#i just feel lonely today and i want soft eddie

[indouloureux]

what about soft sex with eddie *waves hand* hello i want one

[somnambulic-thing]

page 622 read on ao3

Eddie Munson x afab!reader E +18

summary: It's the middle of the night and you just can't find sleep. Eddie wants to help. He wants to help so bad.

Words: 3k

||reader has insomnia, smut, fluff, pinch of angst, LOTR references, domestic, nerds in love||

A/N: This is for all of us who haunt the nights. <3

Page 622 is graced with not one, but two dog ears.

That’s nothing unusual for the thick heavy paperback in your hands. A copy of The Lord of the Rings, all three parts united in one book and littered with battle scars like a gnarly old Orc of Mordor.

It belongs to both of you, bought on that whimsical fleamarket by the side of the road with spare change collected from the nooks and crannies of the van. It hadn’t mattered that you already owned a box set each, it had been clear that this book wanted to go home with you. Once integrated into your shared collection, it became the copy that was pulled out when Eddie and you had an argument about the most minuscule details to settle. It wasn’t a rare occasion that someone got tackled before they could claim victory over the matter. That brave book had been ripped from victorious hands more times than you could count and flung over shoulders, into corners or behind furniture.

It was also the copy Eddie used to ponder ideas. When he was writing a campaign and the atmosphere he was eager to create didn’t feel quite right, he would go down into the Mines of Moria or deep into the thicket of Fangorn forest and seek inspiration between the lines. There he left marks with the heavy tip of his pencil, elbows catching on the edges of pages as he reached for his notebook, creating new dogears, sometimes small tears.

You loved those marks and never grew tired of discovering fresh traces of his adventures. They kept you company on those days you wouldn’t get tired at all.

The world between the worn covers was familiar, the motions of the adventures committed to memory in many places, the adventurers friends that comforted you on restless nights.

You chose this copy over the others you own because it’s an intimate object, because you could trust it to catch you should you fall asleep on its pages, trust it to be more beautiful in the morning with more kinks and wrinkles.

But there were days when even the unhastiness of Treebeard wouldn’t do the trick to coax you into slumber. Today was such a day; stuck on the sofa on a dark, restless sea and no sleep in sight.

You hadn’t heard him coming.

“Just flopped around the mattress like a fish out of water looking for you.”

Eddie’s voice is deep and raspy and a little cranky around the edges. Your eyes shift from page 622 to where he stands in the doorframe, all tousled hair and sleepy eyes. There are lines on his right cheek, a shallow relief in the mirror image of his pillowcase. His boxers sit dangerously low on his hips and it tickles in your fingertips to follow the trail of soft hair and tuck them further down.

“That’s an amusing image,” you say with a smile as Eddie rubs one eye with his flat hand, nose scrunched up and wrinkly. “Can you demonstrate that to me?”

“Do not mock me. I awoke all cold and lonely…” he waves the other hand through the air. “Forsaken by my love.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, the mirth in your tone slipping just slightly, but Eddie catches it.

“How long have you been up?” he asks, banter put aside in exchange for worry and makes his way over to the nest of blankets and pillows you’d made on the sofa.

You frown, not sure you know the answer to that question, feeling like you’ve fallen out of the stream of time; trapped in endless night, doomed to read the same three sentences on page 622 again and again with nothing but your thoughts for company. Until now.

You turn to check the thin green digital numbers on the VHS recorder while Eddie lowers himself to the ground in front of you. “Almost two hours.”

“That’s no good,” he says softly and fumbles with the blanket draped over your legs in search of your skin, nudging the book off balance. It slides down your lap with a soft rustle. Dark, heavy eyes search your face for clues he knows you’re reluctant to give him and a warm palm finds your thigh moments later, an epicentre for violent goosebumps. You shiver and he smiles. “What can I do?”

“Nothing—“

“You underestimate my relaxing properties.” He places a kiss on your knee. “It’s pretty annoying, actually.”

You shake your head. “Don’t want to keep you up—“

“Want me to take over the reading? You just rest and listen—” He lowers his voice to a soft rumble. “—let me hypnotize you.”

“You really don’t have to—“

“Shhh… would you please just let me help?” Without waiting for an answer, Eddie slides the blanket off your thigh and covers it in soft, slow kisses.

“Can’t—“ kiss “go—“ kiss “back to sleep—“ kiss kiss “knowing—“ kiss “you’re out here alone. Suffering.”

His hair is soft between your fingers. You loosen a few small knots while you rake your nails over his scalp.

“Eddie… I…”

It’s exhausting being a ghost, to haunt the wee hours of the night unable to find rest. It was also lonely. There was a hazy barrier isolating you from the people around you. From the man whose company you craved so much but struggled to accept in this circle of hell.

Eddie has had his fair share of sleepless nights, had done plenty of haunting himself; but not like this, not without a trackable cause that offered some degree of sense. And you’d never wish this on him no matter how lonely you get, but sometimes, you find yourself envying him for the way he just falls asleep on any surface most days and with the envy, there comes resentment. The disconnect between resentment and longing a rope binding your hands behind your back, keeping you from reaching out.

Dark eyes are staring holes into your body as Eddie is waiting for you to continue, to give him something.

“You what, sweetheart?” He’s rubbing circles into your skin. “You want me to leave? Like, actually?”

“I don’t want to take my mood out on you…”

“Why not?” he grins. “We could make it fun. Tire you out, air out some of that—“ his hands leave your legs to gesture wildly through the air. The cold creeping in where his warm palms had just rested feels unbearably cruel. You don’t want him to leave. “— some of that pent-up… whatever it is.”

“Okay.”

Eddie’s brows vanish under tousled bangs. “Okay? Shit, I had this whole speech planned about how we’re a team and that you’re being so stubborn is a waste of time—”

“You complaining?”

“No… no…” he smiles and runs his hands up your thighs. “So, you wanna be a little… mean to me?”

“No,” you breathe out. “Don’t want that.”

He hums and nods, leans down and licks your skin; from your knee right up to the hem of your shorts. It’s the slightest touch, just the tip of his tongue, but the sensation sinks into your body like warm summer rain falling onto dry and dusty ground.

“Let me love you,” he mumbles against your thigh, running the tip of his nose along the border of fabric you hide behind. “I hate it when you feel lonely while I’m right here and fucking crazy about you…”

“You’re right here,” you repeat like in a trance. Eddie looks up at you, so soft and wild at the same time and so sincere and you feel the last layer of resistance melt as if it had never existed.

“Right fucking here.”

“Fuck me.”

Warm gentle hands begin to free your legs from the tangle of blankets and you marvel at how much of Eddie’s essence resides in his touch; soft but rough around the edges where his fingertips have put on tough skin over the years. There’s so much love, so much passion lingering in those points where you end and he begins.

Accompanied by the soft rustling of fabric, Eddie runs those storytelling hands up and down your thighs, from the inside to the outside and up to the round of your ass where he ever so slightly puts his nails against your skin and runs them down down down to the back of your knees where he holds on and pulls you further down the cushion. You yelp a little and then you both laugh a little and you lift your hips to aid him rid you of your shorts and underwear.

“M’ gonna try a thing,” he says and spreads your legs just wide enough to fit in between.

“Try w-what?” you ask around a hitching breath as you watch Eddie slide two fingers into his mouth. They glisten with spit when he pulls them out and you can hear a few drops hit the floor as he lowers himself down.

“You know how I sometimes take ice-cold showers to shock spiralling thoughts out of my mind?”

“I… what? AH!”

One long finger enters you swiftly, moves in-out-in-out and is joined by the other. Heat expands like a shockwave through your pelvis as all the blood rushes to greet the pads of Eddie’s fingers. He moves with precision in quick pulsing motions against that soft erogenous spot deep inside you, watching you closely.

“Good?”

“Y-yeah.”

“Not too much?”

“No,” you grit out as your hips start to twitch.

There is no smug little smile, no told-you-so grin, only deep concentration and a bright red blush high on his cheeks and you desperately wish he’d kiss you. That thought is gone and forgotten as that penetrating pulse quickens, deepens and Eddie’s mouth inches closer and closer to your clit. There’s a sharp tingling in your cunt, not quite a sting, not quite pain and it’s hot and delicious and as it spreads out into every corner of your body, the world gets smaller and smaller, shrinks countless miles each second until this sofa is the only place left in the universe.

“Holy shit, holy shit, those noises, sweetheart.”

You can’t hear a thing over the rush in your ears and as Eddie’s lips close around your confused, prickling clit, your eyes roll up and close.

And for an infinite moment, there’s nothing left but ecstasy.

When time starts up again, you’re re-entering the world shaking and gasping. Eddie is quick on his knees. One hand closing around your wrist and the other pressed into your back he pulls you into an embrace that you collapse into like a dying star.

“I love you I love you I love you…” he whispers into your hair and holds you holds you holds you until you feel solid again. “You good?”

You nod and hum.

Hands find your face and guide you up and you remember how badly you need a kiss when Eddie’s lips form pretty words so close to yours. “Now, let me take you to bed and—“ You interrupt him, pressing your mouth to his with desperate, sloppy urgency. He chuckles softly, catching your lower lip with his teeth for a gentle tug before he pulls away.

“Come on,” he kisses the corner of your mouth. “Really wanna continue this.”

“Can’t move… you broke me.”

“Oh, well, pretty sure you broke my fingers with your pussy so we’re even. Get up.”

You laugh and reach for the hand cupping your left cheek; you kiss the palm, run your tongue along his fingers and kiss the tips. “Better?”

Eddie’s brows shoot up and he takes a sharp breath. “Bedroom!”

He scrambles to his feet and pulls you with him. In motion like that, you can feel drowsiness settling in, slowly taking hold of your muscles. Your legs still feel shaky, almost heavy, and Eddie wraps an arm around your waist for the moment it takes you to steady yourself.

“Looks like it’s working,” he says softly.

“Feels like it, too.”

Finally, there is the smug smile you have been waiting for. “And it took me less than two minutes. ”

“You… checked the time?”

“For science,” he says proudly and the smile turns into a grin.

“Ah, science. Alright, Doc,” you reach down, hook a finger into the waistband of his boxers and let it snap. “I’m ready for the next experiment.”

Eddie tilts his head, narrows his sleepy eyes and hums. You can hear the cogs in his mind take up speed and then he sidesteps you and begins to rummage through the mess of blankets and pillows on the sofa.

“What are you doing?”

“Just a sec, you gave me an idea— ha!” He whirls around and shoves The Lord Of The Rings into your hands. Your reaction is tardy and you feel the cover catch on your thumb and bend in a way that probably leaves a crease but you have not time to check because Eddie is quickly maneuvring you to the bedroom.

He sits you down on the bed and swiftly pulls your shirt over your head and you have no choice but to let go of the book. It drops somewhere on the mattress and out of your mind when Eddie flicks on the bedside lamp and strips out of his boxers.

“Never gets old”, you marvel at the sight of him, pale and lean but soft and the smile you just conjured with those words seems nothing short of diabolical with the way the light catches his features from below.

You recede onto the mattress and he follows you like you’re magnetic, crawling after you until he’s back between your legs, kissing his way up your body, taking his time to caress your breasts with his hands and lips. Only when you yawn he stops and comes up to face you, to kiss you and you drink in the sigh of relief that he places inside your mouth as he slides his hard cock against your folds, you hold on to goosebump-covered shoulders as he pushes inside you.

“Never gets old,” he moans as he rolls his hips against you in deep, slow thrusts and kisses your nose when you have to giggle.

You’re not chasing ecstasy now, but wholeness, you’re not searching for a high, but for refuge. All your thoughts slow down while Eddie occupies all your senses.

“How do you feel?” he asks into the soft spot below your ear.

“Good… Sleepy.”

“M’ not saying I told you so—“

A chuckle tickles your skin and suddenly, a bolt of guilt and fear flashes through you. “But we can’t do this every time—“

“Hey!” He lifts his head to look at you, presses a finger to your lips. “Shhh… Don’t go there,” he says and puts his forehead to yours. “Come back… come back to me. I got you.”

“I’m here.”

“You just have to let me in…” He kisses you like he’s sacred you could vanish from beneath him and you swear you can feel his heartbeat reach out for yours, swear you can feel it pound against your chest like it’s begging for entry.

“M’ sorry,” you whisper and sling your arms around his shoulders. “I’m trying.”

And then he moves, slowly pulling his cock from inside you—

“Eddie?”

and stretches long across the bed to grab the book right off the edge.

“On your side,” he instructs and manhandles you into position before you can comply on your own and slides back into your cunt before you can process what’s happening.

“Fuck… oh fuck…” you moan as quick deep thrusts hit just the right spot over and over. You can hear the rustling of pages behind you and Eddie’s chest retreats from your back. “W-what are y- ah you…?”

‘It was not much more than a tall man’s height now…’  he reads the first line from page 622. You try to turn to look at him but he pushes you back. “Nu-uh, relax. M’ going to read to you and I’m going to fuck you till you pass out and maybe then you’ll think of waking me sooner the next time you pick up this book in the dead of night.”

You moan and laugh and there are tears in the corner of your eyes. “You trying to condition me?”

There’s no answer, he just keeps reading; shakily, punctuated in the quick rhythm of his thrusts and laced with moans of his own. You just close your eyes and let go and soon enough you’re close to the edge again.

’We are famisshed, yes famisshed we are, precious,…” he croaks in a toned down, breathy Gollum impression that’s highly confusing and you clutch the sheet, pulling it loose.

“Shit… you gonna make me come…”

After a few more lines he stops reading and you hear the book drop. Eddie presses close to you, softly bites your shoulder while a hand wanders down between your legs to play with your clit.

‘Yess, yess, nice water,’ said Gollum,’ he continues from memory.

“Oh, you asshole,” you groan.

‘Drink it, drink it, while we can! But what is it they’ve got, precious? Is it crunchable? Is it… tasty?’

One strangled moan falls from your mouth and then your insides tense violently. Eddie mercilessly fucks you through it and beyond and doesn’t slow down until he coaxes another orgasm out of you. He follows you this time. You feel him pulse and twitch deep inside of you, feel his hot breath on your shoulder and neck and one stray tear escape the corner of your eye. It runs down the side of your nose while you listen to both your mismatched breathing slow down again.

“I fucking love you,” you babble groggily. “So much… so much…”

Eddie places a kiss on the back of your head and picks the book back up, resuming where he left off. He stays inside you while he softens until he slips out. The distinction between characters fades, the gaps between words grow longer but you barely register it; it’s the sound of his voice that pulls you under into the depths of Morpheus’ realm and you’re finally ready to descend completely…

‘Look here!’ Sam whispered to Frodo, not too softly: he did not really care whether Gollum heard him or not. ‘We’ve got to get some Sleep—' Eddie pauses. “Precious? You asleep?”

Your slow, even breathing is all the answer he gets. He carefully reaches over you and drops the book on the mattress before he turns off the light and wraps his arm around you.

“Gonna find you in my dreams,” he whispers into your shoulder and follows you into sleep.

[imfinereallyy]

celebrate softly

it my birthday today so here’s a lil gift from me to you (yes I know that’s not how this works haha) I made a bunch of little things is celebration, i probably won’t post these till later in the day so sorry if you get a bunch at once.

Steve wanted to like his birthday.

No, really, he truly did. He knew that birthdays were the one time of year you get to be a little selfish. The people you loved gathered around you to celebrate another year of you.

It was just that Steve was also used to disappointment.

Over the years, his birthday has consisted of either his parents parading him around at business dinners or the empty silence of a house that wasn’t ever a home.

His old friends were never around. It was a holiday weekend; he didn’t expect them to stick around. Even if they had, Steve was almost sure they would have made him throw a party, where they would have pressured him to get drunk and sleep with someone, and…

Yea, Steve wasn’t interested.

The one birthday he spent with Nancy had been okay. She had to go on a family trip, her parents attempt at getting their kids to cheer up over the loss of their friends, and she was going to leave the morning of his birthday. But at midnight of July 2nd, she had snuck into his window even though she could have walked through the front door. Nancy had brought him a cupcake, a small present, and a soft smile. Steve had wanted to kiss her, but he knew it wasn’t what she wanted then. He wanted to be respectful, so he held her hand instead.

Nancy hadn’t brought a candle, said she didn’t want to risk burning the Harrington Household down. Steve had laughed, saying that would be the best birthday present ever, but she hadn’t laughed back.

The present had been a book. Which wasn’t a terrible gift per se, Steve liked reading it was just he had difficulty doing it. He couldn’t focus long enough, or he would have to reread sentences over and over again.

It just didn’t feel worth the frustration.

But it was sweet of her to get him something, so he tried reading it. It took him months to finish it, even though it was small. It was boring, and Steve had found the main character whiny, and Steve had begun to wonder if Nancy was trying to tell him something.

Then the Upside Down round two had happened, Steve got his ass kicked again and learned that Catcher in the Rye was Jonathan’s favorite book.

Steve had thrown out the book amongst his bloody bandages.

Steve was only slightly hopeful to have a good birthday last year. He had good friends (sure, one was his ex, and the other were children, but he still counted them); Dustin would be home from camp, and even though he had work, he got to spend the whole day bothering Robin, which brought him a special kind of joy.

But then they were cracking Russian code, getting tortured, and watching Max’s Stepbrother die, all within the days of his birthday.

So Steve didn’t have high expectations this year. Sure, people knew it was his birthday, it was hard to hide when he was friends with the nosiest people, but most of them were spending the entire weekend staying with Max, and he would have been too if Max hadn’t thrown a remote at him when he suggested it.

So Steve had conceded to having a quiet but lonely July 2nd.

But then at 7 am there was a knock on his front door.

A knock was putting it lightly, there was pounding echoing in the Harrington Household.

When Steve walked up to the door, he was prepared to drive away some bigots who had been trying to “repent Hawkins.” They had been going around the richer neighborhoods recently, saying we needed to clean up the streets of the sinners and the queers.

Yea, they were knocking on the wrong door.

Steve hadn’t expect Eddie Munson, notorious night owl, to be crowding his doorway at 7 am.

“Harrington, have I ever told you how absolutely ugly your house is? Like for how wealthy your parents are, they chose an absolute nightmare of a layout! It makes no sense.” Eddie budged his way past Steve with his arms full of bags.

“I’ve been telling him that for a year, Eddie, and every time he just shrugs!” Steve turned to find Robin bullying her way through him as well. She had a handful of videos in her hands.

“Sure, come in, I guess,” Steve mumbled. He shut the door and turned toward his intruders. “Not that I don’t love a surprise appearance at—“ Steve checked his watch “—7:03 am, but is there a reason why you are awake before the birds are even chirping?”

Eddie snorted and just gave him a look instead of answering. Robin shook her head, “What doofus hear is trying to convey with a noise, Jesus Eds, I know you’re not a morning, but words please, is that we are obviously here for your birthday. You, Steven Alison Harrington—“

“Not my middle name.”

“—we’re born at exactly 7:07 am on July 2nd. So we had to be here to say happy birthday officially!”

“How do you even know the time? I don’t even know that.”

“She snuck a look at your file last time Owen’s was in town.” Eddie smirked.

Robin hit him upside the head, “Don’t tell him that asshole, he already thinks I’m crazy enough. And don’t act like this wasn’t your idea!”

Eddie rubbed the back his head in dramatic fashion then yelled, “Snitch!” through hissed teeth.

Steve felt himself unthaw at the idea that these two weirdos woke up this early for him. “Ah, well, thanks, guys.” A blush rose on his cheeks, “Well, thanks for stopping by; you guys can go home and sleep if you want.”

“Stevie, did you think we brought all this to just leave? On your birthday. Oh no, no, no. We are having a whole movie and snack day! I brought weed, and chips, and we can order a pizza later in the day. And just be lazy weirdos in your fancy living room.” Eddie hopped up on his coffee table, startling a laugh from Steve.

“That sounds like a typically Friday for us, what’s so special about it?” Steve teased.

“Well we brought all of your favorite movies! Grease, Top Gun, Karate Kid, Indiana Jones...wait I think I'm noticing a theme here—“

“Robin!” Steve screeched, his blush coming back with vengeance. He didn’t want her to reveal there very obvious, and embarrassing pattern to his favorite films.

“And!” Eddie said from atop his place on the coffee table, unfazed by the two of them, “We are paying for the pizza.” His voice oozed with pride at that. Steve was sure he had come up with the idea.

“Wow I’m a spoiled prince. Maybe ever think I wanted to stay in bed?” Steve raised a single eyebrow.

“Oh but my sweet prince, we know you rather spend this glorious day with us.” Eddie was confident, with confidence came the damn nicknames, and Jesus Christ—this blush of his was never going away. “Besides what else could you wish for!”

A kiss from you. Steve thought quickly.

Steve sighed deeply before saying, “Alright. Get down.”

