on your erect nipples and two piercing cocks splitting you open, watching you crumble and come undone. You needed more. Releasing Eddie’s cock from your lips, you satback on your knees, pushing your hair over your shoulder as Eddie let go and replaced your mouth with his own guitar calloused, motor oil stained hands.

Glancing over your shoulder at Gareth with wide eyes you softly spoke, “Want you Gare-bear, want you inside me” seduction dripping from every word. “Want you to fuck me, want your cum”, your hands playing with your budding nipples, lightly squeezing the bars through each, pulled and pressing into your heavy breasts, teasing yourself. Turning yourself round you crawled back over Gareth, sitting firm in his lap. Leaning in hot breath on his neck, placing wet kisses up the column of his throat. “You want me to ride you pretty boy?” you questioned, wide doe eyes looking at him. 

Nodding Gareth placed his trembling hands over the podgy skin of your waist and hips, finger tips pushing into the squishy flesh, massaging the fat there adoringly. “Yeah Bunnie, please, please ride me, it’s all I’ve thought about every time we’ve smoked. Always wanted this, wanted you, but I thought I’d never get this, Eddie knows that. Always been jealous of you two” Gareth hushed out, glancing over to Eddie behind now behind you kissing your upper back and neck, his rough hands running up and down your spine. “It’s true Bun, should have seen his face after I told him we made it official, felt like I’d kicked a puppy”. 

Rolling your head back to meet Eddie’s shoulder, Gareth’s hands wandered up to grasp your breasts, replacing yours mirroring your previous movements. “You want me to fuck you raw or I can get you a condom, we have some, Eddie can you grab one, I mean its your first time so it’s not like your not clean, I’m on the pill so ya know that’s not a issue…” you began to ramble, serious undertones checking consent before taking the plunge. “Yes, god yes” Gareth abruptly interrupted, “Jesus yes, I wanna fuck you so bad, please I wanna know what it really feels like, no barriers Bunnie please!”  

Gareth’s impatience filled you confidence, adjusting your legs, your doughy thighs straddled Gareth’s hairy muscular ones, tense from years of drumming. Hovering your awaiting sopping pussy over his pearling cock, you rubbed his pink mushroom head through your soaked folds, rutting against your overly over-stimulated, sensitive clit.  Causing all the air in the lungs to escape you, a deep breath you didn’t realise you were holding. “You ready, handsome?”  you whispered in his ear, lips tickling the shell of his ear, before looking into his eyes to check consent. Gareth’s hands held your hips as he nodded, his own breath stuck in his throat, stuttering a simple “yes, please”.  

Lowering yourself down until Gareth’s mushroom tip pushed past your slick folds, you moaned at the intrusion. “Congrats Gare, you’re no longer a virgin” you giggled, sinking further down to hilt. “How’s it feel, buddy? Like warm apple pie? Like kisses from ya momma?” Eddie joked from behind you, cock in hand lazily stroking himself. “Fuck off Eddie” Gareth breathed out laughing. Reaching back you playfully shoved Eddie, shaking your head  and rolling your eyes. After giving Gareth a minute to adjust to the wet warmth of your cunt, you began to move. Grinding down against his slender hips, building that sweet friction you desired to climb the hill of pleasure. “Fuck” Gareth sighed out, lolling his head back. “Jesus, this feels good”. “Mmm yeah, you feel good Gare, stretching my tight pussy out” you moaned out, placing your lips on Gareth grounding yourself as you rocked back and forth chasing your high.

Eddie’s deft hands found their way up your waist, rub and up over your tits, rolling your pert nipples between his fingers, you squeaked in pain and pleasure. Pulling and massaging the supple fullness of your supple breasts. Feeling the knot in your stomach begin to tighten again you started slowly bouncing on Gareth cock, letting him almost slip out before smashing your hips back down, the drag of his cock rubbing against your spongy spot, erupting gasps and moans falling from you lips as Gareth kissed your neck. Sinking deeper in the drowning pleasure of two mens attention entirely on you. “Good girlll…such a fucking good girl for us Bunnie” Eddie growled, extending the sound of the first L. Feeling needy you whined tilting your head back onto Eddie’s shoulder again, chasing his kiss. 

Locking lips with Eddie, his cock now nudging your lower back and he helped guide you bouncing on his best friend cock. Gareth’s face was scrunched in concentration. Endless moans and gasps harmonising with yours, hands glued to the fat of soft your hips, grabbing the flesh and holding it tight. You knew you’d probably have bruises from his fingertips, but it was worth every purple mark he’d leave you as a reminder. 

The knot in your stomach felt impossibly tight now. “Need to cum Ed’s, please” you whined. “Oooohh Sweetheart, so soon, you’re such a good girl letting us know. Go on, cum for us princess. Reward Gareth for making you feel so good with your cum, cream on over his big, thick cock for me” Eddie cooed. More harmonic whimpers and moans fell from your open lips, “I’m gonna cum… oh mmm… I’m cumming” you sweetly moaned. Eddie rewarded your permission by kissing your cheek as you fell forward, your body quaking in Eddie’s hands gripping firmly over Gareth’s shoulders to keep you upright. 

Your nails leaving crescent moon imprints in his skin, as your orgasm washed over you. Your pussy cramped, milking Gareth’s cock as you chanted his name as you came. “Good fucking girl, look at you. All messy for us'”, Eddie praised as he kissed your shoulder, one, two, three times on a descending trail. Gareth immediately came after you, white spurts white washing your quivering, gummy walls. “Fuckkkkk Bunnie.” Gareth panted, trying to catch his breath gathering his thoughts, as he came back to earth. “That was amazing, God you’re so hot, I can’t believe we did this. Woah, shit, uh huh, yeah? Gareth John Emmerson, virgin no more. Certified sexually active male!” Thanks Bunnie, that's the hardest I’ve ever came. Does it always feel that good? Like, shit, wow” Gareth grinned, rubbing the back of his neck. You replied “You’re welcome Gare '' giggling, “Lost ya V-card now, finally. You stud! It was good yeah, you made me cum, so you’ve better than the guy I lost my virginity too. But you'll have to excuse me, I gotta take care of my Teddy now", a saccharine smile painted on your face and you turned your head to face your floppy haired sex demon of a boyfriend.    

Feeling your combined spends dripping from your stuffed, spasming hole, you lifted yourself up off Gareth’s softening cock, placing a kiss on the tip of his nose before turning your attention towards Eddie. “Ooh Bunnie, are you still feeling lovey-dovey and fuzzy, or do you need your Daddy to show you who you really belong too?” Eddie’s hushed tones made chills run down your spine. Placing a messy kiss on your lips, all teeth and tongue. His hands grasp at the soft meat of your thighs, “Get over here now” pulling you into his lap. 

Harsh kisses engulf your mouth as his hands come to hold the side of your head, fingers slayed to temples, thumbs tucked under your jaw. “My sweet girl” Eddie growls, pushing you back onto the worn threadbare sheets, under his weight. The instant your skin touched the butterscotch cream cotton, Eddie was on you, wet kisses and stripes of spit now adorning your neck and chest. Leaning back on his heel, head forward, his hair curtaining the devilish smirk prancing across his brow. 

He plunged himself in you, leaving you no time to adjust, fucking into your sopping, creaming heat. Hands pinning you by the throat, to the mattress, your eyes spun back into your eye. Wrapping your legs around his slim waist, you pushed against his perfectly tight ass, driving him even further inside your spasming, saturated cunt. 

The possessiveness of Eddie shook you, but you’ve never felt so exposed and turned on. Gareth’s eyes wide, softening cock now rapidly refilling with blood, blush creeping deep pink, up his neck and cheeks.  Eddie fucked his best friend’s spend further inside you, the wet squelching sounds echoing throughout the room, as Eddie’s heavy balls slapped against your dribbling ass cheeks and sticky thighs. “Fuck Bunnie, you feel fucking amazing sweetheart. You like it when Daddy fucks Garebear’s cum inside you? Yeah, yeah I bet you do, I’m good to my princess, letting her play with her fuck toys. But don’t forget you’re mine!” Eddie growled through gritted teeth whilst pounding into your aching pussy. “My little sweet fuck toy. Daddy’s…little…cum…slut”, Punctuating each word with a harsh thrust. 