Eddie seemed taken aback, like he hadn’t expected the rejection. “Oh yea man, of course. We will get out of your hair.” He scrambled off the table.

Steve giggled, “No Eds. I’m moving the coffee table. This couch is a pullout. We can all just lay on it while we watch movies.”

Eddie’s face lit up while Robin yelled, “Oh thank god, I’m exhausted.”

An hour later, when the sun was still barely risen and Grease blared in the background, Robin was bundled up in the blankets they dragged from his room, out like a light.

Eddie and Steve huddled close, but didn’t touch. The anticipation and want sat between them. “I actually have something for you.” Eddie whispered.

Robin snored beside them; Steve looked at her fondly. “You don’t have to whisper; she’s a heavy sleeper. Learned that the hard way.”

“Ah well, I have a present for you.”

Steve knows he should say that Eddie shouldn’t have, or insist he returns it. He knew it was the polite thing to do. He couldn’t find it in himself to do it, though. The idea that Eddie even thought to get him something beyond the amazing day they had planned (truly Steve couldn’t ask for a better day), but Eddie had spent his time to get something for Steve.

It was nice to have someone who would do something nice for you just because they can, not because they should. So, Steve waited patiently as Eddie reached into his bag beside the couch.

“Here.” Eddie spoke, placing the roughly wrapped package in his lap.

There was a tiny notecard with Eddie’s chicken scratch on it; Steve decided to read that first.

Stevie,

No adventure is the same without you, and this is the only one I have taken without you by my side. Thought it was about time we changed that. Hopefully we are not forever partners in crime (we’ve had enough of that) but instead, adventurers taking on then great unknown.

Together.

Yours,

Eddie Munson ッ

Steve smoothed over the card and tried not to cry. The poorly drawn smiley face stared up at him from the piece of parchment. Steve tucked it into his pocket for safe keeping; he might even frame it.

Eddie looked at Steve eagerly as he tried to open the package. He does it slowly to tease Eddie; his frustrated little growl made butterflies in Steve’s stomach.

Inside the package is a worn-out book, one he would recognize anywhere, considering he saw it every day on Eddie’s bookshelf. “Eds, this is your copy of Lord of the Rings. I can’t take this.”

Eddie put his hair in front of his mouth, suddenly shy, “Well, it wouldn’t be exactly yours. It’s just I thought it would be fun to, ya know, read it together? Like we take turns reading to each other. I know the kids always bug you to read it, and I noticed that it’s hard for you to focus sometimes, and I get that, so it might be easier if we like make it a thing? I know it’s probably not your interest; it’s my favorite book, not yours, so you know what? This is stupid—“

Steve cut him off by pulling him into a hug. Steve buried himself into Eddie’s neck before saying, “Thank you. It’s the best birthday present.”

“Really?” Eddie pulled back to look at Steve’s face. Whatever he found there must settle him, because he relaxed his shoulders. “I know it’s silly, but I guess I wanted to share this piece of myself with you…and maybe spend some more time together.”

Steve didn’t mention how they spent almost every day together, didn’t think he had to either. They both knew.

Steve decided to be bold instead. He pushed Eddie back into the couch and settled his back into Eddie’s chest. He snuggled into the warmth of his arms.

Steve put the book in Eddie’s hand. “Okay, you read first.”

Eddie laughed; Steve could feel the vibrations from under his skin. It was delightful; it was delicious. “Oh, you want to start now?”

Steve made an indignant noise while Eddie laughed again at him. His hands settled at the back of Steve’s neck as he played with hair that brushed it.

“When Mr Bilbo Baggins of Bag End announced that he would shortly be celebrating his eleventyifirst birthday with a party of special magnificence, there was …”

And once again, hours later, when Steve woke up, after drifting to Eddie’s soft, deep voice, Steve felt something settle in him. He felt Eddie lightly snoring beneath him, one hand still tangled in his hair. He felt Robin’s hand wrapped around his ankle, grounding the both of them. And there, between all of them, was the fallen book with no bookmark, signaling they would have to start again.

Maybe, sometimes. Steve thinks, birthdays could be good.

***

projecting. projecting. projecting. that’s me.

I hope you guys liked this one :) I did use my own bday for him, but the time he was born at is different than mine lol. I had a lot of fun writing it, it was just the softness I needed.

[ghosttotheparty]

lonely with you

part two also on ao3 cw: alcohol; weed; panic attack; nsfw

“Hey, uhm. Can we talk for a minute?”

Eddie pauses as he rummages through his bag, crouched on the floor as he shoves the worksheet he just got to the bottom of his bag. (He’ll probably forget about it. Again.) He looks up to find Steve Harrington standing over him, looking down at him with an almost anxious look in his eye.

“Uh.” Eddie pauses, looking him up and down. “Sure?”

“Like…”

Steve gestures with a tilt of his chin down the hall, toward the bathroom. Eddie glances down the hall, his hand still in his bag, and then he nods, zipping his bag up and tossing it over his shoulder as he follows him down the hall.

Steve’s hair moves while he walks, almost bouncing with each step. It’s shiny. It’s so much healthier than Eddie’s is. It looks soft.

Eddie pushes the thought away as the door shuts behind them as Steve turns to look at him after checking to make sure there’s no one in the stalls. His arms are crossed over his chest like he’s defensive, like he’s hiding, and he leans against the wall by the sinks.

“I don’t have anything on me today,” Eddie says, dropping his bag. “I can take an order and get back to you, or…”

He trails off when he sees the confusion flicker in Steve’s eyes, and then Steve blinks.

“That’s not… Uhm. What I wanted to talk about.”

“Oh,” Eddie says. “Okay. What’s going on, then?” He leans against the wall across from him, pushing his hands into his pockets as he eyes him confusedly. He’s never had an actual conversation with Steve Harrington, nothing beyond weed or pills exchanged for cash at parties, but Steve has always been different from the others that Eddie sold to. He always smiled. Nobody else ever smiles, not unless they’re already high. But Steve, fully sober, always, always gives Eddie this soft, kind, friendly smile that always lingers in Eddie’s mind afterwards.

It’s not that he has a crush. Steve Harrington is attractive, Eddie knows that. Everyone knows that. He’s Steve Harrington. But Eddie apparently has a little bit of a soft spot for anyone that’s kind of him, anyone that smiles at him like he’s just a person instead of the local druggie, weirdo, freak. And apparently anyone is just Steve.

“Uh.” Steve hesitates, lifting a hand and biting his thumbnail anxiously, looking at the floor. “I’ve heard some, uhm. Rumors. About you.”

Eddie blinks, raising an eyebrow. There are lots of rumors about him.

“That you’re…” Steve continues, his eyes shining brightly, nervously. He’s shaking a little bit. “That you’re— you’re queer?”

Eddie blinks again.

His stomach twists, and part of him wants to snap at him. Fuck you, Harrington. Because the last boy that pulled him aside and brought that rumor up, that asked if it’s true, just had Eddie kneel on the floor and suck him off before he left. Eddie liked it, liked the weight of his dick in his mouth, the feeling of his fingers in his hair, but he didn’t like the way the boy coldly said Keep your mouth shut about this as though Eddie would have told anyone. And he didn’t like the way the boy barely looked at him ever again, except when he bought from him in front of his friends, and he didn’t like the way the next time Eddie tried to talk to him he snapped at him that it was a one-time thing.

I’m not— I’m not like you. I just wanted to get off.

Eddie wants to walk past Steve, to let the door slam behind him, because he never wants another boy to look at him like that again. Disgusted. Like he didn’t ask for it. Like he didn’t beg for it.

But Steve is staring at him, unblinking, his eyes shining so brightly it looks like he might start crying, and he’s shaking, and Eddie is saying, “Yeah,” before he can say anything.

“Is it… Is it true?” Steve asks quietly, whispering.

“Yeah,” Eddie says.

Yeah.

He’s never said it out loud before. That he’s gay. Queer.

He never had to say it out loud to Wayne. He knew the day Eddie moved in with him, murmured that everything was okay as he put the colourful band-aid on his face.

Steve exhales. He nods. Looks at the ground.

Eddie waits. It’s quiet in the bathroom, and one of the sinks is dripping, the quiet tap tap tap tap tap echoing in the tile room.

“Why do you ask?” Eddie asks after a long minute. Steve lifts his head. His lips are pressed together, and he looks away from Eddie as a tear falls down his cheek. “Whoa, what’s wrong?” Eddie says, panicking a little, standing up straight off the wall he’s leaning on and moving a little bit closer. “Are you okay?”

“I—” Steve wipes his face quickly, and Eddie’s stomach twists again. “I think I might… be like you.”

Eddie freezes, looking at him.

“Like me,” he repeats slowly. Steve nods, blinking tears out of his eyes, and he looks so… scared. Eddie’s whole body hurts. “Oh.”

“I just… I’m kind of freaking out about it, and I— I don’t know what to do, and I didn’t know who to talk to about it, but I needed to…”

“It’s cool,” Eddie says reassuringly, trying to smile. “Steve, it’s fine, man, alright? I won’t tell anyone.”

Steve nods, squeezing his eyes shut and wiping his face again. Eddie steps past him into a stall and grabs some toilet paper, bunching it up before he gives it to him, and Steve takes it with a quiet, “Thank you,” and then a muttered apology.

“You don’t have to be sorry, man,” Eddie says softly. “It’s cool.”

Steve uses the paper to wipe his face. His cheeks are pink, and they redden more as he rubs tears off his skin too roughly. Eddie kind of wants to take over, to wipe his tears softly, gently, the way he deserves. He doesn’t.

“It’s…” He hesitates. Steve looks at him. “It’s cool to… know there’s someone else. That gets it.”

Steve nods, half-smiling.

It’s quiet for a moment as he sniffles, looking at the ground again, at his clean white sneakers next to Eddie’s dirty black chucks. Eddie reaches out for him hesitantly, touching his forearm, and he pulls gently. Steve falls against him easily, and their arms wrap around each other tightly. They sway slightly, quiet as they embrace each other, and Eddie squeezes his eyes shut.

“Steve,” he says after a few moments. “You listening?”

“Yeah?”

Eddie pulls back enough to look at him, holding his shoulders firmly. Steve’s hands find his forearms, gentle and tentative. Eddie hesitates for a moment before he speaks.

“You haven’t done anything wrong,” he says firmly. Steve’s lip quivers. “You understand me?” he says quietly, leaning closer as he speaks, and Steve’s hands tighten on his arms. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

“Okay,” Steve says weakly.

“Okay,” Eddie repeats softly, He squeezes Steve’s shoulders.

The bell rings as Steve is taking a deep breath, and Eddie pauses as he watches Steve lean down to pick up his bag. He looks tired now, drained and exhausted, but he isn’t crying anymore.

“Uh, hey,” Eddie says before he can leave. Steve looks at him. “...You know where I live, right? Cherry Lane?” Steve nods, looking at him curiously. “...Do you wanna come over tonight? Just to— to talk about it?”

Steve’s lips twitch into a smile, and he nods.

“Thank you,” he says quietly before he leaves.

Eddie leans against the wall Steve had been leaning on, sighing heavily and rubbing his face. He drops his hands after a moment, and he feels different. Lighter. He can’t place exactly what it is that’s different now, but he turns to look in the mirror to see if he looks any different. He doesn’t. Still messy-haired, still weird. He picks his bag up off the ground and leaves.

— — — — —

Wayne leaves for work just as Eddie is getting home, and he pauses in the living room as Eddie is nudging his boots out of the way to ruffle his hair and kiss his forehead. Eddie swats him away, pretending he doesn’t love it. Wayne’s done it since Eddie was a kid, since before he moved in with him. Even Eddie’s own parents never showed him affection like this, but Wayne always did, on his way in and his way out of Eddie’s parents’ house. Eddie always looked forward to it. Now it’s daily, a regular standard for what makes a good day. When Eddie misses him on his way to work he misses it.

Eddie waits in the living room, laying upside down on the sofa with a book above his head. He’s changed into sweatpants and an old sweatshirt that’s stained with bleach, the dark fabric reddish-orange in spots. His hair is falling from the bun he tied it up in as he turns the pages slowly, tapping his feet in time with the music that’s playing from the boombox in the corner. (They got it from one of the neighbors that moved away two years ago; Eddie loves it with all his heart.)

He scrambles up when there’s a knock on the door, stumbling over his own feet and dropping the book. He stoops to pick it up, losing his page, just before he opens the door to find Steve, wide-eyed.

“You okay?” Steve asks, glancing at Eddie’s messy hair.

“I’m very clumsy,” Eddie says, remembering how thin the walls in, and he steps aside, gesturing with the book. “Come on in.”

“I’m aware,” Steve says, stepping past him. “We had gym together last year, it was like watching a baby giraffe learn to walk.”

“Fuck you,” Eddie says, shutting the door, snorting as Steve shoots him an amused look, and they fall quiet as Steve looks around the living room and kitchen. “Uh, it’s not much, but…”

“I like it,” Steve says. He seems to sense Eddie’s disbelief, and he shoots him another look. “I’m serious. It’s nice.” He looks back around. “It looks like you actually live here. My place looks like a goddamn catalogue set.” He wanders slowly, eyes scanning Wayne’s hats and mugs, the stains on the walls. “White walls, white carpets.”

“No childhood mudstains?” Eddie asks, leaning against the table by the door.

“Once,” Steve says, pausing to read one of the trucker hats, smiling absently. “Dad beat the shit outta me and the carpets were replaced within the next three days.”

Eddie blinks, and Steve pauses again, seemingly realizing what he’s just said. He turns a little, his face pink as he looks at Eddie.

“Anyway.”

Eddie scoffs at the lightness of his tone.

“You want a beer?” he asks, heading to the kitchen, wondering what he did in his life to deserve this, Steve Harrington exploring his living room like it’s a fine arts exhibit, like it’s a gallery.

“Uh, yeah. Sure.”

Eddie gets two beers from the fridge and cracks them open with the bottle opener magnet before he passes one to Steve over the sink, and then he beckons with a tilt of his head.

“Think you might like my room,” he says, leading him down the hall.

“Are you trying to flirt with me?”

“Hah.” Eddie ignores the way his face flushes with heat, but Steve doesn’t say anything else before they’re in Eddie’s room, and Eddie moves out of the way as Steve lets out an earnest, “Whoa.”

Eddie grins, taking a sip of his beer as Steve looks, wide-eyed, around the room. The music is still playing in the living room.

Now the tears, they fall like rain I'm alone again without you

Steve wanders slowly, looking at the posters on the walls, the drawings and ripped-out magazine pages, the faded photographs and newspaper clippings, the CORRODED COFFIN tapestry, the guitars. He looks like he’s in awe, almost smiling as he gazes at everything.

“I like it,” he says finally, turning to look at Eddie, who’s sitting on the edge of his bed, and Eddie quirks his eyebrows at him. Steve rolls his eyes and sips his beer, moving to sit on the floor, looking around again, this time at Eddie’s bed and the posters above it, at the mess on Eddie’s nightstand. Eddie slides off the bed onto the floor in front of him.

They’re quiet for a moment. Steve crosses his legs and draws his knees to his chest like he’s trying to shrink in on himself, and it feels odd to see the King like this, small and vulnerable and quiet.

“How did you know that you’re, uhm…” Steve trails off nervously, his lips brushing the top of his bottle.

“You can say gay, Steve,” Eddie says quietly. “‘S not a bad word.”

Steve glances at him.

“How did you know that you’re gay?” he asks. His voice is tentative, soft.

“Don’t think I ever really realized it,” Eddie says. “I think I just kind of always knew. I realized it wasn’t… I don’t know. Normal, I guess. When I was, like, thirteen.”

Steve is listening intently, looking at Eddie over his bottle and his knees, and his eyes are shining in that way again, bright and nervous and shy, and Eddie wonders how this boy in front of him ever became the King of Hawkins High when he’s looking at him like this.

“I kept quiet about it,” Eddie says, sensing that Steve doesn’t have anything to say. “After my dad found out, he… He wasn't happy. Wayne doesn’t mind. We don’t really talk about it, but…”

“How does he know?” Steve asks quietly. Eddie tilts his head.

“Dear old Dad had some choice words to say about me the next time Wayne came to visit. I went home with him that day. I was fifteen. And then the next year, Ma and Dad left town.”

Steve blinks his pretty eyes.

“‘M sorry.”

Eddie shrugs.

“Nothing to be sorry about. I don’t miss them.” He pauses, sipping his beer, then lifts his chin at Steve. “How’d you realize?” he asks, avoiding The Word, because it’s Steve Harrington. Notorious ladies’ man.

Steve shrugs shyly, looking down at the bottle in his hands.

“I don’t think I ever really liked girls,” he says quietly. “I only went out with them after I knew they liked me. I can tell when they’re flirting with me, and it just kind of… I don’t know. Felt like an obligation. I’d get them off if they wanted, but I think they could tell I wasn’t really into it, so we just kind of… Went on.”

Eddie blinks, a little surprised. Steve is still staring at the bottle, his eyes glazed over, and he speaks again, his voice soft like he doesn’t realize he’s speaking out loud.

“I could never get hard. Thought there was something wrong with me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you, Steve,” Eddie says gently. Steve looks at him, his eyes wide like he’s startled, and then he looks away again, his gaze aimless as he looks at the ground. “...Steve?”

Steve takes a shuddering breath.

“...I think I’m dying,” he says so quietly Eddie almost doesn’t hear it. His hands are shaking now, the bottle moving with them, and when his eyes find Eddie’s again, shining with panic and unshed tears, Eddie realizes what’s happening. He reaches out to take the bottle as he sets his own aside.

“You’re not dying, sweetheart,” he says quietly, setting Steve’s bottle aside and moving a little closer. “You’re okay.”

Steve takes a sharp breath, and his eyes flicker back and forth between Eddie’s.

“My heart’s beating too fast,” he says weakly, panting, and Eddie’s chest aches at the fear in his eyes.

“I know,” he whispers, moving forward to touch him, pressing a hand firmly over his chest, over his heart. “It’ll slow down if you slow your breathing, okay?”

“Eddie—”

“Slowly,” Eddie says softly, nodding. “Breathe with me, you got it.” He inhales slowly, watching the way Steve’s eyes lower to watch his mouth. Steve’s hands raise a little bit, reaching for Eddie before they fall. “You can touch me,” Eddie says. “‘S alright.”

Steve’s hands find Eddie’s arms as his legs fall, and he pulls, closing his eyes as he tries to breathe slowly.

“You want me to come closer?” Eddie asks softly. Steve nods.

Eddie shifts closer, moving so he can put his legs around him, and Steve clutches at his arms.

“I can’t breathe,” he chokes, opening his eyes to look at Eddie desperately. Tears fall down his cheeks as he gasps for breath.

“Yes, you can,” Eddie says softly, reaching with his other hand to wipe his face, and one of Steve’s hands jumps to it. Eddie thinks he’s about to swat it away, but he holds it to himself, closing his eyes again. Eddie brushes his thumb over his cheek. “Slowly, Stevie, inhale.”

Steve inhales, hiccupping and gasping, and Eddie presses against his heart.

“Hold it for a moment… And out. There you go,” he murmurs, watching the way Steve’s brows furrow in effort, watching the way he’s holding Eddie’s wrist tightly, his fingertips pressing into the fabric of Eddie’s sweatshirt. “Again, in, slow…”

He does it with him, guiding, demonstrating, blowing his hair out of his face as he exhales, and Steve’s breaths slow after a few minutes. His grip on Eddie’s wrist loosens, and he blinks his eyes open. Eddie brushes his thumb over his cheek.

“Alright?” he whispers.

“Sorry,” Steve says softly, turning his face into Eddie’s hands.

“Don’t,” Eddie whispers. “It’s okay.”

Steve takes a long, slow, breath, shuddering. Eddie moves a little closer without letting go of his face. He moves his other hand down, running over Steve’s waist before it rests on his leg.

“I’m…” Steve looks at him, his eyes glistening. “I’m so scared, Eddie,” he says weakly, his voice wavering. Eddie’s chest clenches.

“I know,” he whispers.

“I think— I think if my dad finds out, he’ll actually kill me, I—” He gasps, and Eddie leans in, his own eyes stinging.

“Hey, listen to me,” he says softly. “He won’t find out, okay? This is just between us.”

Steve sniffles, looking at him.

“You know how good I am at keeping secrets?” Eddie says, and Steve laughs wetly, reaching to wipe his face, but Eddie beats him to it. “No one else has to know,” he murmurs. “You’re safe here, Steve.”

Steve closes his eyes, and Eddie holds his face between his hands. They’re quiet for a moment, and Steve touches his wrists, running his hands down to squeeze his forearms like he’s grounding himself. He takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly.

“Why do I feel so…” He pauses, furrowing his brows again like he’s uncomfortable, like something is poking him. “Why do I feel so… dirty?” he whispers.

Eddie’s chest aches. He’s familiar with the feeling, the filth of existing.

“You’re not dirty,” he whispers back. “That’s how they want you to feel.”

Steve looks at him. Eddie pauses, swallowing, and his throat is tight now, because he’s never to explain this out loud, any of this. These thoughts that occurred to him late at night as he stared up at the ceiling in the dark, these thoughts that he wanted to whisper to the moon but was too scared to say out loud. He used to think saying it all out loud would make it real, but he knows now that it doesn’t matter how loud it all is. It’s real even when it’s just in his head. It was real before he was even born.

And he realizes at this moment, as he holds Steve’s face tenderly, as he feels Steve’s fingers press into his forearms and watches another tear slip over his fingers on Steve’s cheek, the feeling that he felt earlier today when Steve left him in the bathroom. The shift he felt under his skin like his cells were moving into place, like he has a whole new body.

Nothing is different, not really.

He just isn’t lonely anymore.

It’s like his body knows there’s someone else in this stupid fucking town that knows how he feels. Someone that matches him.

And he gets to say this out loud now. It’s not as scary when there’s someone to hear it. Someone to understand it.

“They make us out to be…” He pauses, licking his lips as he thinks. “These… filthy, perverted monsters. They talk about us and lie about us and make shit up about us being weird freaks, which, I mean, me personally, I guess it fits,” he says, his chest tightening when Steve half-smiles, scoffing. “But you, Steve Harrington,” he says, shaking Steve’s head lightly, making his smile widen, “are an upstanding citizen.”

“I buy drugs from you,” Steve says, leaning forward, and Eddie laughs lightly.

“You are not my most frequent customer.”

Steve snorts, shaking his head, but Eddie is still holding his face. He doesn’t let go.

“You are a good person, Steve Harrington,” he says quietly.

“You hardly know me,” Steve whispers.

Eddie looks at him. At his eyes. They’re hazel up close. Specked with green and brown and gold. He looks at the spots on his skin. Eddie wants to memorize them like constellations. There are tears caught in his eyelashes, and his nose and cheeks are rosy, and Eddie’s stomach flips over as he realizes just how beautiful he is. Not just hot, or attractive, but… Pretty. Lovely.

“You always smile at me when you pay me,” Eddie says softly, absently. “No one ever does that unless they’re high. But you smile every time.”

Steve blinks. Smiles. He has a beautiful smile.

“That makes me good?”

“That makes you better than the others,” Eddie whispers. “Makes you my favorite.”

Steve’s cheeks turn pink. Eddie smiles, brushing his thumbs over them.

“Tell me about you,” he says softly. “I wanna know you.”

Steve's smile falls. He’s quiet for a moment, running his hands over Eddie’s forearms before they fall to rest on his legs, and then his fingers play absently with the folds of his sweatpants.

“I’m lonely,” he says after a few moments, breathing the words quietly. “All the time. When I’m with my friends, when I’m at parties or at basketball practice or at games, I’m… I always feel like I’m hiding.” Eddie brushes his thumbs over his cheeks, listening. “I feel like I’m some… statue. Dressed as me, and— and pretending to be me, but no one really knows me.” He closes his eyes, turning his face into Eddie’s palm, leaning closer, pressing his hands over Eddie’s legs, and his voice shakes as he speaks again. “...I’m so lonely.”

“Me too,” Eddie whispers.

Steve sighs quietly, and he opens his eyes finally, looking at him.

“Can we be lonely together?”

“Yeah,” Eddie breathes. “I’d like that.”

Steve smiles, and then he closes his eyes, turning his face into Eddie’s palm again and sighing. Eddie gazes at him, and something settles in his chest. Something different than before.

— — — — —

“Have you ever kissed a boy?” Steve asks later as he passes the joint back to Eddie. They’re still on the floor, but they’ve moved to sit across from each other, Eddie with his back against the bed, Steve with his back against his dresser. Their empty beer bottles are on the ground with them, one of them knocked over, and the room is dim, lit up by the golden glow of the lamps next to Eddie’s bed. Steve bites into a red Twizzler as Eddie shakes his head, taking a hit.

“I’ve touched a few dicks,” he says, and Steve snorts, his eyes squinting as he giggles, chewing, holding the rest of the Twizzler in his hand. He’s so cute. “Sucked a grand total of two.”

“Was it nice?” Steve asks. Eddie shrugs, taking another drag.

“Was nice until they both insisted they’re not gay.”

“I’m assuming these were separate occasions,” Steve says, reaching for the joint.

“No, the three of us had a conference actually,” Eddie says sarcastically, and Steve rolls his eyes, taking a drag, and Eddie smiles, watching him. “Have you ever kissed a boy?” he asks.

Steve shakes his head, exhaling the smoke slowly.

“Kissed plenty of girls,” he says quietly. “But I assume they’re different.”

Eddie watches him take another drag, hesitating before he decides to just do it.

“Do you want to?”

Steve looks at him, his eyes flickering across his face as he exhales again, and then he nods. Eddie smiles, beckoning with a tilt of his head.

Steve puts the joint out in the ashtray that’s between them before he moves closer, sitting in front of Eddie, who sits up straight. Their knees touch when Steve crosses his legs, and they both pause, just looking at each other quietly.

“Okay?” Eddie whispers. Steve nods.

They pause again, and it’s awkward, and then they’re both giggling, quiet and muffled like they’re children at a sleepover, staying up past their bedtime.

And then they’re leaning in, and Eddie’s eyes flutter shut, and their smiling lips press together.

Steve is so soft.

All of him.

His hair, his face, his lips, his heart.

And he touches Eddie like he’s soft too, like he’s fragile. Steve touches his face, his fingers touching his cheeks before he’s holding them in his palms, tilting his head as his lips part. He tastes like artificial strawberries, and Eddie wants to kiss him until the taste fades.

Slowly, Eddie reaches out to him, finding his waist as Steve’s teeth catch his lower lip, and he pulls at him. Steve lifts onto his knees without pulling away, still kissing Eddie (kissing Eddie), and he holds Eddie’s jaw to tilt his head back, holding him in place. Eddie suppresses a shiver, his body tensing, when Steve’s tongue slips across his lower lip.

Steve pulls back, and Eddie tries to follow, exhaling as he lifts his chin. He opens his eyes blearily, looking up at him. His eyes are glassy, shining as he looks at Eddie, as he caresses his face, and a moment later, his lips spread into a slow smile. Eddie smiles weakly, hands holding Steve’s soft waist.

Steve leans back down and kisses him again, sliding a hand up into his hair to hold the back of his head, and Eddie exhales roughly, his hands tightening on Steve’s waist and pulling him closer. Steve pulls away to look down as he reaches down and pulls at Eddie’s leg so he straightens them out so Steve can crawl into his lap, straddling his hips. He’s heavy on Eddie’s legs, and Eddie lets out a soft groan, wrapping his arms around his waist as Steve kisses him again.

He lets Steve lick his mouth open, gathering the fabric of Steve’s shirt in his hands. He’s probably wrinkling it, but Steve doesn’t stop him. His breath is warm, and Eddie’s never felt so… peaceful. The room is nearly silent except for the soft, slick sounds of their lips and the breathy hums they can’t hold back, but Eddie doesn’t mind the quiet now. He pulls Steve closer, sliding a hand up his back and smiling when Steve shivers. And then Eddie shivers when Steve’s fingertips dance over his throat lightly. It tickles, but in a way that sends chills down his spine. Steve grins, biting Eddie’s lip again before he sucks on it gently.

Eddie hums, and Steve wraps his arms around his neck, kissing him and kissing him and kissing him, and his lips curve into a smile against Eddie’s when Eddie presses a hand into the small of his back. Eddie moves slowly, carefully, gently, shifting so he’s kneeling and opening his eyes just enough to glance past Steve at the dresser as he turns slowly. Steve’s legs wrap around his hips as he leans over, lowering Steve onto his back.

Steve hums softly, holding Eddie’s neck as their tongues slide, and when Eddie lifts his head, they’re both breathless, panting into each other’s mouths, smiling and smiling and smiling.

“Do you still feel dirty?” Eddie whispers quietly. Steve’s hair is splayed around his head on the ground like a halo, and his face is relaxed, blissful, beautiful.

“No,” Steve breathes.

“How do you feel?” Eddie murmurs against his lips before he kisses him slowly. Steve’s fingers run through his hair as he kisses his cheek, then his jaw, then his neck, just under his ear, his lips pressing slowly, lingering. He reaches down and slips his fingers under the hem of Steve’s shirt, pressing into his skin. It’s so soft. And warm.

“...Beautiful.”

Eddie smiles. He slides his hand farther under the shirt, lifting his head to watch Steve’s expression just in case, but Steve just smiles and tilts his head back, baring his throat. Eddie kisses it.

They undress. Slowly, softly. Steve’s shirt goes first because Eddie can’t keep his hands off him, pressing under the fabric to press into his skin, and then after it’s tossed aside, Steve is tugging at Eddie’s sweatshirt wordlessly. Eddie sits up, kneeling between Steve’s legs as he tugs it over his head, Steve watches, his eyes glassy and flicking back and forth between Eddie’s face and his torso. He sits up a little, propping himself up on his elbow as he reaches for Eddie’s chest, brushing his fingertips over his tattoos. The spider and the zombie, the letters inked over his ribs that he did himself, late at night in his room with headphones on and a needle between his fingers. The words no one has ever seen before. Not even Wayne.

The letters are faded, the ink spotty and uneven, and probably a little crooked, slanted, wobbly like a child’s handwriting, reading THE URGE TO followed by two words, one atop the other.

CREATE DESTROY

Steve touches them tenderly, and he pushes Eddie so he leans back as he tilts his head and leans close enough to kiss the letters softly. Eddie smiles.

Steve’s hands are warm as they run over Eddie’s stomach, over his waist and chest, and Eddie feels beautiful, too, now. He’s never felt beautiful before.

He runs his own hands over Steve’s chest as they kiss again, tilting his head to lick into his mouth, sighing as Steve reaches up to push his hair back again. And Steve lowers back onto the floor again, his hands gentle as they pull Eddie down with him, and Eddie thinks he would go anywhere if Steve was the one pulling him along. Through the depths of hell. Off the edge of the earth.

He holds himself up on his elbow next to Steve’s head, and he can push his fingers through Steve’s hair without moving, so he does. It’s soft, and smooth, and Eddie loves it. Steve’s legs wrap around Eddie’s hips again, pulling him against himself, and then they’re both gasping and giggling into each other’s mouths, because they’re both hard, and Eddie doesn’t know what to do. He presses down against him again, and a soft, desperate noise escapes Steve’s throat as his hand tightens in Eddie’s hair.

Steve reaches for the drawstring of Eddie’s sweatpants. Eddie reaches for the button of his jeans.

They’re both breathing hard as they shed their pants, their faces close like they can’t stand to be apart, and Eddie presses his face into Steve’s neck as they toss them aside, followed quickly by their underwear, and Steve’s fingers press into his hair, holding the back of his head and Eddie gently pushes him back to the floor. And his whole body is so warm, covered in soft hair and moles that Eddie wants to trace. He wants to connect them all, with his fingertips, or with his tongue. Steve’s skin is tanner than Eddie’s, especially in the quiet glow of the lamps, and when Eddie glances down at their bodies pressed together, they look like silver and gold, and Eddie decides that are beautiful. Separately, and together.

Eddie holds his hand up, and Steve takes it wordlessly, turning his face away from Eddie’s to slide his tongue across his palm slowly, and then his head falls to the ground again as Eddie reaches down. He sounds so pretty as Eddie touches him, letting out soft moans and curses, whispering Eddie’s name like it’s all he knows. He kisses Eddie. Again, and again, and again.

Steve wraps his arms around Eddie, and he buries his face in his neck, and he’s kissing him, kissing him, kissing him, and Eddie is groaning and whining and crying. There’s going to be a mark (or a few) left behind, he already knows, and he already can’t wait to see it in the mirror tomorrow morning. Steve lets out a choked noise when he comes, his back arching, and Eddie keeps crying.

— — — — —

Eddie runs his fingers through Steve’s hair, looking up at the ceiling, watching the smoke drift up and fade. Steve’s head is on his chest, and he sighs to blow the smoke out as they finish the joint they abandoned earlier.

Steve shifts to look up at him, lifting the joint to Eddie’s mouth for him, and Eddie smiles, parting his lips for it. Steve lets him take a long drag, and then he leans over him as he pulls the joint away, kissing his lips softly and opening his mouth for Eddie to blow the smoke out, into his lungs. Eddie opens his eyes when Steve pulls away, passing the joint to him as he exhales the smoke slowly.

Steve lays back down as Eddie smokes, his head resting on Eddie’s chest, hand raised to trace the spider that’s in front of his face, his fingertips light as he touches the legs of the spider, running down them slowly and carefully, like he’s worried about scaring it off. Eddie scratches at his scalp gently, combing his hair.

He can hear Steve’s heartbeat. Soft, and slow, and sleepy.

They got dressed after cleaning each other up quietly, pressing kisses to each other’s skin. Steve out on Eddie’s sweatshirt as Eddie was putting on his sweatpants, and Eddie just smiled, watching him shake his hair out of his face.

Their legs twist under the blankets, and Steve sighs again, sliding his hands over Eddie’s chest gently. Eddie knows without looking that his eyes are closed, and he shifts, tapping the joint out in the ashtray and then flicking off the lamp. The room goes dark except the sliver of moonlight coming through the small window across the room and the softly glowing end of the joint.

“I still feel beautiful,” Steve whispers as Eddie closes his eyes. Eddie moves down to wrap his arms around him, and he kisses his temple.

“Good.”

[daffi-990]

Tease Tidbit Tuesday 🏙️

Tagged by @diazsdimples & @tizniz. Make sure to check out what they shared today! (and maybe send James a virtual hug or a stupid punny joke? He’s been sick for 3 weeks and I’m sure he could use some cheering up 😘)

I have been wanting so desperately to write the past few days but a cold has my sinuses putting so much pressure on my head I feel like it’s going to explode, plus it’s school holidays and it’s been raining so I’ve got two very energetic kids with cabin fever running around causing mayhem 😅.

BUT! I did manage to write a little something for LA Lonely so yay (even though it may not be great, at least it’s words)

Pre snippet here

Buck is woken up by the shrill sound of a phone ringing. The bed jostles, Buck letting out an annoyed grumble as the warm body that is wrapped around him disappears. There is a kiss pressed to his naked shoulder, a whispered apology and then the rustling of the blankets as the person leaves the bed, answering the phone with a quiet hello.

Rolling over to check the time, Buck’s surprised to see that it’s almost 9. Usually his body clock wakes him up at 7am everyday, whether he stayed up late or not, so sleep-ins are a rare thing. He rolls onto his back, groaning as he stretches his arms up above his head. There’s a slight ache in his ass but it’s a reminder of the fantastic sex he had last night and honestly, Buck doesn’t mind the discomfort.

He hears footsteps on the stairs, the wood creaking slightly and then the most attractive man Buck has ever laid eyes on is standing at the foot of his bed wearing nothing but underwear and a soft apologetic smile that has Buck’s tummy swooping.

Eddie.

The man’s name is Eddie, Buck remembers. And remember he should because he was moaning it loud enough last night.

Eddie has a phone pressed between his ear and shoulder as he picks up his jeans and begins to awkwardly shimmy them up his legs. “I told you, I overslept. But I’m getting ready now and can be there in —” he looks down at his wrist and frowns, his eyes sweeping over the discarded clothes on the floor before zeroing in on Buck’s second nightstand where a clunky watch sits. Eddie grabs the watch, quickly checking the time before he begins strapping it on. “I can be there in 20 minutes, 15 if the traffic is good.”

Buck feels a pang in his chest and then instantly chastises himself. This was just another hookup, a one night stand —nothing more than that. He was foolish to think that what he felt last night with Eddie was anything real. It was just the hormones.

Eddie may have stayed, but that was probably because he was hoping to get lucky again this morning. Or like Buck, he slept in and didn’t get a chance to sneak out before Buck woke up.

No pressure tagging: @hippolotamus @puppyboybuckley @spotsandsocks @lover-of-mine @loserdiaz @wikiangela @athenagranted @thewolvesof1998 @exhuastedpigeon @monsterrae1 @wildlife4life @watchyourbuck @elvensorceress @eddiebabygirldiaz @evanbegins @goforkinard @rainbow-nerdss @theotherbuckley @try-set-me-on-fire @dangerpronebuddie @disasterbuckdiaz @devirnis @donationwayne @shitouttabuck @sunshinediaz @princessfbi @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @fortheloveofbuddie @giddyupbuck @homerforsure @hoodie-buck @honestlydarkprincess @jesuisici33 @king-buckley @captain-hen @bekkachaos @bigfootsmom @ladydorian05 @nmcggg @mellaithwen @missmagooglie and as always, anyone else who wants to share something -> consider this your official tag

[lil-quinnie]

Hellish

part I part II

Stepdad!Eddie x F!reader

Warnings: STEPCEST, AGE GAP (Eddie's 40s and Reader is middle 20s) , daddy kink, oral (f receiving) , slight pet play, dom sub dynamic, degradation, cheating, bad family's relationship, squirt, lots off angst at the end? Lemme know if i forget something <3

Summary: Your mother left your stepfather alone and lonely on her birthday, the next morning you wanted to make his morning as easy as possible, that's what a good girl would do, isn't it?

picture of older Eddie by: @eddiemunsons-missingnipple

After that hellish vision you decided to stay in bed until everyone had left home. You dragged on to the shower and decided that your last days in that shitty city would not be sorry for yourself because of your mother's husband.

You accepted the invitation of an old friend and went to find her in a bar outside the city, you chose your look accurately, a black skirt a fishnet and a pair of boots, your shirt deliciously hugged your breasts and accentuated every right curve of Your body "is what you have for today" you sighed throwing your things in your bag and disappearing along the stairs.

The way to the bar was quiet, you were thinking if you should go or not, whether you should get your things and disappear from the house you shouldn't have returned, if you should beg your stepfather for another night of pleasure, just one more before you disappear for months again.

6 PM, marked the watch of your car when you were entering the bar, you danced all night, talked to almost all the people in the bar and after some drinks, your social energy had already been drained. You decided to stay a little longer until you feel sober enough to drive.

2 AM, mark the watch when you parked your car in front of the horrors' house, I say, your old home. You staggered to the kitchen, laughing alone at the situation you were in.

The refrigerator light illuminated the small kitchen as you took a few bottles of water knowing that you would need the next morning, your skirt climbed a little on your hip, leaving the pulp of your ass appearing by Fishnet.

You could hear the paper cracks, slowly burning. The red dot in the middle of the living room darkness. 

You managed to hear him slowly letting out the smoke as if he were angry, your body hardened to hear the man get up from the couch.

Heavy boots raging against the wooden floor, getting closer and closer, making your breathing shake a few times. He trapped you between the counter and his body, cigarette burning alone between Eddie's fingers, his eyes that were always kind, were black and red. "He was crying or was very stoned," You thought, having to bite your lips to repress your drunk laugh.

"Tell me dear, what is so funny?" He asked in a screening tone, his face dangerously near to your neck, you felt the warm breath of your stepfather collide against your soft skin, with a light kiss on the foot of your ear, he whispered "Oh! Poor baby" he nibbled the lobe of your ear "cat eat your tongue?” he kissed your neck, you could feel his tongue living a wet trail until your ear “slut".

You let out a low moan and that was enough for your stepfather's lips to collide with yours. The kiss was rough and needy, his tongue was looking for yours, passing through it softly, he could taste the cigarette, the beer and if he paid a little more attention, the tequila in your mouth.

His hands circled your waist "jump" he said pulling his lips away from yours for a few seconds already returning to kiss you, deepening it more and more, he sat you down on the kitchen table, "where's my mother?" you said with your hands in the man's hair, pulling slightly to position his head in a way that you could control the kiss, he moaned into your mouth. "she left" his hands went to your knees, forcing them "open" his mouth now on your neck, biting and licking the stinging pain away "fucking where to?".

He stopped the attack on your neck and pulled back a little to look into your face, his serious face made your stomach go cold "language" he warned you.

The man crossed his arms in front of his chest, looking you up and down, their eyes roaming freely over your body, smirking as he saw your skirt hiked up, your hair slightly messy and your shirt draped over one shoulder "I don't know" he said, positioning himself again between your thighs, his hand firmly holding your neck, yours lips lightly touching "I don't care", attacking your mouth again.

You pinned Eddie against your body with your legs, your hands ripping off his jacket and lifting his white tank top, pulling it off over his head. "God I love your body" you said, circling the half faded spider tattoo on the man's chest, your mouth kissing his neck as you caressed your stepdad's luscious body. "Fuck kitten, I need you" his husky voice made your pussy throb.