Eddie fucked you at a relentless pace, he’d never been this rough before, it almost scared you, but definitely thrilled you most. Your pussy was throbbing at an alarming rate, the usual pattern of your orgasm being overtaken by an unignorable pressure in your pelvis. Every stroke of Eddie’s cock against your gummy walls, ascending you higher to your rapture, until it became too much to handle. “Eeeedddddiiiieeee, Mmm, Eddiie” you whimpered between harsh deep breaths. “Can’t hold it any more, I need to cum. Need to cum for you baby, please I need to cum” you pleaded. “Yeah cum for me princess, cum all over Daddy’s cock, my sweet girl.” 

Releasing a silent scream, your eyes clamped shut. You suddenly felt a flooding wetness pouring between your thighs. Your own spend expelling from your creamy cunt, and dripping down your tighter hole below. “Ffffffuuuuuccccckkkkk Bunnie” Eddie gasped. “You’re fucking perfect, squirting all over Daddy’s cock. Sweetheart, I fucking love you Princess. I fucking love these perfect, big tits, I fucking love this fat ass and I fucking love this tight pussy” Eddie grappled and grabbed the fat of your waist as he sat back on his heels, watching his throbbing soaked cock, pumping in and out of you your wetness. Your spend still gushing down his cum gutter hips while each thrust forward. Your creamy spend matting the tight brunette curls at the base of his aching cock. Tilting his head back in pure bliss himself as your pussy massaged his cock. “That's it princess, keep squeezing my cock. Milk my cock. You want my cum, Sweetheart? You want Daddy’s cum too? Where do you want me to cum, my sweet girl?” Eddie questioned. “Inside Daddy, fill me full of your cum too, please. Please I want your cum Daddy, please, please, please. Need it please” you babbled, between soft whimpers and moans of ecstacy. 

Eddie pounded into you a few more harsh thrusts, snatching all the breath from your lungs, until a throaty growl ripped from his own chest. One fuck into your pulsating soaked sex, he erupted inside you, coating your aching centre with his scent. Followed by three shallow jolts, fucking his spend deeper inside, a shiver rolling down his spine at the force he came with. 

“Christ, Bunnie” Eddie huffed, head hanging down, catching his breath as his heart rate began to steady. “Fuck you trying to kill me here, since when could you squirt!? I’m a mess baby, you’ve made such a mess, my dirty, sweet girl” Eddie leant down over your heaving boneless form, placing a soft kiss to your lips, you giggled breaking the spell of haziness. 

“Fuckkkk.”  Another voice spoke.

Remembering the last hour of your life, both you and Eddie suddenly remembered the third in the room. The man you’d just taken the virginity of. In front and with the permission of your boyfriend. The man who’s now softening dick was slipping out of you. The crash back to reality dawning on your slightly stoned, post-orgasmic, purple hazed brains. The complications which could occur following this impulsive, drug-fueled decision. 

“That… That, was hottest shit I’ve ever seen. How’d you do that man? How’d you make her do that? Bunnie, Bunnie how?” You could see Gareth’s mind untangling, the bewilderment evident on his face. The complete confusion baked into Gareth's face, made you and Eddie break into cackling laughter. Eddie rolling over and falling off the bed in a fit of convulsing giggling, kicking his legs at his friends expense, His sweaty mane, stuck to his pretty features. 

After regaining his composure Eddie replied, “Just the prize of being a pure, unadulterated sex god, like me I guess Gare. You'll get there buddy, it just takes some practice, right Bunnie?” He chortled. 

“Sure thing Eds, if you say so” you grinned back, hiding your face in your hands. Gareth's face is still frozen in a picture of awestruck shock. Standing off the bed, you addressed your lovers, “Look boys, I’m gonna grab a shower. How about you put your dicks away and roll me another blunt, I deserve to be doted on hand and foot after that performance, I also require a dr pepper and candy, please” your pleading eyes looking at Eddie & Gareth, before heading off to the bathroom of the clammy trailer. 

“Welcome to the world of women Gare, this is the price we pay. You’re gonna be a slave to the pussy now, buddy.” Eddie joked, slapping Gareth on the back and he jumped up and followed you to the bathroom. “Gareth’s got it honey, I’ll help scrub your back sweetness”, Eddie threw a wink at Gareth before shutting the bathroom door and sliding the lock. 

Gareth groaned looking down at his softening cock, realising he’d come a second time over his stomach, too frozen by the scene in front of him to register his own excitement spill again. Ropes of dripping white down his abs and in his treasure trail of curls. “Slave to the pussy? Shit, he’s got that right!” Gareth muttered to himself, cleaning his pearled stomach with an abandoned shirt. Reaching for the papers, grinder, Eddie’s weed and tobacco. “Slave to the god, damn, pussy! And it's not even mine! Whipped for another man’s girlfriend. I’m so fucked.” 

“Edddddiiiiieeee, stop! Stooooop! No more! You’re insatiable!” Gareth could hear your giggles from inside the shower, Eddie’s wet kisses and lips circling, sucking and licking over your peaked nipples under the water stream. Groaning, he fell back onto the bed, closing his eyes to dull the ache that shot straight to his stiffening dick again.   

“I’m so very FUCKED” he thought to himself. 

----------------------------------------------

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[punk-in-docs]

🕷️ Girlfriend is Better 🕷️

Eddie Munson x reader

10.9k words

Summary: Eddie x Pencils hit a bit of a hurdle in their early relationship. But she puts it to rights - and then hits the sweet metal head with an offer he can’t refuse- tw violence, past assault: in this chap folks - sorry its taken so long to get this done - enjoy

Eddie can feel their eyes on him.

He feels it’s undeserved and let’s be honest, a little odd. It’s not as if he’s not doing anything out of the ordinary here. He’s just being- normal.

His version at least. His wheelhouse batshit normal. Eddie-like.

They’re looking at him like he’s grown a new head.

Munson Motor mouth, rabbiting on its usual mile a minute as Motörhead shreds through the van speakers with Lemmy’s choppy and tasty riffs.

Early morning cigarette that he lit before he hopped in the van for the drive to school, curling smoke held between two fingers.

He’s batting the saggy steering wheel in time to the song. Ba-da-da with his other open palm to coincide with drum clashes that pound through like falling rocks and crashing thunder.

He still takes the corners way too fast like a coked up maniac. Some things will never change.

He looks the same. Smiles the same. But there’s a new breed of manic warping his usual calamity of a nature.

He’s not grumbling about this morning. Or a test or pop quiz he had coming up. No miserable sluggishness. Toothpaste breath. Not slumped and still yawning. With nothing but a weak instant coffee, two sugars, as his one and only source of breakfast. Gritty coffee that still catches the grounds between his back teeth.

Hair that mushed dry state that’s hard to tell if it’s met with a brush or not yet. Possibly this morning. It’s a maybe. It’s a not really.

Leather and battle vest showed up for duty on his lanky torso as per usual. Hellfire shirt of course. The ripped jeans. The wallet chain that swings and jingles and clatters to denim when he walks and makes him sound like a jangling six foot cat with a little tinkling bell on its collar. It’s all there. The jangly jacketed freak is all assembled.

But there’s this newness to the way he’s smiling.

So wide it dimples his cheeks. Creases the corner of those intimidating wells of eyes. It’s like someone’s fuel injected him with something to make him wilder. More swirly. Practically floating. Any higher he’d be in the big blue stratosphere. Sun grazed and heady. Icarus soaring too close to the sun. Not yet plunged to earth. Melting gold spattered on milk white swan feathers as he tumbled to earth.

Jeff makes a joke about him toking up before school. Eddie reached over and ruffled his hair. Making that demons smile. Rings flashing from his fingers in the meagre sun. “Man, I wish.”

“Got new pills from Rick or something?”

Eddie frowned. “Hell no. Besides. Wouldn’t be wasting those beauties right before first period English class.” He scoffs.

Dustin and Mike share a furtive glance that begs to know what’s up. Dustin mumbles What the shit, man?

He’s finally cracked. I’m calling it.

He didn’t have far to go.

He judders the van along the lot at school. Rumbling tyres over the loose gravel. Head bobbing to the metal as he lurches the wheel and swings into a space.

“Be seeing you. Little hellions. Be free. Give em hell.” He chuckles. Lumping the van into park. Watching them open doors and frown. Scurrying away to class. Gathered close and whispering. Hiking backpack straps up their shoulders and clutching chunky math books and still regarding him like more of an oddity than he actually is.

Of course there is a reason for the golden sunshine visibly sneaking out his pores, and bouncing the soles of his happy feet today. And it’s his wonderful secret.

Eddie shakes his head, and shoulders all his jagged chips and hatred for this place.

The amount of chips he’s got shelved there, worn on his shoulders, about this stunning educational penitentiary, frankly, he could very realistically wear like scales at this point.