His heavy hands pulled you closer to the edge of the table, your ass almost falling out, he ripped your fishnet making you gasp, his thumb found your clit still covered, massaging in a slow rhythm "so good for me , my good little girl"

His hips moved against Eddie's thumb, making the older man laugh, "please daddy please i need you" you said almost crying

"As much of a bad girl you've been" he said, taking his hand away from you abruptly "I can't wait to be inside that pussy any longer" he pulled your panties to the side, hissing when he saw it glistening. He knelt down in front of you, burying his face between your thighs without warning, making you moan loudly.

"daddy, daddy, please please I want your cock, I want your cock inside me" you said at the same time that your hands pressed his face even more against your pussy, riding his face, feeling your orgasm growing in your your belly "fuck! so good you are so good to me daddy thank you thank you thank you"

Eddie gave your clit one last kiss before getting up, positioning himself between your legs "wider" he said, unfastening his belt, looking down at you as if you were prey "I needed to prepare you so it didn't hurt, princess".

his shaft in his hands, still semi-hard but big, making your mouth water at the memory of his cock buried in your throat. Your stepfather then slid his cock through your wet slit, collecting all your arousal, paying more attention to your clit, massaging it with the red head of his cock. 

You lay on your back on the table as Eddie pushed inch by inch of his big cock inside you, you felt him stretching you deliciously "damn,pussy so tight" he groaned, when his dick was all stuffed inside your pussy, he leaned his forehead against yours, giving you time to get used to his size. His dick was not only big but thick as well, despite the sharp pain you had never felt so… "full, I'm so full daddy please move"

Eddie started slowly, still with his forehead on yours, enjoying the feeling he hadn't felt in a while. Your pussy hugging the man's cock, who moaned whenever your hips met, Eddie placed small kisses along your face, stealing some of your lips , your hands caressed his face and you tried to get as much hair out of your way so you could see the eyes of the man who filled you out so well.

Removing all the dirty behind the act, you and Eddie for a few minutes made love, you felt it and he did too, the weight of guilt started to grow inside your chest, "if I feel so right why is it so wrong?" she repeated in your head, over and over again.

"harder,please" you begged even though you didn't want him to seem to fuck you as carefully as he was, in such a...passionate way.

"Is that what you want kitten?" he thrust a little harder, pulling a pornographic moan from his throat "want your stepdad to fuck you like the little bitch you are?", 

"yeah please I was a bad girl"

The words that came out from your mouth started a fire inside Eddie's chest, who pulled you off the table and leaned against it, leaving your ass in the air and showing it to him, the hand that just caressed you so carefully now marked the fat of your ass .

"Do you like being treated like a whore?" slap "Is that why you're dressed like that?" slap "n-no daddy" slap "shut the fuck up, bitches like you don't talk" he grabbed you by the neck, forcing your ass against his hard cock "i told you that pussy was mine didn't i" "y- yes" he tightened his hand against your throat, choking you slightly "yeah that's what i thought you dumb bitch".

His cock invades you, making your back arch. He fucked you like you weren't there, you could feel his cock vibrate with every moan he drew from you, he was using you like a rag doll and you loved it. The hand that was at her neck moved down to her soft breasts, squeezing and massaging, pinching her nipples deliciously, her body pressing her hips deeper and deeper into his thrusts in response.

"getting me so good, that's my good kitty" his hands now between her legs, circling her clit making her leg wobble, "such a good girl for daddy"

"Daddy, I'm coming.. i'm going to come daddy"

"NO, not yet, wait a little longer, for daddy"

Eddie's hand went down to your wet area, pressing your clit lightly "mo-more daddy" you moaned, while Eddie circled your clit in a delicious rhythm, his thrusts began to become uneven and his moans made your shivers run down your spine.

"daddy I'm going" your stepfather cut you off mid-sentence, with the voice of someone who was begging and breathing heavily "come with me baby, come for daddy"

You felt a strange heat build up in his belly "daddy stop I need to pee please daddy I, I'm going to pee".

your moans caused Eddie to increase and overstimulate your little pussy, pushing you to the limit.

You let your squirt wash over Eddie at the same time he filled your pussy with his cum "yeah that's my little girl, soaking daddy's dick, so good for me" he whispered in your ear.

You were caught up in the moment, staying connected for a few more minutes, too focused on each other to hear the door open, to hear the startle, the sigh, the footsteps getting closer.

With a push, your mother disconnected her husband from you, causing a deep void between your legs.

Before the older man got up, your mother was on top of you, scratching and squeezing every bit of skin that was exposed, screaming incoherently without pausing for breath. Eddie yanked her off you by the waist as the older woman screamed and struggled.

He held her tight against his body, holding her waist and head as if he was comforting the woman who had just scratched his face.

"Put your clothes on and go" he said, low and direct.

"what"? 

getting up from the table and arranging the clothes that the man had been trying to take off her body for minutes.

"Put.your.clothes.and.GET OUT"

With tears in your eyes and shame burning inside your body, you took the walk to the door. If the wound hadn't been so deep inside your heart, they would have been able to see the trail of blood Eddie's words caused you" yo-are- are you sure?" you managed to say between hiccups and choking tears

"Yeah, get out" Eddie hugged your mother tighter "she's my wife, now get out of your mother's house". Your mother let go of Eddie's embrace, walking towards you with teary eyes, your tears began to roll more steadily knowing that nothing good would come out of that close contact.

Your mother's hand that caressed you so much and brought you comfort, gave the last blow, hitting your face full "and it won't come back, I don't have a daughter". She closed the door in your face, leaving you alone in the middle of the dark and freezing night.

You crawled to your car, lying in the backseat and hugging your knees, your crying rocked you until sleep took you to a place less worse than reality.

Inside the house, your ex-stepfather's situation wasn't much better. A few hours after the incident, lying in bed with a woman he couldn't explain why he had chosen, his mind was only on you, on the tears and on your red nose, on the look of sadness and pain that you looked at him through last time, what could he do? "this is what i do, i run" he thought, moving the woman's arm away from his body.

He rubbed his face and in a second of insane courage, he lit his cigarette, put on his leather jacket and decided that he was going to apologize, and explain his fucking side, even if he needed to get down on his knees to beg your forgiveness he would.

He ran to the door and with a last breath gripped the handle tightly and pulled the door open.

A car, that's all there was at the entrance to the house of horrors. A

One singular car that wasn't yours, no sign of your car or you.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck" Eddie ran to his car, hitting his clothing pockets looking for the key, in agony and with shaking hands, the jingling of keys made him turn sharply towards the house, now with the balcony light access.

"looking for something?" 

-

taglist: @hesvoid34 sweetpuffy12 emma77645 prettyblackprincessstuff eddie-munsons-ringss @tlclick73 @luna-munson83 @daisynor4 @tayhar811 @cockslutslurper3000 @wisestarlightwolf @tuittyfruitty4020 @mochii-moo @fancyghosttrashhero-blog @shadowmoonlight0604 @brittney69 @waylandmorgernsternherondal-blog @she-collects-smut @honeyedshe @princessmads1820 @lma1986 @joantje @harringtonfan4 @bimbobaggins69

[loveshotzz]

Saturday Night’s Main Event. - One Shot

Eddie Munson X Fem Reader

Friends to lovers

Summary: Saturday nights were always reserved for you and Eddie. Sharing his love for WWF he won’t let you watch Saturday Nights Main Event with anyone else. After half a bottle of whisky and a wild match between Hulk Hogan and Randy Savage Eddie’s convinced he can do what they do. When he tries to prove it to you things get out of hand and feelings are revealed.

Author’s Note: This is purely self indulgent with my own love for the campy-ness of WWE, Still pretty new at writing fan fiction so comments, likes, and reblogs are always welcome! My requests are open and if i feel like i can do it I totally will. I’ll be writing part 7 of my series after this. Master list (light editing don’t mind my typos 🙈)

Warnings: This is long and this is diiirrrrtyyy. smutty smut smut with feels and fluff. Minors DO NOT ENTER!

Tag List: @emotionaldreamer @tayhar811 @eddiethesexy

Saturday nights were always reserved for you and Eddie.

Once he found out that you also had a deep love for WWF he wouldn’t let you watch The Main Event with anyone else. That’s how Saturday nights had become your favorite night of the week. Hellfire on Thursday’s always a close second, those were the nights you got your best friend to yourself. Those were the nights that made you realize how hopelessly in love you were with with the metal head. You’d never admit it out loud, hell you hardly could admit it to yourself. Eddie brought a comfort to you, a comfort you never wanted to lose. Love was messy and cruel and you knew, you just knew the hardships in life would break you two. That’s what happened to your parents so why wouldn’t it happen to you? Eddie’s at home life was just another testimony to add to your list of evidence. You were more then content with this little bubble you had built around you two, confident in your ability to hide your real feelings just sitting under the surface.

You blame Hulk Hogan and Jim Beam for tonight.

You two were always so high energy when you were together, especially on these nights. It was so easy for you to lose yourself in the matches with him, feeding off each other. There was never any embarrassment when you’d both be screaming at the TV or jumping from you seat when a finishing move blew your mind.

Eddie and you are Squeezed together on his love seat practically vibrating with excitement as The Warriors intro music starts playing. You try to ignore the heat of his thigh pressed tightly against yours. Cursing yourself for picking shorts today, something about his denim touching your bare skin was sending you into a silent frenzy.

“Alright kids, I’m heading out.” Wayne’s gruff voice breaks both your attentions from the TV. He can’t help but smirk at the excitement thats written all over your faces, happy his nephew had someone to spend what he knows are lonely nights with. Wayne could see clear as day the way you stared at his nephew but he was letting Eddie figure that out on his own.

“I promise I won’t let y/n burn the house down.” Eddie grins slinging an arm over you in what you thought was just a casual gesture, but as you feel his muscles start to constrict around your neck you don’t realize your in an arm chokehold till your eyes are face to face with the crotch of his black jeans.

“Eddie! Let me go asshole!” You immediately start fighting against his grasp needing to get out of this position immediately. Was the universe working against you tonight?

When you finally break free you give Eddie a shove before turning around to see his Uncle was already half way out the door chuckling to himself at the sight in front of him.

“It’s not her I’m worried about. it you she’s probably the only reason this place is still standing.” He teases lightly. “Be good.”

“Yeah, yeah get to work old man.” Eddie’s tone is exasperated but the playful glint in his eyes gives him away. You loved catching moments like this. The soft side of Eddie you would get on these nights is what made you realize the depth of your feelings for him, especially once he started to get soft on you.

When Wayne shuts the front door Eddie’s up almost immediately when he sees a commercial break, lightly jogging to his room. It’s not unlike him to surprise you with some kind of booze he had stashed under his bed, always whatever he could manage to swipe from the corner store. It was never the fact he was drinking he was trying to hide from his uncle it was the having to explain where he got it.

When he comes back there’s a shit eating grin spread across his face as he shakes the small handle of brown liquid, as he gets closer you realize its a bottle of Jim Beam.

“Jesus Christ Eddie, Jim Beam? I was expecting beer.”

Rolling his eyes, Eddie takes his place next to you on the couch and you swear his legs are spread even wider as he leans back into his seat.

“It’s a special occasion sweetheart, it’s The Main Event before Wrestle Mania. I was scoping this out for days just for this.” Eddie’s looking at you like he can’t believe you’d expect anything else.

All you can think about is the fact that he just called you sweetheart. The pet names were new, you’d noticed he started casually sprinkling them in a few weeks ago. Princess, sweetheart, and now pretty girl. He dropped that one during the last campaign and if it wasn’t for the looks on the rest of the boys faces when the endearment left his lips you’d do your best to think nothing of it. But it was the only thing you thought about for the last two days.

“My mistake Munson, don’t get your panties in a bunch.” You tease snatching the bottle from his hand before twisting off the cap taking a swig, its warm going down your throat and when you meet Eddie’s eyes you don’t know if its the shot that’s making your insides turn to mush or the look he’s giving you.

“Just throwin’ em back huh?” Eddie grins grabbing the bottle from your hands, and you feel his calloused finger tips brush against yours. The light touch making your body react and you don’t understand what’s happening to your self control tonight.

“It’s the Main Event before Wrestlemania.” You counter back arching an eyebrow using his own logic against him.

“Touché, you got me there.” He winks before mimicking your previous actions, you can’t help but laugh at the sour face he makes after the bottle leaves his lips.

“God that is AWFUL!” He keeps smacking his mouth in hopes the bad taste will somehow leave his taste buds.

“It’ll get better as we keep going.” You giggle reaching out for his arm in reassurance. He tenses under your sudden touch, his big brown eyes look at your hand before making their way to your green ones. You can’t place what you see dancing behind his pupils when he licks his lips and they tug into a small smirk.

“Promise?” You swear he’s looking up at you from underneath his lashes. Was Eddie flirting with you?

The sound of Randy Savage’s intro music saves you from having to figure that out, your eyes darting back to the TV screen.

“Quit being a baby.” You finally settle on snatching the bottle from his ringed fingers again tipping it back, welcoming the harsh burn.

The excited energy from before finally returns to Eddie’s living room when Hulk Hogan makes his way into the ring, the show demanding the attention from both of you. You spend most of the match completely enthralled, passing the small handle back and fourth between each other. You don’t notice with the match having you both on the edge of your seat, also had you drink almost half the bottle. You definitely don’t notice how Eddie grips your knee every time there’s a close count out.

When Hulk Hogan finally gets Randy Savage to tap out Eddie’s grip on your knee is released as he stands up to whoop loudly, raising his fist in the air. His actions make his Iron Maiden shirt ride up slightly giving you a small glimpse of the happy trail on his stomach. The universe was definitely testing you tonight.

“What a fuckin’ match!” Eddie’s ecstatic when he turns around to look at you. His doe eyes are glossy and slightly blood shot, a result of the cheap liquor.

“Yeah, that was wild! The way that he picked him up and slammed him down like it was nothing?!” You can’t help but match his happiness when you finally gather the words to speak, Eddie and the whiskey making your brain fuzzy.

“You think I could do that? Like pick someone up like that?” He’s flexing his arm squeezing the muscle on his shoulder to try and gauge his physical abilities that way. You didn’t mean to laugh at him but you couldn’t stop it from bubbling out of your chest.

His brown eyes snap to you on the couch head thrown back gripping your stomach to try and regain control of yourself. Maybe if tears weren’t welling up in the corner of your eyes you would have noticed him position himself in front of you. It wasn’t until you felt the heat of his breath fan across your face that you opened your eyes enough to see him towering over you. His hands resting on either side of your hips on the couch caging you in.

“Are you laughing at me?” While the smirk on his face was menacing the look in his eyes show you slight nervousness. Almost enough to make you feel like maybe being this close has the same effect on him. You finally let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“Why I would never! It’s completely believable for you to have the same athletic abilities as the WWF superstars Eddie.” Sarcasm is dripping from your words and his eyes narrow at you. The gesture makes your thighs press together.

You can feel his hands slowly make their way from the couch cushion before the heat of them are against your thighs. The squeeze he gives them is so gentle that your almost don’t know if it’s your imagination.

“You’re gonna regret those words pretty girl.”

Fuck. Pretty girl? Again?

Before you can react his grip tightens at the dip of your knees, and your being lifted off the couch. You knew Eddie was strong always having to watch him and Garett interrupt band practices with their impromptu play fights after taunting each other all day, but you didn’t think he was pick you up like a rag doll strong. The new knowledge goes straight between your legs.

You can’t help but squeal when you feel weight less for a second as he gives you a gentle toss up hooking his arms under your knees causing your legs to dangle on either side of his shoulders. His eyes are level with your stomach, the bottoms your breasts brush lightly against his forehead as your lean forward for balance, your fingers gripping into his waves for dear life.

“This isn’t TV Eddie, you need to put me down!” You try to sound serious but the uncontrollable laughter leaving your mouth doesn’t exactly sell it for you.

“Eddie The Banished has over zealous newcomer right where he wants her.” Eddie’s doing his best announcer voice as you feel his legs start to move you two towards the direction of his room. “It looks like yet again y/n’s mouth wrote a check her ass can’t cash.”

“I’m gonna beat your ass for real Eddie if you don’t put me down.” You tug at his hair a little harder to try and get his attention. When his eyes meet yours from between your legs you’re not prepared for the view from this angle, your body’s natural response to push your thighs together is stopped by his iron clad grip. You see something you couldn’t put your finger on flash over his face when he feels the movements of your legs and your cursing yourself for not having better control.

You don’t realize your falling until your back hits his mattress hard, almost knocking the air out of your lungs. Eddie’s laughing from between your legs, arms still loosely wrapped around just above your knees, his warm cheek is pressed against the smooth skin of your thigh. Your heart swelling at the pure joy that’s radiating off of him in this moment. You wanted to bottle it up and keep it for yourself for a rainy day.

“You almost killed us Munson, are you happy with yourself?” The smile on your own face threatening to break you in half.

He doesn’t move from his position after his laughter subsides, his grip on your legs tightening slightly before he responds.

“You know the maid didn’t clean my room today.” Referring to the combat boot he tripped on there’s a light tint of pink on his cheeks and your fingers twitch wanting to reach out.

That’s when you see the opportunity you couldn’t resist having positioned himself perfectly to use your favorite finishing move on him. His eyes go wide when he sees your thighs start to close in on his neck. He try’s to catch them before he can be trapped in but he’s too late.

“In a turn of events Eddie The Banished has been pinned by so called over zealous newcomer will he do the self respectful thing and tap out?” Mocking his announcers voice you tighten the muscles around his neck.

Of course Eddie doesn’t give in doing his best to try and break free, thrashing his head wildly against you. You’re too busy laughing at him that you don’t realize how close his movements have positioned his face to where you had only dreamed about him touching. The place he effects you the most. It’s when his nose accidentally runs the length of your covered folds that you notice, a load moan falling from your lips.

The silence that falls between you two is deafening and you wish you could somehow disappear into his mattress. When you go to release your hold on him his hands grip tighter to your thighs keeping them where they are, his nose runs along your length again this time with more pressure then before.

“Eddie.” Your voice is shaky when is comes out still trying to figure out if this was really happening or not, but then he does it again and your body shudders making you realize this isn’t a dream.

“Sweetheart, are you making a mess of your shorts for me?” Hearing Eddie talking to you like this sends another wave of arousal to your core.

“Open your eyes princess.” So lost in your thoughts you hadn’t realized you closed them.

When you finally open your eyes and look down the sight makes you bite down on your bottom lip another loud moan begging to come out. He’s rested between your plush thighs, the heat of his blown out stare makes you want to squirm, his tongue darts out licking along his bottom lip just inches away from your fluttering core. You can see his hips rutting lightly into his mattress needing the friction. He looks needy.

His fingers dig deeply into your warm skin “I said is this mess all over your shorts for me?”

Eddie’s dominant tone adds to the mess that’s building inside your panties, A fantasy of yours after you saw the handcuffs in his room. You’re mad that you’ve deprived yourself of the sight in front of you for so long, you don’t think you’ve ever been this turned on.

“Yes, Eddie.” Your voice is barely above a whisper.

“Yes what?” He’s not happy with your simple answers having thought about this moment himself for years. He runs his tongue flat along the wet spot on your shorts causing you to throw your head back and your hips push forward chasing him.

“Yes, I’m soaking through my shorts for you Eddie. I’m always wet when I’m around you.” You finally confess looking back down at him your bottom lip tucked between your teeth.

“That must’ve been really painful not being able to do anything about it huh?” He’s gentle with how he speaks but you can hear the condescending tone laced underneath it, he was getting off on how desperate you were for him. Still you can’t help it when you nod.

His finger tips trace down the length of the outside of your thighs until they hit the black denim of your shorts. They slide underneath the material squeezing tightly at the doughy flesh of your ass, groaning when he’s met with the lace trim of your panties.

“Lets get these off hm?”

Still only nodding, your voice leaving you Eddie makes quick work of the 4 metal buttons of your high waisted shorts his fingers curling around the top of them he pauses his eyes meeting yours.

“Are you sure you want to do this? You can tell me no and I’ll stop right now.”

Of course Eddie’s still making sure your comfortable, even seconds away from getting your pants off. You were a fucking goner.

“Are you sure you want to do this Eddie? I don’t think I can go back to normal after this.” You finally say wishing you could read his mind.

“I thought it was obvious.” He’s smiling so hard you can see the dimples in his cheeks “I’ve had a crush on you ever since you and your mom moved into the trailer park three years ago. If we do this, your gonna have to move away to get rid of me.”

“What if it doesn’t work out and we ruin everything? I can’t lose you Eddie.” All the reasons you’ve fought this for so long come rushing back to you now that the haze of lust has temporarily subsided.

Eddie pushes himself up, sliding his body against yours until you are both eye level with each other, still nestled between your legs. Propping himself up with one arm, his fingers reach out to brush the stray hairs from your worried face.

“I’ll always be here for you, even if life somehow fucks us up. I’ll never be able to stay away. Not for long.” the look in his eyes is so sincere that it almost brings tears to yours. “I love you.” He says the last part so quiet that you almost don’t hear it.

“I love you too Eddie, I always have.” Your confession comes out in a whisper and you can’t help but take his face in your hands crashing your lips into his. Finally giving into all of those years you fought against it. He doesn’t hesitate moving his lips against yours, his tongue begging for entrance licking at your bottom lip. Quickly granting him access you both moan into the kiss as it deepens. Both of you taking advantage of this opportunity to explore every inch of each other’s mouths trying to memorize exactly how it feels, Neither one of you wanting to forget any detail about this moment.

When you finally break away to catch your breath he makes quick work of the slope of your neck dragging with his wet lips across your skin, licking and biting at the soft flesh addicted to the sounds he elicits from you.

Your hands find their way to the bottom of his shirt, tugging gently silently begging for him to take it off. He sucks hard onto the sensitive spot behind your ear before pushing him self up on his knees. You watch with baited breath as his fingers curve under the hem up his shirt slowly dragging it up and over his wild curls. The view is even better then you could have ever imagined. His chest was smooth till it hit the happy trail you had gotten a glimpse of earlier and wanted to follow it, the demon head tattoo you had only ever seen the one time he flashed it to you at Hellfire was clear as day now. His pick necklace hanging above the dip of his neck. Pushing yourself up slightly you don’t stop yourself from reaching out this time, running your finger tips over the toned muscles of his abdomen watching them flex under your touch. Your nails drag through the rough hairs of his happy trail and it makes him suck his bottom lip between his teeth closing his eyes at the sensation.

“You’re so handsome Eddie.” You can’t help yourself as you eyes hungrily take in all the newly exposed parts of him.

When his eyes open there’s a look of adoration that dances inside them, he reaches out to cup your cheek in his hand, the cool of his rings biting into your hot skin.

“It’s your turn now pretty girl” His smile is gentle when his hand leaves you to join the other at the bottom of your shirt pulling it up. Eddie takes in an audible breath when he sees the black lace bra, he knows that it must match the lace he felt wrapped around your ass.

“Lace set y/n? Are you sure your plan wasn’t to seduce me tonight?” He can’t help but arch an eyebrow at you his grin turning lopsided.

Red takes over your neck and cheeks, you wouldn’t dare tell him that you made sure to wear a matching set anytime you knew you’d be alone with him. Despite your personal protests, you never wanted to not be prepared in case it ever happened. And now sitting here in front of him, you don’t regret your choices at all.

“Last time I checked you’re the one who wanted ‘wrestle’” you give him air quotes dodging his question.

Chuckling to himself Eddie shakes his head at you, his bangs falling messily in his face.

“Shut up, I’m trying to get you naked.” He teases pulling you against his chest, Taking advantage you start peppering your own open mouth kisses along the nape of his neck. His fingers tips brush against your back as he makes work of your bra clasps. Once he has them unhooked they ghost up your spine before gliding up to your straps, he takes his time pulling them down the curve of your shoulder. Bending down as he plants a soft kisses where the straps rested. His hair tickling the side of your cheek, you can feel how hard he is under his jeans.

“Let me see you.” His voice is low next to your ear and it makes you shiver.

You push yourself away from him leaving just enough space between you two for him to get a clear view as your bra falls away from you. Suddenly feeling vulnerable in nothing but your unbuttoned shorts, you’ve never been this exposed to Eddie. You can’t help but feel self conscious under his gaze as he greedily takes you in.

“Fuck - Sweetheart.” He lets out a loud breath through his nose. “Have you seen yourself in a mirror? Fucking perfect.”

Eddie’s words overwhelm you.

“Eddie, please just touch me. I need you.” Your voice shakes when you reach out for his hands bringing them to your breasts, your nipples hardening instantly under his touch.

His eyes close tightly when he feels how your body reacts to him a low growl leaving his chest. When his eyes open they are completely black and you can feel yourself dripping down your thigh, pressing them together desperate for some relief. Your words causing a shift in his demeanor.

“You need me huh baby?” His voice comes out like a purr as he bends down to capture one of your pert nipples in his mouth.

“Shit- Eddie!” You gasp as his tongue swirls around the hard bud before taking it between his teeth, your hands are buried in his hair holding him closer. When he’s finally satisfied with both he lets the one he’s working on fall from his mouth with a loud pop. His big doe eyes are almost unrecognizable when they meet yours, he looks like he’s ready to devour you and you can’t help the shudder that runs deep through your body. His hard on looks painful pressed against the zipper of his jeans and all you want to do is help him. Reaching out you cup the swollen bulge with one of your small hands, making him close his eyes at contact. He’s rock hard. A surge of confidence fills you knowing that you were the reason for how fucked out he was right now.

“Who’s got you so hard baby?” Its your turn to indulge in his torture.

He doesn’t give you any time to answer, grabbing your hips harshly twisting you around. With your back against his chest you can feel just how labored his breathing his. With out warning he ruts himself into your ass so hard you have to grab ahold of his bed frame in front of you to keep your balance a needy moan falling from your lips. You wanted him so bad.

His fingers dig into your sides begging to bruise your soft flesh pulling you flush against him, his lips trace down the shell of your ear and it makes you shiver.

“You know who’s got me this hard. Those fucking shorts had me readjusting all night.” His right had leaves its place on your hip and finds it way into your pants pushing past your underwear his fingers trace up your soaking entrance, his middle finger dipping lightly into your hole and you can’t help but flutter around him.

“Fuck, she wants me so bad she’s trying to suck me in pretty girl.” You can feel the proud smirk against your skin. “And she’s so fucking wet.”

You were starting to get impatient with how slow he was going, your body almost in pain with how turned on you were. Reaching behind, you do your best to undo the button of his jeans, when you succeed you shove desperately trying to get to what you want so badly. His hands are quick to leave their spot from teasing your entrance to grab your wrists, his grip is tight.

“Don’t just grab at me, use your words.” His tone I commanding and it adds to your desperation.

“I need you to fuck me Eddie. Please just fuck me.” The last part comes out as a whine and if you weren’t so lost in him you’d want to slap yourself for sounding so needy.

“Good girl, was that so hard?” You can feel the cockiness radiating off of him as you hear the jingles of his chains still giving you what you want shimmying out his pants. The weight of his dick hits the small of your back pre cum wetting your skin at contact. Your grip on his bed frame tightens a whimper leaving your mouth as you push yourself back against him needing more.

“Needy aren’t you?” He’s taunting as he nips at the skin of your shoulder blades, his hands making quick work of your shorts before he’s leaning back. “I just wanted to see these panties first pretty girl. You wear these for me?” All you can do is whimper pressing your thighs together tightly trying to relive some of the pressure against your swollen clit.

His fingers knead the fat of your ass cheek before spanking lightly testing the waters.

“I asked you a question. Did you wear these for me?” His lips are against your ear again and your feel him finally start to push the lace down your hips.

“Yes.” You bite your lip ready to confess to him what you swore you wouldn’t. “I wear them every time we hang out...just” You can’t finish your answer when you feel two of his fingers dip into you without warning. Your head falls back against his shoulder a loud moan echoing through his room as you feel yourself griping tightly at the slow motion of his fingers. He pushes them even deeper and you can feel the metal of his rings at your entrance, your mouth hanging open in a silent scream. He was so deep.

“Just what? Just in case you let me fuck you sweet heart? That’s so fucking cute.” He chuckles darkly in your ear removing his fingers from their place inside of you to draw figure eights on your swollen nub and your eyes roll in the back of your head.

Your grab of his hands stopping his motions tired of his teasing, you waited too long for this.

Twisting around you push with enough force to knock him on his back, the view of his hard on is even more intimidating from this angle. Eddie’s shocked expression immediately turns hungry when he sees you kick of your panties completely, he can see how wet you are from here. Its almost a reflex when he reaches out to wrap his fingers around himself for relief. A hiss leaving his mouth, sensitive to his own touch but his eyes never leave yours.

Crawling up him you let the tip of his cock run down the length of you before you rest yourself perching at his tip and it makes him throw his head back with his bottom lip tugged tight between his teeth a mental image he never wants to forget.

“Looks like I’m the one who pinned you Eddie The banished.” His eyes snap up at your words and before he can protest you take him in, completely bottom out.

“Jesus-fuck” Eddie screams, his fingers grabbing harshly to your waist, there’s a light sting of pain at his size but when you feel him twitch inside you it sends another wave of arousal through you coating him even more as you start to rock your hips. You hands are spread across his chest and you have a perfect view of his fucked out expression, his mouth is slightly open, eyebrows furrowed together in concentration and his eyelids heavy with lust.

“You feel so good Eddie. So big. So full.” Your hands leave his chest so you can move faster, his tip hitting your sweet spot and you’ve waited long enough to cum.

“You gonna cum princess?” His tone sounds sweet when he asks you and all you can do is nod feeing your self getting dangerously close to falling off the cliff you’d be climbing.

In the blink of an eye your high is ripped away from you, Eddie grabbing your hips firmly pulling himself out of you. Flipping you over Eddie rests himself between your spread legs his hard cock resting against your entrance. His pink mushroom tip hits your clit with every breath he takes and it makes you rock hips against him desperate to find your orgasm again.

“Over zealous new comer yet again gets herself into trouble with her smart mouth. Eddie The banished is in for the pin.”

Your eyes widen at realization of this words and just like you did to him he doesn’t give you anytime to answer before he’s bottoming out inside of you. Your scream is silent as he some how feels even bigger from this angle. Feeling generous Eddie gives you a minute before he pushes himself back up on his knees, hooking his arms under your thighs lifting your bottom half up with him. You are completely at his mercy from this position and you can feel your walls tighten around him again in anticipation.

“Will she do the respectable thing and tap out?” He arches and eye brow at you slowly twirling his hips and it feels so good.

Meeting Eddies’s eyes you push your hips up into him taking him deeper and it makes his eyes roll in the back of his head. “I’m not fucking tapping out, so why don’t you fuck me?”

You swear you hear him growl at your words, his grip tightening around your thighs as he begins thrusting into you hard and deliberate your tits hitting your chin with every stroke.

“Such a dirty fuckin’ mouth pretty girl. I’m gonna make you cum harder then you ever have and then you’ll learn to challenge me.” One of his hands reaches between your legs, his fingers find your clit and it makes your head fall back a low moan falling form your lips as his thrusts continue to hit that sweet spot inside of you once again.

Between his fingers working your swollen nub and the deep strokes of his cock you could feel the coil start to tighten in your stomach again. The only word you knew was his name, it’s the only thing that left your mouth as he continued never slowing down.

“Look at me, I wanna see your eyes when you cum, I can tell your close baby. Cover me, tell everyone who’s making you feel this good. Fuck all I’ve ever wanted was to see you cum.” Eddie’s words are dunk with lust as he watches your green eyes open and meet his. Your walls are sucking him in as you can feel yourself start to fall apart at his words.

“Fuck Eddie, I’m cumming.” You gasp as his tip hits at a slightly different angle, your mouth falls open as you watch his dark eyes hungrily devour you as your orgasm washes over you. The feeling of you coming undone around him makes Eddie’s orgasm dangerously close behind you, his thrusts getting sloppier as your walls continue to flutter around him.

“Shit- I’m gonna cum.” You can feel his grip loosen around your thighs to get ready to pull out and you clamp your legs around his arms so he can’t move still milking him, his eyes go wide at your actions

“I said I’m gonna cum, Shit-fuck I can’t stop.” His words come out as a whine as his eyes close tight his cock twitching inside of you before he’s painting your walls with himself. You don’t think you’ll ever get enough of this feeling, thankful for birth control. Eddie’s body finally collapses on top of you still not daring to pull himself out, you both lay there for a second catching your breaths, with your arms wrapped around him you enjoy the feeling of being connected. Something about it makes you feel complete, like there was a piece of you that he held and you didn’t know how bad you needed it until now.

When Eddie finally breaks away from you he’s propping himself up on his forearms so he’s eye level with you, there’s a shit eating grin on his face and you know he’s about to ruin this moment.

“So I definitely won that match.”

You roll your eyes so hard you think they might get stuck in the back of your head.

“It was a no contest match sorry.” Your snort pushing him away but he doesn’t budge.

“Well, good thing your spending the night. I’m demanding a rematch, this is the beginning of a long feud pretty girl, I hope your ready.” Eddie’s still grinning as he bends down to capture your lips. The feeling of Eddie still inside of you and the love he was trying to convey to you in the way his lips moved against yours, you’re glad you didn’t have to fight it anymore because honestly it’s even better then you could of ever dreamed

[spaceprincessem]

you and i'll be safe and sound | 50k buddie fic | ao3 link

[or the buddie hunger games au]

“That was very brave,” Josh says and Eddie is startled by how genuine he sounds. “What’s your name?”

“Eddie Diaz.” He hears himself say, his voice carrying over the hushed and horrified crowd.

“Well, Eddie,” Josh says, “was that your brother?”

“Nephew.” Eddie manages.

“How sweet,” Josh squeezes his shoulder and Eddie feels like he wants to crawl out of his fucking skin, “how about we give Eddie a nice big round of applause?”

Eddie watches as the crowd all kiss their three middle fingers before raising them to the sky. An old and rarely used gesture of their district, occasionally seen at funerals. 

It means thanks, it means admiration, it means goodbye to someone you love. Eddie can’t stop the lone tear from falling out of the corner of his eye. 

Everything slips out of focus as Josh moves to call out another name. His head feels like it’s stuffed with cotton wool. Another name. Another person Eddie is either going to have to out live or kill in order to survive. 

Eddie’s hunted animals before, but he knows that doesn’t compare to this. To taking another life in front of the entire country as a pawn in a game he doesn’t want to play. He thinks it’s a miracle he doesn’t vomit on stage.

“Our second tribute from District Twelve is Evan Buckley.”

Eddie’s eyes snap up and he’s pretty fucking sure his heart stops beating all together. If he lets his eyes flutter close he can feel the patter of rain, harsh and ice cold, against his skin. The way the air saturates with the smell of burnt bread.

He can see the shape of a boy thrown out into the mud, hands cradling something precious in his hand. The way that bundle was placed in Eddie’s own, shaking palms as a voice whispered, I’m so sorry I can’t do more before he was gone. 

But Eddie doesn’t let his eyes close. He watches as Evan Buckley — Buck, please just call me Buck — ascends the stairs to take his place next to Eddie. 

Not you. Please. Anyone, but you.

Eddie is struck by how much Buck’s eyes remind him of Christopher. So wide and blue and beautiful. Eddie wants to scream. He wants to tear every building apart, brick by fucking brick, with his bare hands. He wants to burn down the Capitol. He wants to cry. He selfishly wants the person standing across from him to be anyone, anyone, except Buck or Christopher. 

No, Eddie thinks as Josh tells them to shake hands, the odds are not in my favor today.

Buck’s hand is soft and warm and fits perfectly in Eddie’s. Buck looks at him with such devastation Eddie isn’t sure how they haven’t both shattered into little, tiny pieces. Because there are two things Eddie knows for certain now that he and Buck are in this together.

He will have to kill Buck to get back home.

Or Buck will have to kill him. 

And that, Eddie thinks, will break him for good. 

read the rest on ao3

tagging everyone that showed interest @alyxmastershipper @shortsighted-owl @ebdaydreamer @spotsandsocks @mysteriouslyyounggalaxy @heartbeatdiaz @elvensorceress @colonoscopys @buddierights @cowboy-buddie @prince-buck-diaz @slowlyfoggydestiny @loveyourownsmiilee @thebestbooksaround @too-precious-for-this-worldd @tails89 @thekristen999 @wildlife4life

[talesofesther]

all that love ever taught me - part 2

Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Eddie has loved you for a long while, and slowly, he's trying to show you just how much.

A/N: Hope you enjoy this high dose of cuteness.

Masterlist | Read Part 1 here

What Eddie lacked in courage, you had plenty in stubbornness.

After the pitiful ending to that rainy day, Eddie was starstruck to find you waiting for him on that same brick wall beside the school doors the next day;

He would recognize you from a mile away, leaning back on the wall, backpack laid between your feet, and a bright smile on your lips as soon as you saw him.

Eddie didn't know what to do with himself, his own skin suddenly felt hot and prickly, because you were walking up to him, arms open in an invitation so tempting yet so dangerous.

"Hey ange-" he couldn't finish, his words were muffled by your jacket because you trapped him in a hug, fingers disappearing in his hair as his own arms encircled your waist, carefully, as if you'd break in his hold.

The hug ended quickly and Eddie was partially glad for it, because he had stopped breathing the moment you were less than a meter away from him. His eyes were fixated on you, a soft frown on his eyebrows while he waited for the punchline, for the ulterior motive to your affection.

It never came, all you did was ramble on about; 'where were you, silly? I've been waiting for fifteen minutes, we're almost late for class'.

Eddie could feel his eyes stinging, tears that he desperately gulped back were pooling on the bottom lid of his eyes.

You were too good for him, but he'd be damned if he wouldn't make himself worthy of you.

_

That decision was made two weeks ago, and since then Eddie has hardly left your side. He'd carry your backpack around and give you a ride home even if it wasn't raining; he'd sit beside you in class and make you laugh whenever you had a bad day or were bored; he'd leave a little note on your locker almost every day, sometimes there wasn't even anything written on it, just a rough sketch of you through his eyes. And sometimes, when he was feeling brave, he'd take hold of your hand when walking around the school.

He didn't have the courage to put into words what he truly felt for you, but he could only hope his actions spoke for him.

Today, Eddie dragged his feet on the empty school hallways, he had a scowl on his face, pouting as a little kid would. His backpack dragged on the floor as he halfheartedly held one of the straps.

Most teachers are not fond of seeing a student using the lunchroom tables for a catwalk. Eddie was always careful to avoid the vultures. But when one's focused on making a certain special someone laugh, old and boring adults are bound to become a blur.

It earned him some scolding and a fat free pass to detention.

He opened the classroom door to find a few sorry souls almost sleeping on their seats and Mrs. Jones, the teacher responsible for keeping an eye on them; he also found you, right on the last row of chairs in the back of the class, frantically waving him over as if this was the cinema or something.

Eddie raised his hands in a 'what the hell' motion, a comically dumbfounded look on his face as he walked up to you after the teacher grumbled for him to take a damn seat and be quiet.

"Why the hell are you here?" He threw his backpack on top of your table and pulled a chair to sit next to you.

"What? You think I'm such a saint that I can't get detention once in a while?" You raised an eyebrow with a teasing smile.

Eddie snorted, he leaned his elbows on the table, trying to be subtle about wanting to be closer to you. "I just thought you were the textbook good girl type."

You bumped his shoulder with yours, "well, then you don't know me at all, Munson."

You were grinning all sweetly, hands resting on the table close to Eddie's, drawing him in as if there was a gravity field around you and he was nothing but a lonely moon. Just a flick of his fingers and he'd be touching you. "I want to," he said, voice laced with something quiet and timid, as if it was a forbidden fantasy of his, "why are you here?"

The question got you averting your gaze from his, smile faltering ever so slightly, "where's the fun in just telling you?"

"I'm terrible at guessing games, angel."

"Give me your best shot."

Eddie raised a hand to his hair, taking a few strands between his fingers and twirling as he hummed in thought. He could feel your eyes on him, piercing and unwavering.

"You talked back to a teacher?" Eddie tilted his head, chocolate brown orbs meeting your gaze. "Vandalized school property? Maybe… got caught smoking?"

You clicked your tongue, holding back a laugh at his suggestions; "tough luck."

Leaning back on his chair, Eddie lightly raised his hands in surrender; "well, I'm out."

"Afraid you'll remain curious then."

There was something off about the way you avoided telling him, Eddie could see it in the way your smile didn't reach your eyes or by the way your words took on that lower tone that had a shiver going down his back. "Come on, that's not fair."

Your hand landed on his forearm, squeezing softly, "a secret for a secret then, that fair enough for you?" You prompted with a new glint in your eyes.

Eddie chuckled, a shaky sound from the back of his throat. If you asked him to spill his darkest secrets, he would. It scared the hell out of him. He ducked his head, running his tongue over his bottom lip before he took his chance and reached for the hand you had on his arm. The touch was barely there, just his fingertips grazing yours.

"What do you wanna know, angel?"