He puts a cigarette to his lips and slips around the corner of the lot, jacket and wallet chain clinking as he goes, sneaking to the smokers spot.

A balding patch of grass skimmed to mud, and a graffitied brick wall, snugly hidden around the side of the squat building where some go to steal a quick smoke before class. He usually occupies the spot alone and has to haul ass like a frightened racoon if a teach clocks him.

No sooner had he come within an inch of the corner, cig almost to his lips, and he is yanked around it by a sturdy hand yanking him fully out of view - by his wallet chain. He feels the tug on the denim around his hip, pulling taut.

He wants to yowl and start squirming away from the grip, slinging fists into faces at this ambush. When really he wants to turn tail and leg it in the opposite direction. Flight not fight.

His back collided with graffiti breeze block and before he could turn out his pockets, show them holding lint and nothing else save for a quarter and a D20, screechily proclaim his dispensary is clean out man, back off-

Then some warm lips mould to his.

A gentle artists hand, faded blue polish on the nails, knuckles scraping bricks, is cupping the back of his wild mane and cupping him for a kiss he slowly melts too.

He honest-to-god goes fully boneless with the way you kiss him. The scrappy fight and shock slowly leeches out those gangly poky limbs. Sparks shoot to his fingertips.

He smiles. You can feel his dimples and a cold leathered arm comes folding around your back. The bracelet and the jangle of those zips up his wrists. Settling at the dip of your waist and his fingers slide into the back of belt loop of your jeans.

When you pull back for breath that you’re not sure you want more than him, he has the dopiest grin skated on his face.

“Morning.” You beam finally.

Because that kiss seemed way more important. You can’t help the feeling he instills. Feels like your belly is birthing a wild jungle crammed with winking wings of butterflies. Brilliant blue. Wicked electric yellow. Gossamer pink. They all shimmer.

“Hey hot stuff.” He smiles. Not restraining himself whatsoever.

Oh, they shimmer even more to the sight of that. Mad. Wild. Unhinged.

His cheeks kissed a little pink. He doesn’t even care that he dropped his cigarette in the mud. He’d rather chase the taste of your lips and let that sustain him all morning. Better than pills and nicotine. This static-fizzy-starburst feeling he gets big lungfuls of when around you.

“Didn’t mean to grab you like that. But I must admit that chain is certainly a handy hook.” You flick a fingertip to it. Sway that lolling chain into his thigh. Biting your lower lip in a smile.

He cups one side your face. If anyone got to chew that lip, it’s gonna be him. Leans in to gently smooch you again.

“Goddamn. I was reaching for my attack whistle there, pencils.” He rubs his hand over your hip. Rings chafe against your denim waistband.

“Maybe I was overzealous. But I do have a stunning defence.”

You lean up on tiptoes to smash a polite smooch back to his mouth. He mumbled a curious sound into your lips.

“Which is?” He seeks. Lips chasing yours for more. Even through speaking. Insanity catches.

“I missed you like crazy and it’s been barely 12 hours since I last saw you, and kissed you. And etcetera…” You flirt.

He can see these little delighted pips in your eyes. Like sowed little seeds of pride. The etcetera being all the dirty things you finally got to indulge in last night. Threaded in moonlight at skull rock.

No regrets. He doesn’t see any tint of regret in you.

Seeing that kicks his rocker heart right up to the moon, and sailing on over it. Like those old songs. Moonbeams and old soft tinkling pianos. Ladies with gardenias in their hair crooning about moondance, love and seeing stars.

He gets it now. He totally gets all of that sappy shit.

“I hereby decree that is far too long, and way too stupid of us, actually.” He finishes your thoughts for you. They were symmetrical to his own after all.

“So stupid. We’re just like, a complete pair of morons right now.” You concur. Linking your fingers into his. Standing toe to toe and just drinking in how it feels to be near again.

“So I’m thinking, we should cease all impending stupidity and uh y’know, catch a movie tonight or, grab a bite at Benny’s. Something like that. Anything.” He says. Smile all limned in excitement.

Shaking that big moppish mane of hair as a grin splits his mouth when he speaks, makes him look like an out and out excited little kid.

Fidgeting with your hands and immersing himself in the tactile deliciousness of your hands being held in his. Little touches that stayed with him all night.

Kept bugging him even in dreams he’s sure thoughts of you crept at the oil slick lining of his mind like wing tips of persistent gentle moths. The dusty old ones the colour of sour grey milk. Ones that they get flapping around the trailer porch light at night in balmy summer. The soft blink as they hit the glass shade.

“Burgers at Benny’s sounds so good.” You grin. “Loaded chilli fries?”

He scoffs. “Naturally. I’m not an animal.”

You run your hands through his wild hair. Listen to him talk. Heart entirely bloated with love of this boy. You swear it’s knocking all giddy up against your ribs like some deformed roaming creature seeking release.

“Shall we head out after class? I’ll drive.” He offers. His stomach zig-zags in vicious excitement.

“Catch you after class, handsome.” You grin.

“Ohh, whoa. I never said I was done with you yet.” His eyes flicker with something you think is cheekiness.

Swooping in to slow kiss you for a beat too long. An embrace that makes him hum softly. Makes you mewl. Right at he back of his throat. Lips roaming gentle and soft and your bodies rock together. Gets him cupping your back to keep you near.

“Fuckk gimme another one of those, pencils. I’m not below begging.” Cups your face again. He wants another kiss. Eyes wide as bourbon brown saucers

Chuckling in the muggy space between your smiles, cheeks fired all warm, sharing the same breath, you lean in and give it to him. Giving him the deep messy kiss you’d been craving.

When it’s time to pull back to guzzle air and maybe some reality again, Eddie chases your retreat with his mouth. His lips bruised a stunning cupid pink. Taking a breath that he’s not sure he needs more than he does you.

“Jesus H Christ. How the hell am I gonna even attempt to concentrate today-“ He asks. Voice all raspy and slow gravel.

“What usually stops you?” You sass him. He bites his lip all naughty and softly jabs you right in the stomach; a move designed to tickle.

“Blasphemy. Dear one. I mean, how dare you.” He grins. Chocolate drop eyes all crinkled at their corners. You cover his hand on your stomach, with your own. He likes the soft warm pouch of you there.

It’s tactile. It’s touch. It shoots right to the roof of Eddie’s brain and does something so funky to him he can’t even describe it in words. Actions maybe - Beer on an empty stomach. The first hit of some really silky smooth strain Rick gives him to try. The home made warm sugary scent of that peach cobbler Wayne makes him on his birthday.

They haven’t designed or discovered enough appropriate words to put to this feeling. None that even his whip smart nature can grasp at.

“I’ll soothe that wounded ego and buy you a chocolate shake later if it pleases.” You offer. Tilting your head. Offer placed on the table.

“An ego bruise is a problem I will gladly allow you to throw chocolate and ice cream at.” His fingers worm their way through yours. Knuckles locked. You could do this all day.

“Can be swayed with chocolate. Good to know.”

“And candy. Pizza rolls are good too.”

“Noted.” You beam. Snuggling to his front. Hands still joined. Fused as one.

The sound of the bell ringing for first period is a rude interjection into a morning that’s shaping up to be stellar.

Eddie didn’t seem best pleased by this. Judging by the way he takes advantage of that split second of your distraction hearing the bell, to snatch his hands at your shoulders and loop you round so your back is to the wall instead of his. Sneak attack.

His arm is a leather band over the back of your waist and he gently cups your chin and deepens a silky melting kiss that is, just, so many elements of perfect it should be outlawed that just kissing can be this good.

The plush of his deeply plump lips, with the scraping push of some stubble on his upper lip. It’s delicious. The way he kisses is better than any hit off any joint. You don’t care what he says. Better than purple haze. Better than fucking anything. Backed by sheer dopey sized crushes that take you both, head to toe. Crushes taking on a life of their own. Wearing your skins whole and making you desperate. Make you ache.

You kiss him back. Desperately. Drenched in want. But also knowing that you should be hot-footing it to your first class lest you get a tardy slip. To turn up late, with a very very kiss worn mouth like that would be about as obvious as the nose on your face.

“Eddiii-mmmmm.” You plead to his bewitching mouth. Smoky minty breath and the faintness of his morning coffee on your tastebuds. He’s cupping your face like your some sacred relic he has to handle gently. As if he had corrosive fingertips. Strychnine laced touch.