And then Eddie heard it — because he just realized how goddamn close he was to you, shoulders brushing, noses just a few centimeters apart — the way your breathing grew shallow. He felt the way you tensed. The feeling came off of you in waves and made Eddie gulp, his eyes roaming your face as his stomach turned upside down.

"I've…" You started, and then took a breath, "I've been getting a few notes lately."

Eddie was pretty sure he was a few shades paler already.

"I always find them on my locker, and, I don't know, they make me think of you sometimes," you finished quietly with a shy smile, far away gaze in your eyes before you blinked and focused back on Eddie. "Do you know who sent them?" You asked as if you already knew the answer.

Eddie couldn't look at you, his hands started shaking and he abruptly pulled them away from you. "I uh- I don't…"

You held onto him, palm a bit smaller than his as you threaded your fingers together; "stop pulling away from me, Eddie. Please."

A low curse escaped Eddie's lips, he ran a thumb over your knuckles. His knee was going up and down, the heel of his boot thudding against the wooden floor of the classroom. "Yeah, it was me." He glanced up at you, all flushed cheeks and starry eyes. "Sorry if it… makes things weird."

Boldly as ever, the grasp you had in his hand tightened, and you brought it to your lips, planting a kiss on the back of his hand. "I look forward to them every day, you know?" Eddie felt your words on his skin, the brush of your lips taking his breath away and giving him goosebumps, "kept every single one," you finished.

Eddie turned into mush on your hold, boyish chuckle escaping him as he lowered his head to your shoulder, hiding from your eyes and curling his body toward you because he just about couldn't get enough of you. "Really?" He whispered.

You nodded, he could feel your cheek brushing his curls; "really."

With an everlasting smile, Eddie raised his head to look at you, his chest feeling all fluttery and light now that his secret was out and you liked it. "I think you owe me a secret," he hummed.

The way you dug your teeth into your lower lip caught Eddie's attention; got him thinking of an early night date and how the sweetness of a milkshake would taste on your lips.

"You know Claire? That one prissy girl from the cheer team?" You asked, voice low and just barely tuning into Eddie's ears.

"Nah," he breathed back, too drunk on you.

You stifled a chuckle, he heard it, loved the sound. "A teacher caught me dumping a cup of orange juice on her."

That had Eddie's eyes snapping to yours, his own wide open as he processed what you just said. "What- how did I miss that?"

"They had already dragged you out of the cafeteria for walking on the tables," you shrugged, then your hand held his just a tad tighter, "she was- was saying things about you… and they weren't nice."

"Oh angel," Eddie's expression deflated a little, his free hand tucking strands of hair behind your ear, "don't want you putting a target on your back 'cause of me."

"I don't care about it, Eddie," you shook your head, all fiery eyes and words buttered in some kind of affection that cut through Eddie's heart lovingly, "won't let them talk about you like that if I can do something about it."

Eddie snorted, love bringing an easy smile for him; "my own knight in shining armor."

"More like shitty armor, considering I've been caught."

Averting his eyes, Eddie watched the way your fingers traced the bumps and crannies of his rings and the scars on his fingertips. He leaned his forehead with yours, just for a second, just to know what it felt like to have you, and pulled back; "still more than what this cold heart is worthy of."

A shiver ran from Eddie's chest all the way to his toes when your warm palm came to rest on his shirt, just above the rapid thudding in his chest; "not cold," you said, and he knew you could feel the beating of it, for you, always for you.

Eddie was afraid to speak, afraid to break the spell, his gaze moved from your eyes and to your lips. The same hand you had on top of his heart, slowly traced its path up to his cheek and Eddie's breathing halted. Oh, no one ever held him like he was something precious before.

You leaned in to kiss his lips, all tender and soft, nose brushing his cheek. As if to say; you're worthy of love.

Eddie melted in your touch, his hands grasping your waist in desperation. He caught your lower lip between his own and-

"No making out in my classroom!" Mrs. Jones slapped her wooden table, hard, making both you and Eddie jump apart with a gasp and startling a few sleeping students.

You gave her a tight-lipped smile and a thumbs up. The scene had Eddie feeling all warm and fuzzy inside, he felt the crazy desire to take your hand and run away, find a tree to carve your names and a heart into, and promise to marry you in just a few years.

Raising a finger to your chin, Eddie turned you to him, and he saw it, right then and there; his happy ending gazing back at him with a goofy grin and looking as pretty as a picture. "Angel, will you go out with me?" He breathed, hope dripping from each syllable.

"Took you long enough, Munson"

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are very much appreciated. <3

Find extra stories for this universe here, just search for the ones under the "all that love ever taught me" title.

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[thefreakymunson]

eddie munson x touchstarved!reader and the reader is always worried that they’re being too clingy and he’ll break up with them because of how affectionate they are, but he assures them its alright , tysm!! 🫶🏼🖤

Oooo i love this as a clingy girl! Haha

"I think we need to talk," Eddie's voice came in clear behind you as you stood at your locker. You jumped a bit and turned to look at him, his face void of all emotion as he stared down at you.

You swallowed harshly at the implications of his tone and nodded, "What's up?"

"Meet me at our spot for lunch?" He chewed nervously on his bottom lip.

You took a long shaky breath in and nodded, giving him a small smile as he bent down and kissed your forehead. He turned on his heels and walked back down the hallway, bandana swinging from his back pocket as he disappeared into the throngs of students.

Next period felt like it took years to get through. Your heart raced as you walked out past the football field and to the familiar path that lead to the lone picnic table you had spent so many weeks sitting at with your boyfriend. The faint smell of tobacco filled the air as you walked closer, telling you that Eddie was already there waiting for you. You felt the bile rising up in your throat and you could feel your heartbeat in your ears. You were so scared that this was going to be the end of your relationship.

"Hey," you said softly, walking over to sit down across from him.

"You've barely talked to me these past three days and all I get is a 'hey.'" He snorted, "What is this? What's going on, Y/N? 'Cuz this ain't us."

"Nothing's going on, Eds." You mumbled, shrugging sheepishly.

"Don't - Don't lie to me, Y/N." He sighed, closing his eyes and shaking his head, biting his bottom lip as he took a moment to calm himself down, "You don't love me anymore?"

Your eyes widened incrediously as you looked over at him. How could he think that when he was all you thought about?

"Of course I do, Eddie." You frowned.

"Then what is this?" He looked at you with such emotions in his big brown eyes that you felt your heart shatter at the thought that you could've possibly hurt him, "I don't like it being this way between us. I could used to hold your hand at least-"

"I heard Dustin and the guys talk about how clingy I was." You blurted out, looking just past his head, unable to to see that look in his eyes again.

Eddie's head tilted to the side as he watched the tears well up in your eyes. He reached over and tucked a rogue strand of hair behind your ear, wiping away the single tear that fell down your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

"And...and..." you cursed yourself silently for crying.

"And what, baby?" His voice was soft and caring, much different than the harsh tone he had earlier today.

"You didn't tell them to shut up like you normally do." You sighed, "I just...I got scared that maybe I was being too clingy and too affectionate. I don't want to annoy you is all."

"Baby, that doesn't annoy me at all. What annoys me is when you act like I don't even exist." Eddie sighed as he got up and walked around to sit beside of you, "These past three days have been awful for me, Y/N."

He cupped your chin and turned your head to face him, bending forward and kissing your lips softly. You could still taste the tobacco on his breath as he slid closer to you, pressing himself as close as possible.

"I don't give a shit about what Henderson or Wheeler or any of them have to say about how much time we spend together." He said, two fingers under your chin to make you look him in the eyes, "I don't care about what anyone has to say. I like that you touch me so much. I like it when you sit on my lap or hold my hand. I love it, actually. I don't want you to stop."

"You don't think I'm too clingy?" You asked, voice trembling as you looked into his eyes.

"Not one single bit," he said, "Stop crying or you're going to make me cry...and for gods sake, hold my fuckin' hand."

You laughed despite your tears and threaded your fingers into his, the cool metallic feeling of his rings feeling so familiar and welcoming. He used his other arm to wrap tightly around your waist and pulled you in for a tight hug. He nuzzled his nose against the top of your head and took a slow, deep breath in, the scent of your shampoo easing his nerves already.

[mysticmunson]

lone star, part two

summary: eddie had packed up his things and moved to the big city, indianapolis, but when he enters the fast-growing world of the adult entertainment industry, it gets lonely.

rating: R

warnings: smut, filmed sexual acts, drinking, smoking

authors note at the end :)

word count: 7k

Simple and sweet.

The words entrenched themselves in Eddie’s brain as he got ready the next morning, making sure his hair looked nice and even wearing blue jeans rather than his typical black ones. This was his chance to prove he could be marketable as a boy next door, not just used in obscure films that, even though he loved, were limiting him. Plus a chance to make things up with you.

“Woah. First off, I thought you didn’t work today. Second, whose pants are those? If they’re mine, I swear to God, Munson-” Robin rambled, a half eaten donut in her hand as she sat in her work uniform with Steve at the table. Eddie walked past them to grab a pastry for himself, walking back in with a mouthful of food.

“They’re mine, sweetheart.” He remarked condescendingly, earning a certain finger from her as Steve laughed, taking another sip of his coffee. “But Bill called last night, wants me to do a shoot today, have to be there at 9.”

They nodded, continuing to eat their meals in peace as the clock ticked closer to 8:30. Noticing the time, he scarfed down the remaining bites and quickly went to the bathroom. He brushed his teeth extra long (even using mouthwash for good measure), fluffed his hair, and put on his rings. He felt a little odd wearing a plain black t-shirt, blue jeans and his white sneakers, but it was just another aspect of his profession.

Playing the part.

The nervous jitters he felt transcended down the highway and into the studio building, walking in 5 minutes to 9. Fiddling with the rings on his fingers, he scanned his surroundings for Bill, Rich, or you. 

“Eddie!” Bill exclaimed, making him spin until he caught the older man’s eyes, body poking through his office door and summoning him closer. “You’re lookin’ sharp, buddy.”

“Thanks man.” Eddie snickered, patting his shoulder as he walked in, seeing the other two people he was searching for there. Giving a quick wave and a smile, which you returned while Rich did an upward head nod. 

Leaning against the wall, Eddie watched as Bill looked through the papers on his desk, the leather chair squeaking as he leaned forward. The rustling of papers disrupted the consistent tapping of Rich’s nails against the arm of the chair. You sat silent, hands in your lap as you looked down at your nails painted with a white strip at the top.

“Alrighty, so we need a flix today, but this is last minute so there’s not much planned. What do you have in mind?” Bill asked, looking at you as your head popped up, straightening your posture.

Sitting quietly for a moment, contemplating your options that seemed too vague to necessarily pinpoint, you made a soft hum noise.

“Well, I haven’t done anything with, like, spanking? Or choking?” You peeped, warmth rising to your cheeks despite everyone in the room seeing you spread eagle. Vocalizing your desires seemed much worse than just exhibiting them.

Eddie swears they had to have heard his stomach sink, twisting into knots as your request bounced off every crevice in his brain. Rubbing his chin and feeling the stubble, he nodded in comprehension, awaiting Bill’s response. 

Bill chuckled as he pushed his glasses up as usual, someone needed to get him a new pair. Fiddling with the sheet in his hand, he pursed his lips in a suppressed smile, glancing down at his calendar. It was barely legible with red pen scribbling and black marker crossing out to add new things.

“I like it, I think we should do a scene like that next week. But we still are determining what your first introduction will be. If we come out swinging with the more extreme stuff, we’ll lose the shock factor. Would it be alright if we did a calmer scene?” He proposed, clasping his hands in front of him as you nodded, tucking a stray hair behind your ear. 

Eddie could’ve kissed Bill at that moment, strangled him into a hug and lifted him off the ground. Ultimately, as long as it wasn’t something Eddie strongly opposed, he went with the flow. If you wanted to do a more intense scene, he would oblige, but he was relieved when it turned out to be plainer. 

“We have some leftover props from Aiden’s scene last week, could do a date night scene? Roses and shit?” Rich coughed, his deep voice catching in his voice before sipping his coffee. Bill clapped, giving a thumbs up before flickering his gaze from you to Eddie, both of you nodding.

“Alright! Meet back here in about an hour, we’ll get you all done up and start filming.” Bill stated, quickly putting it on his calendar with Rich being the first to leave. You and Eddie followed, wandering in silence to the front door, a gust of wind sounding as it opened.

Standing in silence, Eddie debated on a good starting sentence, but his mind went blank. He could ask if she was excited for the scene? But what if that sounded cocky or she wasn’t thrilled? Maybe compliment her shoes, they were a pair of black sneakers with blue laces, pretty cool. His hand played at his lip subconsciously as he leaned against the building.

“Eddie?” You called, snapping him from his trance, “Do you know of any place to grab a bite to eat? I was running late and didn’t get breakfast.” Turning towards him, he nodded, pushing himself from the wall and closer to you. The smell of his musky cologne was pleasant, different than the one he used on set previously.

“There’s a really good place a few minutes walking from here, it's a local diner.” He informed, pointing a ring clad finger in the distance, “I could take you there?”

You agreed, the two of you walking down the old sidewalk surrounded by fresh grass. The stroll was quiet, only the sounds of cars driving past and the squeak of both sets of shoes.

Eddie wanted to talk, but he was too wrapped up in his head to form anything. Everything he thought he could say was twisted into something else entirely, already seeing you storming off and begging to have the film with Steve be your introduction.

The small diner was at the corner of the block, a small set of stairs leading to the glass doors. It was empty, besides for a few miscellaneous truck drivers or construction workers who were getting a cup of coffee. 

Sitting at the table in the corner, the menu was an all-American breakfast, your mouth was watering at just the whiff of it. The clink of Eddie’s rings that tapped rhythmically against the counter, the silver rim around it reflecting his hand in abstract shapes.

“Morning, Eddie. You’re up early!” The waitress approached, notepad in hand as you both looked up. Her gray hair was pulled into a low bun with a yellow button up dress, accompanied by a black waist apron. Her eyes had subtle wrinkles, laugh lines that accentuated her soft smile, and her nails painted a pale pink.

“Morning, Veronica. Had to be at work early.” He laughed, handing her the menu, “I’ll have a coffee and the number 3.” She mumbled “Gotcha”, barely audibly, scribbling it down before facing you.

“I’ll have the number 5 please with apple juice.” You replied, handing her the flimsy plastic menu that she exchanged with a nod. She walked off into the back, the silver door swinging back and forth till it came to a halt. 

The decor was 1950s themed, checkerboard flooring with some neon signs teasing 5 cent soda. The shiny red seats at the bar were mounted to the floor, the booths matching similarly across the rest of the place. It was charming, providing a comforting feeling of home cooked meals. 

“I don’t think I’ve had the number 5 before.” Eddie spoke, your attention snapping to him as he looked at you, no clear emotion present. But then again, what kind of emotion should he be having over your choice of breakfast.

“It’s chocolate chip pancakes and bacon, don’t worry I have a toothbrush.” You jested while Veronica brought over your drinks, setting down coasters to prohibit the condensation from pooling. 

The steam from Eddie’s cup rose to his nose as he put in creamer and sugar, stirring it and watching it go to a lighter shade of brown. Pulling out the spoon, he watched the small tornado within it dissipate before taking a sip, sighing at it going down his throat.

“Don’t worry about it, once had a partner eat tuna and garlic bread before a scene.” He assured, but the small smile on his lips let you laugh, placing a hand over your mouth to regain some composure.

There were some unspoken rules in your line of work. Spending your day physically with or in someone means you need to be extra cautious on hygiene, like showering with nicer body wash or putting on extra strong deodorant. 

Even when you would film alone for solos, you took additional routes for cleanliness. There’s very few things more embarrassing than someone saying you smelled bad or were dirty when you were intending to be clean.

Eating tuna and garlic in one sitting is a dangerous concoction by itself, but before a shoot was a whole different type of sadistic. The pair didn’t even sound appetizing, your stomach twisting at the mere concept.

“Did she hate you?” You pondered, but he only shrugged, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he took another drink. You took one as well, wiping your dampened hand on your jeans and seeing them go from medium wash to a patch of dark denim. 

“Dunno. But you’re the first adult I’ve ever seen order apple juice at a restaurant.” He pointed out, his chin resting on his knuckles looking down at your drink with confusion.

“Are you saying you don’t like apple juice?” You inquired, not being able to believe someone could dislike it. Maybe it seemed childish, but it put you at ease, caffeine would only make you more jittery. 

“Not at all, it’s great.” He grinned, tucking some of his hair behind his ear, peering over his shoulder to see Veronica returning with plates of hot food.

The chocolate chip pancakes before you smelt heavenly, a slab of butter melting on top with syrup on the side, while the bacon faintly sizzled after just coming off the grill. This alone could make you horny enough to film.

Eddie’s meal was waffles, crispy with butter and syrup, with a side of scrambled eggs and bacon. It overcrowded the blue ceramic plate, corners of it hanging off the sides, but that’s how you want homestyle food.

Thanking Veronica as she confirmed you both were set, you dug into the feast before you, falling into a more natural silence than the one on your walk. There was a small TV up on the counter playing the news, covered in static and projecting dodgy volume. 

The pancakes melted in your mouth, soft and fluffy with the hints of sweetness. An accidental moan of satisfaction rumbled from your chest, pointing your fork down at the plate for emphasis, but felt the heat rise to your cheeks.

“Glad you like it,” Eddie chuckled, “Lets just hope I’m half as good as those.” 

The rest of breakfast went smoothly, brief commentary commencing in between chewing and eyes averting to the news as it forecasted the weather or moments of good deeds in the city. It must have been a slow day.

The watch ticked on, giving you two only 15 minutes to scurry back to set. Despite your protests, Eddie paid for the meal while you weren’t paying attention, sneaking Veronica the cash underneath.

With full tummies, you walked down the sidewalk and looked at the road, now quieter as rush hour concluded. 

“Thoughts on the diner?” He peeped, glancing at you to see an initial reaction. He knew you enjoyed it, you moaned at the first bite, but it didn’t hurt to have some reassurance. 

Before you could answer, his stride halted yours, looking at him confused. He mumbled something about chocolate on your lip, swiping his thumb at the corner bringing it to his own mouth. The moment wasn’t intentional, Eddie didn’t even process his hand coming to your face, something that felt more intimate than anything thus far.

“It was wonderful, thank you again, Eddie.” You stuttered, hand pressing on your lower stomach from the outside of your green sweater as you continued to walk. He felt his cheeks warm, you didn’t say his name much, but it was nice when you did. 

Holding the door open for you, the warm air of the office forced you to scrunch your sleeves to your elbows, walking to your dressing room down the hall. A man stood inside, setting up different shades of base makeup, along with every color of eyeshadow imaginable.

Your presence wasn’t made known until the door clicked behind you, his head shooting up as he smiled. His hair was a soft blonde, a dangle earring peeking from behind the waves, with a pair of gold, thin rimmed glasses. His outfit was simple, an abstract designed button up with a white tank top exposed from the top button, and black slacks. 

“You must be Eos, I’m Henry, nice to meet you.” He introduced, extending his hand over the folding chair that you met gladly. Enchanted by his trinkets, you watched him set up in awe, slightly unable to believe he couldn’t make all of this into a makeup look.

Maybelline and Revlon were the only two brands you could list off the top of your head, but now the names of French designers and suggestive adjectives branded themselves on the bottles. He motioned for you to sit, the lightbulbs surrounding the mirror illuminating with the click of a button, buzzing for a fleeting moment.

Cold swatches of foundation stroked against your jaw as he leaned back, lips pressing together before he wiped two of them away. Picking up his choice, he pumped it on the back of his hand before painting it with a brush, blending to your hair and neck.

“How long have you been doing this?” You questioned, watching the cream blend seamlessly into your skin. 

“About two days.” He quipped without a beat, your eyes widening as your mouth popped open, “I’m kidding, about four years.”

Laughing as he grabbed the concealer, he put it under your eyes and between your eyebrows, plus over the pesky pimple on your chin. 

“Would it be appropriate to ask how long you’ve been working?” Henry asked, his voice genuine without a sliver of judgment, maneuvering the product around to cover the discolored areas.

“Working in general since I was 16, but I’ve only been doing adult… stuff for a few months. Mostly solos till this week.” You confided as he nodded, grabbing some powder to set your face.

“Must be why I haven’t seen you here before, I work on almost everyone, even did Bill’s makeup for fun once.” He revealed, making you smirk, wishing you had seen your boss covered in shades of extravagant eyeshadow. 

Leaving Henry to his work, you closed your eyes and tried to calm your nerves. No matter what job you pursued, the jitters followed, adding extra tension to your shoulder blades and back.  The successful breakfast made you hopeful of a fresh start with Eddie, but your mind taunted at the thought that it was a fluke. You couldn’t bother to care too much as the smell of pressed powder hit the apples of your cheeks.

Eddie did his typical routine of playing air guitar from his boombox, keeping it at a reasonable volume after one too many scoldings from Bill and Rich. Sneaking in a quick shot of tequila for confidence, he shook his limbs with deep huffs, looking at the popcorn ceiling above him.

His prep time was significantly shorter than his partners as he just needed to show up and get hard. If it was an abnormal day, there were stashes of raunchy magazines to get him riled up. Not only did he not want to touch them as some were older than he was, but waiting 21 years to have sex gave him a fair amount of stamina. 

The typical butterflies in his stomach appeared on schedule, noticing the black clock inching closer to showtime. Anita, the head of the costuming department, left a nice outfit hanging up with a pair of oxford on the oddly colored carpet. The pleated dress pants fit his slender legs nicely, recalling the last time he wore something decorous was to funerals, but he should probably keep that to himself. 

The freshly ironed white button up felt soft against his skin, tucking it in and rolling the sleeves to his elbows. The black ink that decorated his arms stood out even more against such a fair tone. Looking in the illuminated mirror, he adjusted every crevice he could spot before meddling with the top few buttons of his shirt.

Opting to leave the top one open, he took off his guitar pick necklace, placing it in the drawer to his left. While there was likely no one coveting the old plastic plectrum, he kept on guard as often as he could. He recalled the conversation at the diner while fetching his blue toothbrush, scrubbing extra thoroughly to avoid hypocrisy. 

The glass bottle of cologne on the shelf reached a halfway point as he coated himself, giving one spritz down his pants for extra assurance. Shoving the leather shoes on his feet, he flew open the door and grabbed it before it crashed with the wall. The hallway buzzed with chatter as scenes changed, props scattered on the floor that Eddie made sure to dodge as efficiently as he could. 

The set was pristine, looking like the bedroom of an upper middle class family, the kind Eddie used to dream of having to be able to cover his posters across the paint. The bedside table had a small lamp, illuminating the stack of books beneath it and a small jewelry dish with tangled necklaces. 

The cocoon of nerves winding tight in his belly grew firmer, his throat constricting on the blowing air conditioning. Rubbing his neck and forcing a cough, he tapped his foot against the rug placed beneath the ‘room’ set up. 

Hearing a growing bundle of voices, he turned to see Bill and Rich rambling, hands flying for emphasis and extravagance. But behind them was you and Henry, linked arms to keep your feet steady in the tall heels. 

Your hair was done casually, falling to your back in curls against your bare shoulders. The black dress had thin straps and a heart shaped neckline that accentuated your bust before flowing to your midthigh. Bidding Henry farewell, you walked further onto the soundstage and closer to Eddie. 

The heels were blisters waiting to happen, rubbing at your ankle and big toe in an uncomfortable way. Despite this, you adored your outfit, feeling grateful that Henry had vetoed the first dress Anita brought that was a vibrant pink with black stripes. 

“Hey Eddie.” You approached him, smiling beneath your rosy red lipstick that would soon litter his skin. 

“Hey.” He spoke, voice quieter than it had been just an hour earlier, but as your lips parted to check in, it was time to set up. 

The plot was simple enough. You were a couple that just got back from stellar date night, one where sex isn’t on your mind as you drive or as you walk in your house. However when the lights to the bedroom flicker on, there’s something boiling beneath both of you as you want to prove how much adoration you have for one another. 

Scenes like this could be more intimidating than intense ones. Instead of the power dynamics being physical, like being tied or gagged, this was emotional. To be convincing, you have to play the part as well as you can, that having sex wasn’t just to come, but to be so close to someone you feel within your bones already. 

“Sorry, excuse me.” Eddie mumbled, escaping the group to walk to his dressing room, closing the door quickly. Rich and Bill gave each other a look of confusion, before Rich took the initiative to set up the camera. 

Filming Bill was a frantic mess, leaving everyone in his path frazzled, just like always. With panic in his eyes, he wordlessly noted this wasn’t like Eddie, and you knew that. With careful steps, you neared his wooden door.

A flashback to your first encounter flickered in your brain, hesitating your fist until you eventually caved. A muffled ‘Yeah?’ was barely audible, but it gave you enough of a warrant to enter, slowly pushing it to anticipate any refusal.

Eddie didn’t know what was wrong with him. His stomach felt like it was getting wrung out, contorting into shapes as his chest felt heavy. The overstimulation of voices, bodies, and objects infiltrated every one of his senses, believing he could even taste the words leaving anothers mouth. 

Not even registering his departure, he somehow made it to his room, much quieter and subtle.. The thing he couldn’t escape was his body, despite the exchange of environment, it still felt constrained. Rubbing his hands against his face, he paced as he plotted some way to feign serenity for just an hour. 

Picking at his nails, he replied to the knock with little thought, not looking up as the person had fully stepped in.

“Eddie, you okay?” You questioned, guiding the handle back until it clicked shut. He released a forceful huff, running a hand through his long hair. 

“Yeah, sorry, I don’t know, I just feel kinda off. My chest and stomach feel tight.” He affirmed, still looking at his shoes and shoving his fists in his pockets. He familiarized himself with the inner stitches, the way the miniscule thread bound such material together, the inner to the outer layers. 

Cautiously taking a step forward, he tilted his head to meet your line of sight as you showed concern. Your eyes were much more tender than the ones he saw under the harsh stage lights, the mellow aura of the room at the moment made your feature appear softer. 

Soft hands cradled his face, thumbs running across the lines of his cheeks, putting just a hint of pressure that miraculously made him placid. Inching north, the application on the exterior creases of his eyes made them flutter shut as he took a hefty breath. Your fingers crawled closer as you rubbed between his eyebrows, sliding them back down to cradle his face. 

“Where did you learn that?” Eddie questioned, feeling more relaxed than he had in days, the taut muscles causing him aches were weightless. 

“My mom used to do that to me when I’d get fidgety, I did it to my younger sister when she was upset. Must be magic.” You smiled, relieved that the close contact wasn’t awkward and welcomed, watching his cheeks flush to a natural hue. “I’ll give you a second to get ready.”

He watched as you walked away, closing the door quietly with the patter of heels following. He could still feel the tender caress against his face, the pads of your fingers skimming his scruff and the scar between his eyebrows after he hit a swingset as a kid. 

Sitting on the edge of his chair, he took controlled breaths, finding a proper headspace for the scene. He needed to be gentle, but passionate. Everyone in that room needed to be convinced that they had made love millions of times prior, knowing the other's body as well as they know their own. He thought back to the first time he met you, how you moaned against his lips when he gripped your thighs and tugged at his hair when his tongue flickered over your breasts. 

With his pants feeling tighter, he hopped up just in time as everyone rushed to assemble the finishing touches. Your hair was being sprayed once more, thanking the stylist and walking to the edge of the stage. Eddie went up beside you, standing shoulder to shoulder, observing how each and every aspect needed to be just right.

“Thanks by the way.” He interrupted, putting his hands behind his back and clasping them. 

“Anytime.” You teased, but you knew you would actually do it if he asked, especially with those button eyes. Shutting the prop door in front of the two of you, Eddie held it still in fear it would fall on top of you.

With the finishing touches, it was time to start. The slate was filled out for scene one, take one as Bill and Rich called their cues for sound and filming. With a snap of plastic, Rich’s voice boomed over the room as it fell silent, “Action!”

Eddie opened the door, allowing you to walk in first, following the instructions given. You were to walk in first, giving the camera a chance to scan your body, and give the scene a quiet moment before everything began. Time was given to observe Eddie as he shut the door and approached you narrowly.

“That restaurant was really good, tonight was so fun.” You professed, turning cautiously and flipping your hair over your shoulder. 

“I’m glad, but is tonight already over?” He questioned with the corner of his lips turning up, arms snaking around your waist, pulling you closer. You could feel the outside of his trousers, pressing into your lower stomach.

You shrugged, putting your hands behind his neck, fiddling with the collar. With your lip between your teeth, you furrowed your eyebrows together in faux thought. He looked at you expectantly, the lack of a script was making him overthink any hesitation in your speech, but you hadn’t given him a reason to worry yet. 

“I don’t know, you didn’t get me dessert.” You pouted, pressing your chin to his chest, looking up at him. Laughing boisterously, his head tilted back as his Adam's apple bobbed, shaking his head as if he simultaneously couldn’t believe, but expected the rebuttal.

A firm hand smacked then grabbed your ass, making you squeal as he lifted you up, arms shifting below your bottom. The giggles were genuine as he walked towards the bed, slouched over his shoulder and bright lights blinding any surroundings. 

“Put me down!” You yelp, putting a firm hand on his own butt that was now in arms reach. He jolted, making a tsk noise, dropping you onto the bed and bouncing up. 

“You’re gonna regret that.” He teased, straddling over you as he unbuttoned his shirt. Propping to your elbows, you watched in amusement as he struggled to get them undone with his thick fingers, tongue poking out in concentration. 

Sitting up, your smaller fingers were able to undo them efficiently, but you indulge in his body in front of you. Running a hand against his stomach, a hint of hair above his belt buckle made you warm, pressing a kiss above his belly button while pulling the shirt from his pants. 

Dramatically flinging it off for comedic effect, you began the examination of his belt. Pulling the leather through the metal buckle, it made a satisfying sound as it dragged against the fabric and falling to the floor. The noise alone made your thighs clench, 

As you went for his pants, he grabbed your hands in one of his as the other tilted your head up. He looked angelic with his face flushed, hair surrounding him like a halo, the bright lights solidifying his cherubic status. Even his chocolate curls reminded you of the Renaissance paintings of small angels carrying harps.

“As much as I love this, I’d like to see a lot less clothes on you.” He jested, sliding his warm hands beneath your thighs to push it upward. There was a slight malfunction as he couldn’t get it off your shoulders in one go, eventually shimmying it off and leaving you in just a thong.

He laughed in a sharp breath, leaning back with his hands perched on his waist, looking down at you. The stance was meant to be sexy, giving him and Rich a second to observe you with pert nipples and lacy panties. He looked more dominant for some obscure reason, despite the scene being fairly common, it was the essence that dripped from him like honey. 

Leaning down to meet your lips, you cupped his jaw, tasting the mint toothpaste on his tongue mixed with chapstick. Snaking your palm behind his neck, one of his knees planted itself on the mattress, keeping him sturdy as he pulled you closer to the edge. 

Attempting to slide down to the floor, he catches you by the armpits, lowering you easily and fixing your hair. The action is sweet, making your cheeks flush, but you continue your mission of undoing his pants. His thighs were nice, you remembered that from last time, but something about him in refined garments made you more lustful.

The boxers beneath were easier to discard, allowing him to step out of both after you shoved them downward. His dick was pretty, something that definitely couldn’t be said for everyone, and you went eagerly for his tip. The bead of precum fell to your tongue as you dragged against his slit, an assuring hiss from above.

Rich moved closer with a handheld camera, putting it at the level of Eddie’s shoulder. Fluttering your eyelashes, you peered up as you went down to his base. The hairs tickled your nose, but you moaned salaciously and popped off. 

“You’re nothing, but trouble, you know that?” Eddie croaked, urging your mouth open with his grasp on your cheek. With your tongue out, he slapped his hardened length against it and slid to the engulfing entrance of your throat. 

When Rich moved back to his previous position, you rested your hands on his thigh comfortably, keeping your motions steady with the help of his guidance. But his free hand came to one of yours, interlocking them and letting them stay at his waistline. 

He noticed the soft lines by your eyes when he did this, flicking his brows upwards quickly with a strangled moan. You swirled your tongue around him like you need to remember every detail, doting over each vein or patch of skin, creating your masterpiece of eroticism.

Despite his growing experience, Eddie found himself becoming overwhelmed as you maneuvered your way around his manhood, thumb stroking the back of your hand. He yanked your hair to give him access to your lips, crouching to kiss them hastily while tugging you up. His eagerness was soothed briefly by your touch, holding his shoulders while your body pressed against him, feeling the thin fabric between your legs.

With little contemplation, he went to his own knees, nipping your navel and then the petite bow at your waistline. You watched in awe as he held eye contact, dragging your panties down with his teeth until they reached your knees. Motioning towards the bed with a nod, he began removing your shoes as you sat growing wetter and wetter.

The subtly throb in your foot felt relief as he slid them off, humming as he planted a soft kiss to your instep and ankle. He ran his nose up your soft leg, looking up to your amused look with a laugh, biting your thigh.

“I feel like you’re trying to eat me, baby.” You crooned, his face blocked by his wild hair, but you felt his face skim past your cunt. With a sharp breath, you laid on your bare back against the cool comforter, letting your legs spread.

“I’m getting there, doll.” He huffed playfully, licking up your folds to taste your desire. Moans fall from your lips as his vibrates against your core, fluttering at his tender touch. The silk skin glides seamlessly against his eager tongue with little resistance, only breaking his stride to suck on your clit.

The exaggerated slurping noises could’ve made you laugh, but you threw your head back with a moan, running a hand over your breast. With certain people, it was tricky to remember you were in a scene, but then there’s moments where it’s so stereotypical that it takes you by surprise.

Not to say that Eddie wasn’t exquisite at his job, it was pleasurable, but his job was ultimately to perform. You both were paid to give people an intimate show that typically ended in an orgasm if you’re lucky. 

Making direct eye contact with the camera, you bit your lip and groaned before letting your mouth fall open. Running your hands through your own hair, you let them hang up by your ears as Eddie made his way upward.

His lower face was doused in your wetness, leaving a subtle trail of it as he kissed up to your chest, latching to a nipple. Lifting his head, you left pecks from his forehead to his nose and to his cheeks, wrapping your legs around his waist. The new angle gave you a chance to flip over, still attacking his face as he blushed.

“I want your cock inside me.” You stated, rising to hover over his blooming erection as he watched. Truthfully, he wasn’t used to having someone else in control, his scenes usually had him making the rules and calling the shots. While there was no power dynamic for this one, it was interesting to see you start on top.

“I think I can manage that.” He replied with a chuckle, holding your hips still as you began to descend, slipping the tip inside. The pair of you cried out, a mix of sincere and elaborate with the way he pierced through and you squeezed.

Being on top was always riveting as gravity assisted, for better or for worse. Needing extra leverage, you placed your hands on his thigh to begin bouncing, leaning back to give a camera a full shot. Eddie went to his elbows, rolling his eyes at the way your chest moved hypnotically and your slick decorated him.

“You’re so big, it never gets easier.” You cried, satisfaction evident in your proclamation, and feeling firm hands grab your waist.

“Wouldn’t be so hard if you weren’t so fuckin’ tight.” He hissed, repositioning your chests flushed to one another as his feet planted on the bed. 

The thrusts up inside you started gentle as it built momentum, taking note of when your tone became softer and not as rigid. As your body relaxed, he quickened his pace as your hands clutched the sheets. 

A cameraman did a close up of where you connected, the sultry noises of skin picking up from the boom microphone. Eddie slowed it down to give the man a better shot before regaining his tempo. 

As you began to clench around him, Eddie flipped your bodies so he could hover above you, caging you in his warm body. He entered you with more intention this time, sling and languid with not just the orgasm in mind, but bordering on the love making requested of them. 

“I love you.” You gasped, kissing his lips abruptly, threading your fingers through his curls and pushing it back, making both of your faces easier to see.

“Fuck, I love you too, baby.” He groaned, “You gonna come all over me?” 

“Please, come inside of me.” You shrieked, feeling the climax approaching in a hot wave until it consumed you. As your body struck with pleasure, you felt Eddie’s release coat your inner walls, bringing you back to reality.

Eyes fluttering open to see his big brown ones with a dopey smile, you giggled for the 100th time and cupped his crinkled cheeks. Regardless of his softening length inside you, his mouth was avid and met you with affection. 

“Let’s get a shot of it dripping from her!” Rich called, snapping you both from the embrace and Eddie rolling beside you. The device went close to your pussy as his come flooded out into your lips, taking a finger to spread it and taste it.

“That’s a wrap! Great work!” Bill called, the prolific noise resuming in the room as assistance ran up with your robes. The cotton was comforting as it covered your body, tying the knot to keep it closed in front of you as the man beside you mimicked your actions.

Going your separate ways with a brief goodbye and closing the doors to your dressing rooms, you could hear the muffled voice of James Hetfield from down the hall. You laughed to yourself, grabbing your clothes to go into the showers and thinking about the way he wiped chocolate from the corner of your lip.

—--

This was a first for Eddie.

Typically after a day of shooting, he was ready to eat boxed mac and cheese and drink beer. But he was standing in the beaded back room of Family Video, glad that Robin was not in for another hour. Skimming the names on the torn paper VHS covers, his calloused index finger hit the letter E.

Grabbing the tape, he rushed to the clerk and to his van, not uttering a word to anyone. Shoving it in his bag, he sped out of the parking lot with a black trail from his tires. Hands fiddling with the hairs in his brows, suppressing the urge to tug at them as each light turned red or a pedestrian crossed the street. 

Consolation filled his chest as he realized both Robin and Steve were gone, their cars missing from the busy lot. Skipping over a few steps on his way up the stairs, he fumbled with his keys as they rang through the cold, outdoor walkway. The click of the lock sent him flying in, racing to his bedroom and locking that door for an extra safe measure. 

The old television was wooden with a coat hanger sticking from the antenna, providing dodge news channels, Saturday morning cartoons, and the occasional sitcom. The VHS player beneath it was covered in dust as most movie nights were in their living room, almost never finishing before they got distracted and did something else. 

As the tape slipped in the player, he sat on the floor and took a deep breath. Clicking the play button created an unpleasant static before you appeared, sitting on a bed with a lilac dress on, flustered as the man behind the camera complimented you.

Even before his career, Eddie didn’t get the opportunity to watch porn a lot, resorting to crinkly magazines or if a friend had premium cable that got X-Rated channels. When he did join, he didn’t find it enjoyable after knowing all the mechanics, most of the stars, and how some didn’t like each other outside the thin walls.

“I’m Eos, I guess.” You announced meekly, tucking hair behind your ear, your foot shaking against your other ankle. The shoes were wedges, not nearly as tall as the ones from earlier, but enough to emphasize your legs. 

Eddie had a vast mind that ran almost constantly, going from one obscure thought to another with little guidelines. As he watched the blurry screen, he focused more on the abstract elements that most who rented this film didn’t, especially since they had their cock in hand and he twisted his bracelet. Realizing how the background looked recognizable, like the Castle Hotel on the other side of town, one he recorded once in and hated it. It smelled like gasoline and had little noise cancellation.

The small indents of where your shoe hugged your ankle appeared as you slipped them off, very similar to the same ones he felt earlier. Somehow this felt more perverted, the fact he wasn’t just jacking off to it, but truly watching it. 

Losing patience, he grabbed the remote beneath a pile of clean clothes on his dresser with some tumbling to the floor with his sharp movements. Clicking the white arrows, it sped through the introductions and getting acquainted with being in front of a camera, stopping when your clothes were discarded.

A shaky breath ran through his lungs when you pressed a vibrator to your clit, achieving a timid gasp at the incentive as you began to glisten under the bright lights. The stirring in his stomach was a mix of arousal and nausea, feeling his face scorched, but his pants constrict. 

With a few more taps to the remote, you had a dildo between your legs as a haughty song blared through the weak speakers, jolting Eddie to sit straighter. Your mewls were barely audible and the angles were atrocious, scanning down your body as you whined and traveling up as your cunt made amatory noises. 

Rewinding to the beginning and ejecting it, he sat with it in his hands, slightly disgusted with himself and his evincing erection. Shoving it back in his bag, he marched to the bathroom and shut the door aggressively unintentionally.  

Tugging at his knotted hair, he dragged his clammy paws down his warm cheeks and looked at his own brown eyes in the mirror. The bags under them were more prominent as he was deprived of sleep, too many thoughts infiltrating his waking moments till his body finally gave out. 

Turning on the faucet, he splashed tepid water in his face, droplets decorating him like ornaments on a tree. His lashes clumped to a darker brown as he cooled down, blindly reaching for his hair tie in the side drawer to put it in a low bun. 

His hands clenched the beige granite countertops littered with products and guitar picks, subconsciously noticing the way he could make out a dog in the splotches of black igneous rock. Stretching backwards till his rear hit the white wall, he rolled himself against it until he saw his own reflection once more, continuously asking himself the same question.