When he pulls back. Hands two big gangly paws holding your neck, there’s this sweet dazed look all over his expression. Drugged on you. The way you kissed him like his tongue is made out of cherry candy and you only want more- oh lord.

How’s that for irony. The Hawkins High school dealer and here he is getting a huge hit, from kissing you. Nothing that comes pre rolled in a baggie making his mind fuzz like hot molasses, or circled into a wild little chalky pill that makes his head all bright and fuzzy sharp like cotton candy.

Making out before class he can gladly get hooked on. He thinks he’s there already. DT-Ing for more. Make him shake and rattle on all fours like a rabid dog.

“One for the road…” He explains inbetween raspy pants for breath. A silly smile all yours for the keeping.

You pat his chest. He could honestly whimper at the tactile feel of your hand resting on the meat of his pectoral. So dangerously close to skin on skin.

“I better go.” You sigh. A drop kick to your mood to leave him. You take a step back.

He can’t allow that. He whines like a kicked puppy. Button eyes all round and shiny with whatever amount of sadness it would take to root you here, with him.

“Don’t. Pencils. Stay here. Stay uneducated and stupid with me and let’s just make out, all day.” He waggles some filthy intentioned brows at you. Pleading threaded onto his voice. Trying his best to yank you back.

“You could easily tempt me to play hooky any day, Munson. But I’ve been studying for this test all week.” You point out.

“Well. I can’t deny that dorky chicks turn me on.” He sighs nicely. You can’t help smiling.

“Really? I figured tiny pleated little cheerleader skirts and peppy bouncy pom-poms turned you on.” You tease. Voice all sultry.

He leans in and smacks a kiss to the end of your nose.

“Nuh-uh. I like em’ covered in paint and jeans and artsy, and working in record shops with old hippies. And hopelessly in all consuming love with me.” He grins.

“Kiss ass.” You smirk. Smacking a kiss to his cheek. Stepping back. His hand slithers to find yours again. Links fingers. His rings glitter. They’re all warm where he’s been holding hands with you. On you.

“Hey, my girlfriend is a damn fox. This is a hill I’ll die on.”

You bring your joined hands up and kiss the back of his for that.

“Class beckons.” You roll your eyes. Shouldering your bag. Unwilling to unlink hands until you absolutely had too.

“See you at lunch?” You ask. His brows creased. Makes him look like an upset puppy.

“Can’t. Got a drop to make in the woods.”

“Parking lot after school?” He counter offers.

“You bet.” You agree. And you cannot even handle the wait.

You walk away around the corner. Eddies eyes trail over you as you go.

“Enjoy the smoke.” You turn over your shoulder and call back.

He saluted you with a flicking motion, with that million dollar grin pleasured all over his face.

“Brutal babe. You know what I’d enjoy more…” his inflection at the end of his words lets you know what he’s referring too.

“Down boy.” You play as you head off. Smile all secret and wide for him. Grin so wide it makes his heart pulse.

He’s grasping a hand over his mad heart as you slip away. One knee bent up. Sneakered foot flat to the wall behind him.

He reaches for that cigarette and his lighter. Though he doubts this little stick will do any damn thing that kissing you didn’t. He lights up. Grinning. You left his heart thrashing about and kicking inside the shell of his denim and leather like a damn drum in a cramps song.

Way, way across the field, sat high up on the bleachers with some of the girls on the cheer squad. In full view of the back brick wall where you had just been. Supposedly around the corner and concealed from view-

Linda snapped her binder shut. Eyes packed in venom. Huffing as she picked up her books.

Lipsticked lips pursed together in a grim hot pink line. Annoyance fills her chest and rams up against her ribs. Sour in her stomach. Nastiness curdled up on her tongue. She’d seen enough.

You and the freak. Just like Jonny said.

No fucking way.

~

Eddie bapped along to some rock that had been trapped in the lining of his crazy head since this morning. Head bumping as he hummed along, sang under his breath to Rattlehead. That mane flicking every which way.

Metal lunchbox swings from his hand and clatters as he bounced along the familiar route. Feet trained for the way. Leaves cushion his rustling step. He drags his eyes over the foliage spread high above.

Dappled with gold sunshine of the afternoon that chips down. The odd scurry of a bird flapping around the treetops. Nature and the soothing crash of wind lacing through wide apple-green leaves. He darts his eyes around, seeking and searching for the shape of anyone to come crashing through the trees.

He arrived at his little decaying stoop in the woods. The table that’s so carved and scarred with crude drawings and initials it’s chipped and falling to bits. Cig butts littered everywhere and Eddie shamefully admits some of them are most likely his. His place of business is well reputed.

Swinging his leg over the bench seat and slinking himself up onto the table to take a pew. Sneakers resting on the seat. Cause when has he ever approached anything normally, or fallen into doing anything that comes into the category of usual.

He throws the lunchbox lid open with no gilding the lily, and braces his scattered mind into this deal. Shoves through the bags to find the semi-decent stuff. Wave of heady green hits him in the nose as he rummaged and carried on humming to himself.

Though really for the preppy guy who propositioned this drop, he’s tempted to charge way too much for a thin little roll of ditchweed.

Alas, his reputation is too important. One bad sale and he’d never touch profits on it again. He will unwillingly part with some decent sativa for the knucklehead.

He thumbs through his papers and rustling bags and makes a note of exactly what he’ll put his fistful of measly dollars from the sale towards; another date with you.

He’s heard of this great alt store a couple towns over. Super your style. Record store in back, cool clothing, apparantly a rock n roll kinda vibe that you would appreciate. Posters, merch, jewellery, you name it.

He can’t think of a better place to take you for a date. He’s keeping it under wraps even though, god knows, his blabber mouth which runs and rants away from itself, wanted to yell and shriek about it to you nonstop.

How he wanted to scrape together some dollars to buy you something. A handful of punk style patches, a tee, a poster for your bedroom door that needed some anarchy or some goth Siouxsie. Maybe a little Joan and some Blackhearts action.

He’s heard you crank them up on your headphones to blaring when you’re trying to concentrate on a sketch. Like the loudness lifts you out your mind and transcends into the paint.

How he wanted to make a mixtape for you, of all the metal songs - and to his embarrassment some of the less tacky love ballads - that bring you to the forefront of his mind when he hears them. Even some older crooning songs that Wayne likes.

The stuff he was drip-fed on in his early days, sweet and crooning, like slow gold honey melting into his ears. Listening to them and snatching pieces of melody that breezed through the trailer. Warm and sunny to listen to. Softly swaying Don Henley, Woodie Guthrie, and Jim Croce. Even some Ella or some Julie London and her smokiness.

He smiles to himself as he comes to Rattlehead’s chorus. Toes tapping the rotten old bench and creaking the wood, as he scrunches bags aside this way and that to find the pre-rolls. Fingers drum the beats off the side of the tin. Clacking out into the woods.

The brutal snap of a twig makes him peer around.

Eddie swims his eyes through the trees and eventually drags them to find a Jock with his hands shoved in his pockets.

It’s not someone he’s on a first name basis with. He’s lost amongst a sea of sensible jeans and varsity two tones. Sea green and blinding white with the lion gold yellow Hawkins H proudly blazoned on his front.

Crazy how differently they wear their allegiances.

He’s the anti-thesis of Eddies style. Shirt tucked in. Sensible white sneakers that aren’t beat up to shit. Preppy. Hair brushed. Some square jawed Ryan or Chad or whomever, pads towards him.

The look in his eyes twists Eddie’s gut like wet flannel. Scathing.

He’s seen hatred and distain before. Of course. It’s poured very freely his way.

Thats nothing new to him. Distaste. Eye rolls louder than claps of thunder and tutts coming stabbed under breath peppered with nasty words.

This is that crowd at its ugliest. The tribe this guy is happily a part of. Supposed fuckin’ Normalcy. They scar the word ‘Freak’ into him over and over again. Stomp it into his messy maned head over and over with their feet.

Finally he got tired of the brutal raining down kicks and just took it. Weened the power of it. Stole it from them and flipped it. Made it his shield. Propped it up with that DIO patch on his back. Let their hatred sink into that and roll away useless.

Let them know it doesn’t sink down to places where they want it to hurt.

Eddie swallows. Throat suddenly a sticky chasm. Tried to soften the blow and put away whatever the fuck this guy was trying to scowl and throw at him.

“Hey, man. You’re my 1 o’clock right?” He asks. Tapping his knee still and fiddling with his hands.

The guy swerved his jaw before he spoke. “Yeah.” Spine held poker rigid as he answered. Like it offended him to have to be here and talk.

He came into the clearing. Sneakers rustling leaves. Something feels sour about this whole thing.

“Okay. Well- um.” He awkwardly clears his throat. Reaches into the box that he gently sets beside himself. Grabs the joint and fidgets with it for a second.

“It’s uh, it’s twenty bucks for a pre-roll.” Eddie tells him.

“Great.” He watches the guy nod. Curt. His expression steely. Eyes glassy in a way that’s beyond unsettling.

“Ohhhkay.” Eddie nods. Eyes a fraction too pinched at the corners. Concerned frown dragging down his brows. Wondering what the stitch up is. His eyes dart around. Bordering on panic.

He stands to get off the bench, the guy doesn’t so much a muscle to reach across and take the joint off him. Hands still shoved deep in his pockets.

Eddie holds the joint. The guy doesn’t even move to take it.

“It won’t bite man. Smooth as silk and just, hits you like a cool wave when you smoke that puppy. Trust me.”

Something flickers like a sneer across the guys mouth. He looks at the innocuous rolled joint Eddie’s holding out to him. Looks at the brown paper all rolled in his palm.

Eddie shrugs. Wide open. Leather crinkles over the jutting movement of his shoulders.

“You want it or not?” A razor edge starting to creep into his tone.

If this is someone who hasn’t made their mind up, he’s got other places to be. Better times to be had. Than waiting on whether or not the preppy jerk is gonna take the goods off his hands. Or use more than two syllables.

“If you don’t want it. I’ll go right now. Forget it. No hard feelings.” He takes the edge off for him.

Despite the fact that actually a little simmering front of annoyance bubbles at his belly for the guy wasting his free period he could have used to kiss you senseless with wandering hands, right up against the side of his van.

He turns around and throws the joint back into the box. Shaking his head. Making his hair do that wild kicky thing it usually does.

“Maybe you should go. Freak.” Comes spat his way. Drawn in a snarl.

“Whatever, dude.” Eddie puts his back to him. Folds his product back into his box.

More snaps. More rustled leaves. Eddie drifts his eyes up and sees three more guys coming through the woods to the clearing. Walking slowly, picking over nature to come to the bench all menacingly slow. Like he was a deer they were in danger of spooking.

All wearing Hawkins letterman jackets. Sneers writ on all their faces. Intimidation carved into every step they take. They look way too happy to see him here alone.

Suddenly Eddie feels small. Feels like he’s right back in middle school. Being tossed around and bashed up by the bullies. Coming home with stinging scraped knees and a cheek that feels swollen hot, itchy like bloated meat. The crust of dried rust scabbing under his nose.

This feels exactly like that. Some things never change.

“The fuck?” He asks. He won’t lie. His voice wobbles to a croak. Set on shaking sands.

“Where you goin’ loser?” One of them huffs out. Eddie turns his head.

Strutting towards him like the bullshit cover of macho magazine. Or J-Crew, is Barbies boyfriend. The blonde ape.

One of them he doesn’t recognise proudly comes up and slaps the lunchbox out his hands.

Eddie flinches back. Shrinks away. Puts distance between every step they eat up eagerly to come towards him. He doesn’t want this. He doesn’t want whatever’s coming barrelling his way. He hasn’t done anything except sell some reefer.

“Alright. Alright-“ Eddie stumbles back from the table. Hands high and empty. Voice jittery. His head and gut yell in sync - telling him to run the hell outta there.

“Clearly you guys have some sort of agenda I’m not aware of so why don’t we all just-“ His smile is all tremulous and shaky.

A fist drags his collar into a yank. A curled up punch swings into his face and knocks him clean to the ground before he can chew out his next words. His jaw snaps together. Hot pennies comes flooding his tongue where his teeth cut his cheek.

Stars and bursting black galaxies accompany his artless tumble to the ground.

And then some more fists come raining down. A sneakered foot planting square into his side to kick the wind clean out of him.

They leave him crumpled on the ground. Cushioned by rotting dry leaves. Smeared in mud, blood leaking from two places in his face. Spotting down to his dark shirt.

As a parting gift one of them empties his lunchbox over the floor and stomps its contents into the dirt.

He knows the feeling only all too well.

~

You clatter into the bathroom after your last class.

Let the bustle of crowds fall far behind you as everyone rushes to the lot to leave. Afternoon summer sun stripes its sneaking glory across the halls and slants the window ledges in gold.

You cross to the sinks and set your sketchbook crammed with new drawings on the side. Leafs of the paper and all the dried paint crinkling, as it’s wedged partially open by the sheer number of crammed pages all skated on dusty pencil or charcoal.

You’d need to buy another pretty soon. One with thick cloth like paper pages for you to fill up.

You go through new books like running water. Never stop sketching. You’d wanted to take Eddie to the funky art shop you grab your supplies from. You’ve a feeling he’d love seeing the paint sets and the sheer number of spray paints they got.

Creativity seemed to flourish from him. His imagination permanently running wild. Could never stop it. One of your favourite things about him in fact.

He would talk about your sketches. Ask you about them. Ask you what the best paint would be for decorating some new figurines he’s got.

He’d twirl the pen you’re using out your hand and tell you all about the way he’d sit in the library for hours drawing fantasy maps for his campaigns on graft paper. Drawing rolling green islands. Mountain caves with trolls. Boggy muggy swamps with draping trees and hidden dangers. Vast seas with coily sea serpents hiding in the waves.

He’d chat to you about your ideas. The ones you’re struggling with for art class. The things you need to study and learn about. The theory of colours. The use of them all dotted in a Poussin or swirled in a Van Gogh.

You could talk to Eddie about anything. For hours and hours. The mere fact of going to grab a huge greasy meaty junk fest of a dinner with him has you walking on clouds.

You want your evening with him already. It can’t come fast enough. You want salty loaded fries and a cold shake and relentless plush Eddie kisses. You wanna climb into the comfy ratty seat in that tired old van that you love. Listen to whatever blasting metal cassette he’s been humming along to all day.

Hell- even just seeing his whole face light up with a smile as you saunter up to his van. The way he’d look at you - the way he always looks at you - with those big shining brown eyes all haloed in golden sun. Brimming with mirth. Cheeks split wide and crow-eyes all bunched up at the corners in glee.

He burns so bright to see you, it’s like he’s swallowed the sun and stars combined. You feel so lucky to have that.

The way he links his fingers with yours. Lopes your fingers together as one and doesn’t even mind if your all paint spattered or your hands are too dry. Palms all hard from scrubbing off acrylic smudges.

He kisses your fingers and acts like you’re draped in diamonds.

Acts like you weren’t wearing a ribbed worn Henley. A large - borrowed - Berkeley blue varsity sweater knotted around your waist, or your straight worn baggy jeans, cuffed up hems and patched at the knees that you mended. And your truly awful red sneakers that are so beat up with age they’re almost a sad faded pink.

He still looks at you like you’re a holy revelation. Each time.

You heap your bag next to the sinks and scrub the last of the charcoal off your hands. Sticky pink soap making a lot of lather around your fingers as you washed the smudgy grey away from the creases in your knuckles. Watch the way it circles down the drain.

You pull up and dry them with the crinkly paper tissues sat on the side.

Take a second to look back to the mirror. Centred all around the ugly squiggles of old sharpie doodles etched on the walls. Contemplate your reflection.

You smooth the hair away from your forehead. Attempt to neaten some of the crazy fluffy bits that kink down around your ears. Fuss with it for a minute or two. Smudge the charcoal away off your cheek.

“Who you trying to look so nice for-“ Comes a cutting tone from behind you. Tone dredged through revulsion and back out again.

A twist over your shoulder reveals Linda. Stood there in her oversized acid wash denim jacket and too-short purple skirt. Hair all bunched up and piled on her head in a half up style wound with a magenta scrunchie. She stands with one hip cocked. And her eyes are frosty daggers.

Heat licks your spine in the shame that you’d been caught preening. “No one.” You say too quick.

Try and inflect some humour on your voice. “You know I don’t exactly have anyone to preen for.” You lie.

Looking down at your hands as you dry them. Scrubbing water away with damp paper. Crush it into a fist and ball it in the bin when you’re done.

You can feel her stare embedding itself into your skull. Like an engraving. Sharp. Scratch of a knife on hollow bone.

“I saw you with him. So don’t try and come at me with your bullshit.” She spits. Words tired and clipped.

You turn over your shoulder. She stands there seething. Looking as bitchy as she usually does. Pink lips pursed.

“Saw me…” you check.

“Yeah. You and Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson?” She poses the words like they’re offensive. Mocking.

Anger furred the back of your tongue. Like feasting on too much sugar. Or a chalky jagged pill lodging itself in your throat.

“Look. I know you’re like, a lonely little virgin or whatever, and you wanna pop your cherry and all, but there’s way better guys out there to screw-”

Your venom stops her words dead.

“Don’t you fucking dare.” You bite.

You see her face fall into shock at your tone. Snappy and sudden. She looked stunned. As if you’d wheeled around 360 and slapped her.

“Oh my god. Don’t tell me you actually like him? Are you serious?” She gapes like it’s illogical.

“He’s a loser with ratty hair who sells weed and lives in a shit hole trailer park.”

“I do like him. I more than like him. We’re dating.” You tell her with steel. “We’re going out tonight as it happens.”

“I knew you had a screw loose but this is just another level of low. Even for you.” Linda bitches.

“How do you never get tiredwith that constant tirade of shit that spills out your mouth Linda.” You snipe.

She rallies to respond. Scanning you with hard eyes backed with new levels of poison.

“I’m not the one dating the King of the freaks.” She hits at you, real low.

“No. You’re dating a two-bit jockstrap who doesn’t even like you, unless you blow him. At least Eddie wants me for more than my pussy.” You point out.

She swallowed. Eyes glimmer. You know that one bit deep.

“Don’t come crying to me when that trailer park asshole dumps you like a cup of cold poison.”

You shake your head and try to remember how to breathe. Snickering cracks of bones in your throat as you swallow. You want to fly into rage and slam your textbook into her stupid scathing face until it dents one of her precious cheekbones.

“You don’t even know him. None of you do. You don’t even know the first two things about him.” You defend loud.

“I know he’s weird as shit and sells skunk. What a catch.”

You bite your tongue. Plenty of insults about Jonny come crawling to mind.

“How long have you two been-“ She sniffs.

“Couple of weeks now. Since Kyle’s party.” You hurl at her furiously.

Her face fills with an expression you can’t read as everything comes to make sense. Falls into place. Puzzle pieces clicking.

“You’ve been lying to me this whole time.”

“Yeah. And you’re so self centred look how long it’s taken you to even notice or give a shit about what’s happening to me or my life.” You finally say all the things you should have voiced long ago.

“You’re only interested now because you care what other people are gonna say on Monday, and what they’ll gossip about.”

“He’s trouble, and he’s gonna get you hurt. Probably gonna give you a filthy rash or something too.” She sneers. “Lord knows what he’s riddled with.”

“You’re such a fucking bitch.” You grit your teeth. Emotion gets the better of your voice. Tears bubble at your lash line. Red hot.

“Not gonna be my problem to have you trailing round after me anymore. Cause by the way, we are no longer friends.” Linda spits. Eyes narrow to slits.

You nod. Resigned. Tears of anger prick the corners of your eyes. You’re too angry to let them loose.

“What a goddamn relief.” You hit back. Chew your lower lip.

“I’ve had to listen to you bitch at me, and whine and snipe, and moan, for years. I’ve had to endure your tantrums and your cutting comments, and every play-by-play of every unsatisfying Friday night screw around, with your shitty dirtbag of a boyfriend who treats you like garbage. And who you run back to each time he fucks you over. And I’m so sick of you.” Your voice comes out raw.

“So yeah. You’re right. We’re not friends anymore. I don’t think we’ve been that for a very long time.”

You put your back to her and grab your books.

“Don’t let the door hit you in the ass on the way out. Freak.” She sideswipes nastily as you shoulder your way past her.

Catching her on purpose. Shoving her with your shoulder to catch her teetering in those heels.

“Have fun with your trailer trash.” She snips.

“Word of advice. Make sure Jonny wraps it first. Word is he’s been screwing Tina on the cheer squad behind your back every Wednesday.“

You watch her saunter up past you to get to the mirror and touch up her lipstick. Ignore ignore ignore.

Her too sweet Revlon perfume making your stomach roil. She looks at her reflection. The thing she loved most. It’s amazing you ever got a look in. She scrunches up sections of her hair to make it bounce. An indifferent mask on her face.

Trying to ignore you already so the tears don’t come. So what else is new.

You pause at the door. Hand on the handle. Books piled on your arms.

“Sad thing is. I never expected you to act any different when you found out. Turns out you’re just that shallow vain bully I always suspected you to be.”

She pretends not to hear as you slip out the door. You’re sure to slam it as loudly as you can.

Coming out into the partially empty hall. Quickly skating a hand down your cheek. Taking a gulp of a deep breath. Starting down the hallway to come to the doors at the end.

Letting the distance to that girls restroom salvage some of your anger. Let it ebb away and let the savage venom words roll down your skin like blunt razors.

You wait to see if they feel like they’ve drawn any blood.

Maybe just a raking deep black bruise. Perhaps the confrontation has lifted a rock solid weight off your chest. Cut your ties to something corrosive.

You storm to the doors at the end, and push your way out. Into the midsummer air. Afternoon sun washing over you as it creeps it’s golden-fiery way by. Slanting ochre across the parking lot.

A gaggle of people clutched around one of the sticky lunch tables stops you dead in your tracks.

That weight comes crashing back with all the subtle tact and grace of a tank storming a building.

It’s Hellfire. The crowd. It’s Gareth, Mike, Jeff and Henderson. They’re all clutched around someone sat on the bench seat. Someone who is leaning forwards with his elbows resting on his knees. One hand held up to his head.

Your mood plunges even more. There’s a sour shift as some of them twist to look at you.

Big childlike eyes full of something that approaches wariness. Sadness dashed with insecurity. The kid-like uncertainty of how to deal with this very gruesome and very real situation.

A cold can of tab, now warm, for the crescent bruise taking shape around his eye socket.

One of them fishing around in the bottom of their bag for crumpled blue band aids. Anything to help.

A wad of crinkly and loveless paper towels snatched from the boy’s restroom and wadded into a wet lump for the blood pouring under his nose. The fresh red that’s staining his tee like big gruesome poppy petals.

His free hand is wrapped around his side for the bruise he can already feel like a dark cloud of cherry red and blue cobwebbing up his skin and over each slat of his ribs on his left side.

They shuffle away from the table and you finally get to see what they all look so grim about.

Eddie is hunched over with a black eye and a bloodied face and nose. He’s muddy and dirty and scratched up and when he meets your gaze, your world shudders on its axis, to a grinding halt.

The way he’s looking at you shatters your damn heart into huge glassy shards. Diamonds and sprinkles of it, sharp and chunky, cut into your chest. Daggering.

He’s hurt.

He swallows and keeps eye contact. Looks at you with such fear and sorrow emanating from those big round bourbon eyes. You see the apprehension in his body.

It doesn’t get any better when he winced and tries to stand. Body bowing as he slowly eased himself off the bench seat. Hand cupping his ribs as he inched his way to a full stand. You hear him groan.

You see as pain flickers across his face. The usual springy frolicking gait is muted. It’s etched with pain and writ with ache.

He wishes he could read your expression right now. As it is he’s struggling to sort it into one emotion.

You look hurt, tear stained, livid and clenched rigid with something that could only be bone deep anger. Venomous, mind numbing, anger. And it was just bubbling and clawing it’s way to a fever pitch.

“Pencils-“ He wets his lips. Looks meek as he watches you carefully. Tenderness in his voice.

You dump your books where you stand and turn on your heel. Sketchbook cast to the floor and heaped atop your bag. You slam back through the doors and into the school - mind set on one salient thing.

The doors slam not seconds after you. The creaking jolt as the metal crunches back into place. Footprints scatter after you on the lino. The squeak of muddy sneakers. The gusting air of a sigh bred with a wince.

Eddie chases after you with all his might. Hooks his hand to your elbow. Tries his best to stop you.

“Hey. Pencils. Babe. Please, let’s get outta here. Let’s just forget this. I don’t know who it was- I didn’t see them.”

He’s really a terrible liar.

“With all due respect Eddie. I know who did it.” You explain bitterly, as you wander along. His touch turns to a tug on your elbow. Pulling at your shirt.

“Because he’s not smart enough to juggle two thoughts at once, much less try and hide the fact he beat you up. And second his jagged pill of a girlfriend just tore me to strips in the girls restroom for finding out.” You say. Possibly louder than you intended.

His face falls.

“Hey, hey…” He says softly.

You turn back. Tears springing down your cheeks. His hands are all over you. Cupping your neck. Your shoulders. You can smell the blood coming off him. Sour pennies. Desperation laced his voice. Comes off him in waves.

Desperate for you not to to this.

“This isn’t stupid shit to me Eddie. This is not okay. Not something I’m gonna let get brushed under the rug-“ your lip wobbles. You shake your head. You rub your nose. Chase the tickling tears away.

He mimics you. Shaking his own head so his hair flicks out. Eyes wide and terror stroked words pour out his mouth.

“Don’t go getting into trouble for me. I don’t want that for you.” He begs. His eyes are wide with it.

“Good thing I want it then.” You resolve.

He looks apprehensive. Choked by it. Scared by your resolve. He doesn’t want to let you do this. This is a doomsday territory.

“Pencils-“

You continue down the hall. He follows. Still doing everything in his power to convince you, or try to stop you. Credit to him, his list of reasons are pretty excellent.

Babe. Please. It doesn’t have to be a thing.

You’re on track. You have your grades. You got Indie state in your future to think of. I don’t want you jeopardising that for me.

I don’t want you going and getting in trouble for this.

He doesn’t stop you from making your way to the gym. But he is right there at your back as you push open the doors, shove your way inside and you don’t care if your entrance is loud.

The idiot jocks practice in the gym after school. Basketball mostly. Some dotted in the bleechers. Long suffering girlfriends sat with bubblegum pink coloured files, shaping their nails to the side and chatting and trying not to look too bored whilst the guys play. Linda sits chattering to one of the cheerleaders.

You wrinkle your nose at the stench. Whole place smells like musty sweat, floor polish and old socks.

Jonny has his back to you as he dribbled the ball. The ricochet of it pangs across the court.

You race across the floor to him like a hell fury. Fists clenched at your side. Eddie still trying in vain to get between you and your stubborn brain. To try and talk you out of this before it’s way too late.

Your entrance with him hot on your heels and whispering pleas at you, draws laughter and sniggering sneers from some of his dirtbag friends. Shouts come aimed your way.

Hey, look who it is. It’s the freaks.

Closed practice, morons.

Jonny doesn’t turn back but you make your presence known.

“Hey. You dumb fuck stain.”

You march right up to his sweaty back and shove him hard with both hands. Wrinkle that goddamn white basketball jersey.

The guys around him make mocking noises. Chorus of awes and exclamations.

The room slowly dawns quieter. The squeak of shoes muffled. Everyone’s eyes centre court where you stand seething. Panting for breath and trying to look as livid as you felt.

He turns back to you all slow and condescending. Like he’s some golden haired Apollo flouncing down from Mount Olympus to grace you with his presence. He’s limned in sweat and dissects you both with conceited arrogance.

“What’s your damage?” He sarcs. Looking down at you like you’re an ant. Or a mangy mongrel.

He flicks his eyes across and landing on Eddie.

“Munson. How’s them ribs.” He sneers.

You’re about ready to topple over the edge and spit nails. Anger gently creeps to a boil.

“Just peachy, thanks for asking.” Eddie answers. Mouth is a grim line. And his eyes look stern coal black. He turns his attention back to you.

“Pencils please. Let’s just let it go. There’s no point…” He whispers. Standing with his hand gently cupping your forearm.

“What do you want? Teams full. We don’t accept weirdos anyway.” Jonny pushes at the both of you.

“I’m not leaving this spot until you tell me why you attacked my boyfriend.” You steel. Voice low and even.

You can feel Eddie’s eyes on you like lasers. Burning holes in the back of your head.

His mouth gapes a little. If it weren’t for the fact he’s terrified off his ass stood here, his heart would flutter like a fledgling baby birds wings, to hear those words admitted aloud.

“No reason. Just don’t like him.” He shrugs all honesty. Passing the ball over to his friend. Standing with his hands on his hips.

“Careful hefting those big thoughts around. You might hurt yourself.” You fire out.

Your fight with Linda left sharp scalpel words on your tongue and now you ache to use them to their fullest.

He doesn’t look happy. Dark gold hair beading sweat down into his cenote blue eyes. Rigid anger on his frown as he glares at you.

“Linda didn’t like the idea of him being around you. She told us we were teaching him a lesson. To stay away from you. We were protecting you, moron.” He says like it should be obvious.

“How fucking considerate. Your girlfriend couldn’t think her way out of a damn paper bag if she had a map, Jonny.”

You feel Linda’s scowl all the way across the room. The weight those slitted eyes and a bitchy scoff. You know those echoing words found their target. Slammed right into bullseye red making their mark. You hope it truly hurts. As much as she hurt you

“She didn’t reserve the right to presume any fucking thing about me. And not one thing gave you not the right to hurt Eddie. Not under the guise of some macho-stupid ‘protecting-you’ crap.” You snarl.

He bounces the ball. You slam forwards and bat it out scathingly out his hand. Send it rolling away.

More chorus of noises scattered around you both as you stepped toe to toe with the guy who almost towered over you.

“You acted out of pure hatred. So don’t try and dress it up at something else. You useless. shithead.” You insult.

“And what are you going to do about it, freak, huh?” He jabbed. Nostrils flaring. Lips pressed together unattractively thin. Looks like a provoked silverback in his enclosure. About the beat his chest.

He turns to guffaw laughter and sneer with his friends.

When you speak it’s so reed thin it even makes a shiver run up Eddie’s spine. Slices of jagged metal.

And he’s not even on the receiving end of this frightening ire of yours. The one that’s bursting out of you like raw lightning. Like it can’t fathomably contain you. Love and fierce packed rage tight in situ.

“This…” You remark with a clenched fist. Thumb wrapped over your knuckles.

Your nail polish glints blue in the light like steely-inky beetle wings. Your eyes barely smother down live-wires. Danger, danger.

You thought about how they would’ve laughed at him.

Kicked him into the dirt like wet leaves and muck that drifts off the trees in fall.

How they would have laid into him and left him there. On the floor. Blood soaked.

Shown the freak who’s in charge.

It flashes when you rear your arm back. Putting full force into your right shoulder, feet taking a firm stance. You channel everything you have into this fearsome right hook;

You swing your fist straight into Jonnys face.

It’s powerful enough to hear a loud crack, you feel the blow shudder into bone. Catching his nose, which spurts blood.

He recoils and staggers. Knocked off balance. Sound punctured out his mouth. Clutching his bleeding face as red streams drip on his pretty white shoes. Stains his pristine uniform. Good.

Try explaining that one to mommy and daddy dearest.

You don’t even let him swing back around. You grab the shoulder of his disgusting sopping jersey and ball it in your hand. Using that as leverage to drive your knee high - hard - into his balls.

Before you let him slump to the floor in a bleeding pile of sweat glazed limbs. You mutter words just for him to take caution of.

“Come near me or Eddie again, and believe me I will break your goddamn jaw, Lopez.”

You let him crumple this time. Flag to the floor in a heap of collapsing bones and sweaty jock uniform.

He looks up at you, trembling. Blood skirting down his arms and past his cupped palm. Tears streak down his cheeks. You step back and let him crumple.

He’s spitting and snarling crude insults in between wails of pain, and a sticky mouthful that smears his teeth red, and stains his tongue with metal.

“You broke my nose, you crazy fuckin’ bitch.” He spits. It sounds wet. Words sluiced in crimson.

“Finally. A nickname I can warm too.” You scathe.

When you look up, guys around him flinched back a good few paces in case they fell into the category of your rage. Wariness edging their expression. Eyes wide and mouths caught suspended open, like brain dead guppies at feeding time.

Eddie stepped forwards and gently laid his hand on your shaking arm. His fingers urge you closer. Get you following him to haul ass outta there.

You scan the room and find Linda gaping at you just as dumbly as everyone else. She’s risen to a stand. Face like she’s just swallowed a painful poison pill. Apparently in no rush whatsoever to get to her boyfriend.

“It’s ok. I’m done here.” You tell him. Gritting your teeth. Meeting Linda’s eyes.

You turn and walk away. Back to this whole affair Amazed how scarily easy it is. Leaving your supposed friendship in the dust. Bleeding crumpled on that floor.

You feel an enormous sense of relief walking out that gym.

Your hand killing you. No doubt about it. Shooting mad red hot fireworks up and down your forearm. Your knuckles feel like hell. Sparking furious with pain.

You reach for Eddie’s hand anyway. Screw the pain. You slip your fingers into his. Turn and catch his eyes.

He’s watching you with so much cautionary care and concern.

You breathe. Lungs shivering around new calm air. Words come easy but you feel shaky with them.

“C’mon. Let’s go get you something for that eye.”

He agrees with a nod. Then that hopping spark that’s truly skated in usual Munson mischief, comes springing back full force into his eyes. Lovely happy bourbon again.

“Wouldn’t dare refuse you, Pencils. Not after seeing what you’re capable of.” He grins. Nudging you with a shoulder to get a smile out of you.

“Damn right. Those idiots just cost us a date night. He deserved all that and more.”

“Ain’t that the truth.” He smiles. Eyes still stuck on your face.

He lopes alongside you. Hand clutched in yours. Shoulder rolling to yours. It feels whole. It feels like trust.

~

You sit in Eddie’s van in the parking lot of the Fair Mart. Despite your protestations, he fully insisted he was fine to drive. He rolled into park out front just about as the sun began to set.

The night started to pull in. All lilac and periwinkle skies, soft as a vintage eiderdown that made you think of bluebirds feathers as you watched that solemn shade of blue overtake the sky.

Making the all too yellow lights within the dingy place stand out proud. Blinking a little. Humming along with the huge freezers inside. All the twee touches of home made signs telling you about the canned goods on offer. Written on card with flicky show-manly italics. Some easy friendly music sparkles out the speakers.

The plump clerk is smiling and jolly and bubbly bright, even when you unload for a whole armful of some medical supplies on the counter. Eyeing your now purpling knuckles with sparky perception. Ringing things up, you throw in a bag of jolly ranchers and a couple of ice cold cans - they suggest a rattling jar of aspirin.

“Take away the sting, honey.” He wafts a knowing hand. “That’ll be $11.90.”

You pay with a watery smile and walk out with a paper bag full. It crinkles in your arms as you go back to Eddie. Who’s sat with his legs dangling out the driver side of his van. Fidgeting with his rings all skittish. Legs swinging to an invisible tune. Still Rattlehead, actually.

You’re the only people in the place. Talk about lulled and sleepy Hawkins. This clearly isn’t a place for two teenagers on a Friday night. They’re all off sucking face at the quarry or skull rock. Or gathering at the arcade.

You come back and get to work cleaning him up.

Lump the bag down beside him, close to his hip, and you stand between his spread legs. Hand fiddling with your belt loop so carefully. He feels you gently brush sweeps of his bangs off his forehead to get at his skin and smudge away a bit of dirt. He lets you. Sat there and losing himself in his gazing.

He winced a little when you gently dabbed some antiseptic cream on the cut at his cheek.

“There’s Jolly ranchers in there you know.” You supply.

“Is that a bribe for me to sit still?” He checks. “Cause it will definitely work.” He dives his hand into the crinkly paper and searches for the candy. He finds one and holds it in his palm until you’re done.

“Who, um.” He swallows. Looking too intently at his ripped jean kneecap. “Who taught you how to—“

You draw back and let him find his words. Let him come to you with it.

“Who taught me how to throw a punch?” You smile.

Still dabbing his cheek. Fingers slipped under his chin and tilting his head up to you. When he could stay still enough.

“My sister. She bought me self defence lessons after-“ The words die and wither up all grey and ashen in your mouth.

You break eye contact for a second and rub at your brow.

It slowly creeps over his head like some dreadful tide. After what?-

Eddie knows he doesn’t like the look settling over your features. One bit. He doesn’t care for it at all.

“It was the summer before junior year. Around the time Linda and Jonny started dating. We went to this party. She didn’t want to go alone so I was roped in. Dressed me in one of her stupid mini skirts, planned to set me up with one of his buddies, Alex.” You pause and chew over the words.

“It was stupid as shit, looking back now, but we got so stupid drunk. Teen freedoms and lite beer. We thought we were so cool. So much so I didn’t notice that my drink was spiked with something. I don’t even know what. All I can remember is just, blackness, and then waking up with Alex sliding his hand up my skirt.”

Eddie blinks. Shuts his eyes for a second. His voice sounds so far away. “Shit. Pencils.” He rasps. Upset and angry on your behalf. He looks more hurt than all those bruises scattering his face.

“Nothing else happened. I screamed blue murder, and shoved him off me and just turned tail and got the hell out of dodge. Walked miles home in heels til I got blisters all over. Charlie was so so pissed. First time I’ve ever seen my Mom go full apocalyptic angry.” You explain.

“She wanted to bring charges but Alex’s family lived on Loch Nora, and his dad was a bigwig in local council so naturally he just chalked it up to underage kids having too much drink and touting it around town that a ‘misunderstanding’ occurred. Transferred their golden boy to a private school. And it just got, quietly swept away.” You accept.

All the pieces slowly floated and formed together to clarity in Eddie’s head.

“Linda stayed with Jonny even after all that shit you went through…” He asks. You nod.

“Stuck like glue.” You infer.

He can’t stand it any longer. wraps his arms around you fully and tugs you into a bold hug. Burying his face in your chest. Listening to the tick of your heart, and feeling you hold him back. Smiling and pressing a kiss to the wild nest of his hair. He smelled like sour-sweet green apple shampoo and earthy papery leaves.

“I’m so sorry.” He rumbled into your arm. His hug says so much more than that.

I’m here and I’m not leaving. Whatever you need - I’ll give it. Carve it out of my chest because you own every piece of me - in full.

“Not your fault, Eddie. I stopped being mad a while ago.” You tell him. Pressing another kiss to his head.

That’s why he’d been so unsuccessful in being able to stop you today. Because you’d let one bout of assault go, like hell were you about to let that happen all over again. And not to him. Drew some blood of your own to partially settle an old debt. To quiet some old violent ghosts.

He lets go of you and plonks the red wrapped jolly rancher in your right hand.

“I think you need and deserve this more than I do. And I’ll keep on being mad on your behalf - if that’s ok.” He says honestly. Fingers slithering through yours. He twists your hand over and sees the bruises wrapping around your knuckles.

You smile.

“I’ll take that.” You answer in reply to his offer. “The candy and that kind offer.”

Cause this is exactly what you need. Him. Him in all his unusual and funky glory.

Metal head with a heart so pure you’re actually certain it is made of solid gold. He whom proclaims to the world he’s nothing but a devil worshipping Satanist, made up of cynical death metal, and pot smoke.

Yet, he’s the guy who puts wrapped candy in your hand. Plies you with kisses and tried to hard to keep you out of tumbling headlong into trouble for his sake. Wanted to take you for a greasy burger and just share every silent soaked moment with you. No matter what you’re doing as long as you’re shoulder to shoulder.

He’s springing up before you can stop him. Sits you in the seat he occupied and told you firmly to ‘wait here, toots.’

Then, he’s scampering across the grocery store lot all jangly jacket and mad frizzy rocker hair bouncing as he goes. The soft pad of his feet on the doormat and the swish of the door he pushes open.

He drifts around the aisle for a few minutes before you see the top of his head bounce as he jaunts to the checkout and pay with a load of coins and a crumpled bill dug out his pocket.

He’s out the doors and whirling back to you in no time at all.

Hand on his ribs as he winced and realised that moving around all silly like he normally does would have its consequences. Ode to a bruise.

He comes over and crouched in front of you. Proudly showing you his purchases. He holds them up like he’s won an award.

bag of frozen peas and a tub of mint chocolate chip ice cream.

“For you, my most dangerous slash badass weirdo.” He grins. Even under that black eye, and the cut limned with purple across the bridge of that nose, his brightness and joy is infectious.

He takes your hand and you smile as he settles the peas on it. Settles his hand on top of it and stays crouched. Looking up at you with literal stars in his eyes.

You’re hit with such a fierce wave of love it shocks you from the inside out. Punching into your ribs and mangling and mashing your heart and lungs together with something that burns all mean like static. Words trip off your tongue like a smudge of sugar. You feel drunk on them; fever and maddening realisation in a shockwave.

You put your hand over his. Ice cold and shifting crunch on the bag.

“Eddie, you’re free tonight right?”

“Well the beauty pageant will have to take a hike with these shiners.” He plays. Tilts his head.

“What would you say if I asked you to spend the night?” You check.

His brain seems to crunch and churn through the cogs to answer.

“The night?” His eyebrows almost swoop up and disappear into his bangs.

“Not sure your mom would be too wild about that.” He says.

“She’s in San Francisco. Short haul. Not back til Monday.”

“Oh.” Eddie nods. And then it hits him.

“O h.”

You keep eye contact and smile. “I'm game. What’s say you, Munson?”

“Holy shit. Pencils.” He wets his lips. Grinning.

~

T A G S darlings

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