Why the fuck did you rent that tape?

authors note: hi there! thank you for reading and for your patience! i can't begin to say how much reading the comments on my first part means to me, i love writing and i'm glad i can do it for people with a similar interest as me. a special thanks to my loves autumn ( @lilacletter ) and august ( @indouloureux ) for being my favorite people and helping me with this piece. mwah.

taglist: @imjuststeddietrashatthispoint @edsforehead @wiltedwonderland @idathereader @red-2-0@cutiecusp @haileyhellfire @bimbobobaggins69 @harrys-tittie @sillypurplemurple @thikkiesixx @metalsunflowers @creepytoes88 @girl-frm-mars @eddiesbabe95 @qnsfwthoughts @p4st3lst4rs @whoahoney @Innlove @whore-for-eddie @kiyastrf94 @mirrorsstuff @micheledawn1975 @whoreforhowl @killyspinacoladas @nevermore66 @aysheashea

@sweetsouthernbitchery @sidthedollface2 @trixyvixx @munsonsuccubus @gaysludge @abirdinthehouse @christalcake @lokiofasssguard616 @loving-and-dreaming @igotloki @munsonology

[loserdiaz]

since we won't be having any 911 for two weeks and this episode was henren ( which i loved ) here's a little buddie drabble <3 post 06x06: "tomorrow"

"Hey, Buck." Eddie bumps his shoulder against the blonde, as they're leaving the hospital. Hen's going home to Denny and they can't visit Karen, so there's no point in staying. "Come home with me?"

They need to go back to the station for their stuff anyway.

He asks but already knows the answer to his question anyway. Today was... a lot. Eddie himself doesn't really want Buck to go back to his lonely loft and by the stiffness of the man's shoulder, and tgte slight frown on his face— well, Eddie guesses Buck doesn't want that either.

"Sure. I'll follow you on the Jeep after the shift officially ends?"

"Yeah, okay."

-

On the drive to Eddie's house, he thinks it sucks. He wants this— Buck going home with him, maybe have some dinner the both of them as they lie on the couch and talk about anything and everything. But Eddie wants it forever. He wants share drives everyday— Buck on the wheel as Eddie admires his profile from the passenger seat. He wants to reach out and hold the man's hand, as they drive in comfortable silence and listen to some random radio station on the way home. Buck would have this permanent small, soft smile on his face that would mean he's happy and content.

He wants that.

Instead, he drives alone, with the Jeep visible on his rearview mirror.

Maybe someday. Eddie thinks to himself. Not yet.

But someday.

Soon. He makes that promise to himself, as he gets out of the car and Buck does the same barely a few seconds later.

They enter the house together and it almost feels like it's real. Like Buck's there to stay, like he doesn't have a loft waiting for him half across town.

Someday. Soon.

They say hi to Carla and watch her go, they kiss Chris goodnight and make it extra embarrassing just to listen to the kid's soft and tired laugh.

It's so domestic. Eddie can feel it to his bones, the softness and familiarity of it all.

"You're staying, right? For the night?" Eddie checks as he hands Buck one beer. They're in the kitchen, softly lit and making everything look softer. Making Buck look more inviting and tempting that he already is.

Eddie aches with the need to reach out, to finally make the move.

But it's not the right time. Not tonight.

Soon.

Their eyes lock across the kitchen counter, and Buck offers him the most tender smile imaginable. There's something about the way Buck looks at him, something in the way his blue eyes glisten that make Eddie's heart skip a beat. "Yeah, I'm staying."

Buck's voice comes out low and a little hoarse but Eddie hears him all the same.

Maybe they're closer than he'd thought, right on the verge of that something they've been dancing around for years.

Maybe 'soon' it's sooner than Eddie thinks.

[deathbecomesthem]

Exile in Guyville 2 - Glory

+18 ONLY - Minors DNI

Moodboard by @onegirlmanytales

Record shop Eddie Munson x AFAB Reader |8.2K

*Disclaimer* This story is written in second-person POV for reader immersion. I am labeling it an Eddie Munson x Reader fic. Reader is a unique character. They have a shaved head, are physically disabled - sometimes walking with a limp -, tattoos, and piercings. They have a backstory. If you are not interested in a fic written in that way, simply do not read it. Both Eddie and reader are bisexual. Reader is physically disabled and has PTSD. Eddie is bisexual, has PTSD, and chronic pain.

Series Summary: It's 1995 and Eddie is still looking for a home. His nomadic lifestyle as a studio musician for hire has become lonely as he watches his friends move on and start families of their own. The loss of Wayne, and the relationship he forms with an old rocker brings him to a college town where he meets you. Is there room in your life for him?

Chapter Summary: Eddie seeks you out in the hope that you'll come through with your offer to help. This chapter contains sexual content in the form of masturbation.

---

*Beep* *Beep* *Beep*

Your hand shoots out at the sound, groping around your nightstand, only knocking over a candle and a full glass of water for your efforts.

*Beep* *Beep* *Beep*

Fuuuuuucccckkk. Where in the fucking fuck?

*Beep* *Beep* *Beep*

The alarm is screaming through your pitch-black room, and you slowly remember. It’s not on the nightstand anymore. You put your foot in a puddle of cold water and hobble to the other side of your bedroom, slamming a fist down onto the alarm clock, halting the offending sound. Your immediate thought is, go back to bed.

4:25 am. You had fallen asleep sometime after 2:00 when the frat guy from the house next door finally stopped puking outside of your bedroom window. If you had known when you signed your lease that you’d be next to a fraternity, you’d have opted for an upstairs bedroom. You’re seriously considering moving your shit up to occupy one of your roommates’ bedrooms while they’re home for the summer. You can’t do it, though, it feels wrong to intrude in their spaces like that.

You’re slowly starting to remember why you set your alarm for such an ungodly hour. You’re baking and opening this morning. The usual baker was stuck in West Virginia, her car had died while she was trudging through the mountains to head back north. You have no idea how long she’ll be out, but you and your manager are splitting baking duties until her return. You’re her most reliable worker, unfortunately for you.

A blue button-up shirt passes your smell test along with the only pair of jeans you own that don’t have the knees blown out. Yet. Your hamper is overflowing, which you know means you have to get to the laundromat, but god do you want to avoid it as long as possible. You can eek out at least one more day, since tomorrow is a day off, and you won’t need to wear the prescribed “uniform”.

The big house is quiet. It makes the soft hair on your arms stand on end in these early hours with only your still sleep fogged thoughts echoing inside your head. You often wonder what ghosts occupy the space within the walls of the old place. It was hacked to pieces sometime in the 60s and turned into ROTC housing. The upstairs has a wall dividing the hallway in half, once upon a time the boys were on the left and the girls were on the right, with a bathroom at the far end of each hallway. Two big bedrooms on the ground floor, likely for house parents back in the day. Yours is the one next to the kitchen with quick access to the back door. That is all well and good until Mo moves back in. She’s an early riser, and you swear she stands outside of your bedroom door banging pots and pans together on purpose every morning just to aggravate you.

Today, though, you’re alone. And you’re spooked. It happens more often than you’d like, the sense that someone has been in your home when you’re out or late at night when you’re asleep. Rent is cheap, and you can’t afford a place with a lock on a lobby door. It will be better when the halls are once again filled with the sounds of your 7 roommates, as well as all of the random folks that wander in looking for them. You like it, being in this community, this family.

You see the blinking red light on the answering machine set in the “window” cut out of the barrier wall in the upstairs hallway and hit play on your way to the bathroom to brush your teeth and run water over your head.

Mo’s voice rings through the empty space, and it doesn’t settle the eerie feeling in your gut. “Hey bitch. I’m stopping by later with groceries. Mom says you should come spend some time with us this summer, she hates you being alone all the time. Love you, I hope you’re home when I come by. Mwah.”

Mo’s mom loves you and hates your situation. She was friends with your parents before they left. She doesn’t know the whole story, but she knows enough to judge your mom for leaving her barely 18-year-old alone with no financial or emotional support to fend for herself. So, she does what she does best, she feeds you at every opportunity. And you are thankful. So thankful. She didn’t even look at you funny when you showed up with a buzzed head and fresh tattoos a few months ago. She hugged you like you were still the kid that sang in the high school choir with Mo. You suppose you still are that person, but a lot has changed in the last couple of years.

You head back down the stairs, your left leg sends a zing when you hit the first step, so you smack it hard with your fist and keep trudging along. The instinct to hit that aching leg is strong, but never actually eases the pain. Your watch is telling you that it’s 10 til 5:00, and you’ve got to get your ass moving. You run back to your room to grab your keys and wallet, shove them into your pockets, and head out the front door. The coffee shop is just around the corner at the end of your street. It’s perfect for you since you can’t afford to keep the insurance on a car. That’s fine when your roommates are around, but it keeps you stranded in town while they’re gone. You’d give anything to take a ride out to the woods on the outskirts of town. To be able to breathe in the pine scented air and feel the crunch of leaves under your feet. To hike up the hills and look out over the lake and see the ripples of sunshine flash up at you. You miss it.

Your feet hit the uneven sidewalk, dodging any spots that might trip you up. No streetlights in this part of town, which you never understood. It’s mostly college housing in this part of town, shouldn’t the safety of the students that come from all over the country be a priority for the city? The answer, of course, is no, even though your chances of being in trouble on this street far outweigh the possibility than on the side of town where all of the homeowning residents live. There is a clear divide between the locals and the college kids. You would know better than most, you once lived on one of those streets that is lined with single family homes - each with a minivan or station wagon in the garage.

You round the corner of the shop on autopilot until you reach the heavy metal back door. That heavy door with, intended to keep the shop secure in the hours between closing and opening. And yet, the face of the shop has a line of glass doors that open to a smoker’s patio. From the patio, you can see all the way through the dining room and into the kitchen, where that metal door stands guard against - nothing. If someone wants to get in, they’ll get in. 

You enter the back door and hang up your bag. You turn the oven on. You start the coffee pots. You flip the switch on the espresso machine. You assemble the froth wand and portafilters. You fill the ice. You fill the creamer pot. You turn on NPR. You put the bagels in the oven. You pour yourself a cup of coffee and smoke a cigarette on the patio while the bagels turn golden brown under the heating elements of the large industrial oven. The streets are still quiet, only one car drives by heading out towards the highway at this early hour. 5 minutes before the shop opens. Rose will come in and you’ll be ready to deal with what the day has to offer.

This morning is going smoothly, despite the lack of sleep. You get along well with Rose. The two of you are friends, at her constant insistence. You had no choice in the matter, resistance was futile. The combination of the two of you always results in maximum tipping from the customers. They love the dynamic you share, gentle verbal jabs back and forth. The entire staff at the coffee shop has become like a family to you, and the shop itself is like your home. You are often found there when you aren't working, sitting in a booth in the corner with a book or your journal. Sometimes, you play chess with the old men that come in every morning. They love you, and you love sitting with them and hearing their stories. It makes you feel less lonely knowing there are people that want to talk to you – actually look forward to it.

When 9:30 rolls around, you’re beyond ready for a break. This is the last day of a seven-day work stretch. You want nothing more than to clock out and take a nap, but you still have four hours left on your shift. A couple of other workers have come in to start before the lunch crowd started trickling in, so at least you can disappear into the kitchen for prep until it’s time to leave. For now, though, you grab a bagel, a cup of coffee, your cigarettes, and your journal and head for the patio. It is hot, but the breeze feels nice, and you want to be in the sunlight for a while.

You let your mind drift at these times, allowing yourself to be completely unaware of your surroundings. It’s one of the few places you feel safe enough to let your mind wander in this way. The walls can come down for a while in these moments, knowing that there are people inside the building behind your back that are watching out for you. So, you wander, you let your mind travel through time and space. You find words that are asking to be written and place them in your sacred book. It’s your only vulnerable place, it’s where you are still a child, where you haven’t been unceremoniously dumped into adulthood with no one making sure you remember to wash behind your ears and fill up your belly at the appropriate times throughout the day.

This is where you are, lost in your mind, letting yourself feel something, when you register a weight on your shoulder. You spin around, pen held up as if it could defend against whatever threat might be at your back, only to find wide, and quite shocked, brown eyes so dark they’re almost black, staring at the pen you have held up at his chest. It’s Eddie.

You had not, in fact, stopped by the record shop like you told him you would 3 days ago. The reasons, and there are reasons, made sense in your head, but you can’t seem to remember any of them now that the two of you are face to face again. Never mind the fact that with him this close, those dark pools on his face threaten to drown you. You drop your pen and motion for him to sit in one movement, giving him a moment to adjust to your sudden change in demeanor.

As he sits, he pulls out a pack of cigarettes from his front pocket. A leather jacket in this heat is not something you would have chosen for yourself, but you keep that to yourself. You reach for your own smokes, Camels, just like Eddie’s, and startle a little at how quickly he brings his lighter to your face before you can even find yours in your pocket. You attempt to ignore the way that particular gesture sends your guts buzzing.

“So, how are you?” Eddie takes a drag of his cigarette while his other hand absentmindedly taps against the wooden octangular table. He’s not really asking how you are. Eddie is here because you offered him help. You can tell by the way he’s fidgeting that he’s ready to bounce right out of his seat. He’s asking because that’s what you do, and he doesn’t want to be rude. You don’t have time for that.

“I’m sorry I didn’t stop by yet -” Eddie begins to protest, but you put your hand up to stop him, “- I swear, I was going to, but I got roped into pulling crazy hours here this week. Our baker’s stranded in West Virginia.” You shrug a little. It’s true, but that’s not the only reason. You also worry about what James may have said about you when you left the tattoo shop the other day. You don’t know Eddie at all, and you hate the thought of being a secret joke that they share.

“You know, I’ve tried coming in twice already to find you,” he’s sheepish, eyes cast down to the table, “I’m surprised no one told you,” his eyes meet yours, and you almost reel back. He’s so sincere, it almost breaks your heart, “I really need help, I’m fucking desperate.”

Under normal circumstances, this kind of behavior from someone you haven’t even had a real conversation with would set your teeth on edge. Something about Eddie sets you at ease, though. Your eyes wander to the scar that starts at his cheek and moves south past the collar of his jacket and wonder on it briefly.

“Well, you’re in luck,” you stub out your smoke and throw back your coffee mug, grimacing at the taste of the cold dregs of coffee left at the bottom, “I’m off tomorrow. I can stop by after my shift today to get the lay of the land, yeah?”

You guess it’s safe to assume you’re hired, considering Eddie’s desperation to seek you out. The bags under his eyes tell you he’s not likely to see this side of 10:00 am very often. This could work out, most weeks you were lucky to get 20 hours of work out of the coffee shop, and you didn’t mind doing bitch work if it means working in a quiet shop that hasn’t even opened yet. Plus, records. (And Eddie) You try not to think too much about how the idea of spending more time with him is a big motivator in you skipping your afternoon nap to get a peek at the condition of the record shop.

“Uh, yeah. Fuck yeah.” His smile brings out laugh lines at the edges of his eyes, a clear indication that he wears a smile often, and you think you want to bring that out in him whenever possible. “You know where it is?”

You’re both up and moving back to the inside of the shop side by side. It’s not lost on you that you’re both a little awkward. You know why you’re being weird, you have a crush on this guy, and you can’t deny it. Maybe he’s picking up on it.

You shake the thought out of your brain, don’t start that, and sneak behind the counter, “Don’t leave yet.” You put your pointer finger in the air to indicate “one minute” and sneak to the back to put your shit away and get your apron. Rose is standing in the storeroom mouthing, “oh my god who is that?” in an exaggerated silent yell. You ignore her and head back to the front.

“What’s your fancy?” You can’t let him leave without coffee, he looks like the walking dead, and you have an appointment with him in a few hours.

--

It’s a little after 1:00 and you’ve got an unhealthy amount of caffeine pumping through your veins as you make your way to the record shop. Dave Mitchell owned it for at least 20 years but sold the space a few months ago so he could retire. You’ve been worried about what might occupy the space and have a real sense of relief knowing it would remain a store full of music. You’re also pleased to see that the Spin More sign still stands above the door and hope that Eddie decides to keep the name. It’s a local landmark.

Before you left the coffee shop, you had promised Rose that you two would get dinner and drinks. It wasn’t an accident that Rose set the schedule so that both of you had the following day off. The plan for tonight is stupid, drunken fun. You both deserve it.

The record store is positioned next to a deli and the smell of bread permeates through the walls. As you enter you spot Eddie on the top step of an a-frame ladder in the center of the store. You see he has a lightbulb in his hand and he’s reaching for a spot above his head. His leather jacket is missing, and you catch sight of a sliver of exposed skin due to the reach of his arms. You see more scars, similar to the ones on his neck, and you wonder to yourself again, just for a moment.

“Knock knock,” you keep your voice level and quiet, trying to avoid startling him. The last thing you want is to have to figure out a way to get him to the hospital. He jumps a little, and you wince. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No worries. Welcome to my humble abode, feel free to look around.” Eddie gives you a wide smile before returning to his task at hand.

You meander through the stacks of boxes, most are open and what you find is an impression collection of records. Like a bee to honey, you’re drawn to a box labeled “shitty punk records.” You’re fingering your way through the collection while Eddie makes his way back to ground level and over to you.

“What do you think?” Eddie opens his arms wide and turns in a circle, presenting the space for your consideration.

“I think you’re gonna have trouble selling records if you don’t take them out of the boxes,” Eddie nods in agreement, and you add, “I’m also deeply offended that you have so many Social D albums in a box labeled ‘shitty punk records’, Eddie.” You give him a disappointed look while holding up their self-titled Social Distortion album.

“Let’s get one thing straight,” Eddie’s moving towards you with a little faux frown on his face. He takes the record out of your hand and puts it back in the box, “just because it’s shitty doesn’t mean it’s not good.” He stares down at you, waiting for a response, and his eyes on you start to make your head feel fuzzy. You want to push him out of your space, but you opt to throw your hands up in defeat instead while taking a step backwards. You’re not willing to go toe to toe with someone that obviously knows his stuff when it comes to music. The collection he has is impressive, you can tell that even without seeing inside every box - never mind the guitars he has set up at the far end of the large space. An image of Eddie on stage with a guitar in hand flashes in your mind, and you shift your feet to steady yourself.

Eddie eyes you and lets out a little satisfied hum at your easy surrender. He crooks his finger at you in a “follow me” gesture and starts making his way across the shop. He set a quick pace, and you can feel your hip tighten as you try to keep up with his long gait. You pat your left leg aggressively, not daring to punch it like you normally would. You’d rather not draw attention to your pain, not with Eddie. Not yet.

He reaches into his small office and grabs a notebook and a pen. Eddie looks back at you with concern in his eyes. Pain recognizing pain. You give him a telepathic warning: Danger Do Not Approach This Subject, and he clears his throat in an attempt to hide the question he almost let slip past his lips.

“Uh, how about you write down when you think you’d like to work. It doesn’t even have to be when I’m around because it’s mostly just organizing that I need help with. I’ve got an apartment upstairs, so I’ll always be close by.”

“That sounds like a threat,” you instinctively take the jab, and it earned a little laugh from Eddie. “I’ll work as much as you let me. I’m at the café about 20 hours a week because there aren’t enough hours to spread around during the summer. I need to be able to afford to eat.”

Eddie nods, and says, “sounds perfect,” and he starts fiddling around in his pocket for his keys. He’s working one off the ring for you, and it hits you that he’s already willing to literally give you the key to his kingdom.

“You’re just going to let me come and go as I please? You don’t even know me.” You aren’t used to anyone trusting you at first sight. Especially not after you started shaving your head. Most people were skeptical, assuming you were a delinquent.

“Yeah, why not?” He’s giving you that crooked grin again, but he can tell you’re not buying it. He scratches the back of his neck and admits, “I’ve been trying to catch you at the coffee shop for the last two days. I told your boss who I was, and she told me you were the most reliable employee she’s ever had. Not exactly typical dirtbag behavior.”

You laugh and point at Eddie’s chest, “Don’t tell anyone, I have a reputation to uphold.”

Eddie pulls a boxcutter out of his back pocket and starts working to open a new box, “I’ve got shelves in the back that need to be set up, and we’re just handwriting labels for genres with a fat sharpie until I figure something else out,” the bicep under his shirt sleeve ripples as he tears at the box, and you feel a little flutter in your chest. Push that away, no, “work when you want. Just lock up before you leave. If you’re here at odd hours, like overnight, just keep the noise to a minimum. I don’t wanna piss off the locals,” he reaches down for a new box before he adds, “If you need anything at all, take the stairs at the side door. First apartment on the left. If I’m not here, I’m probably there. Any questions?”

You have a question, you’ve been dreading it, but it has to be asked, “hey, uh, how do you feel about paying me under the table? Cash?” You can’t meet his eyes, because if he says no you’ll have to reconsider. It’s got to be worth it, and paying taxes on the scraps he’ll likely pay you is not what you have in mind.

“Oh, yeah, no problem,” Eddie’s waving away your concern, as if this was the only arrangement he was considering anyway, “10 bucks an hour fair?”

You can’t believe he’s actually asking if that’s fair, you’re making $6 an hour at the coffee shop, and that’s getting taxed. His features are genuine, though, he wants his offer to be fair, and he wants to hear that you think it is.

“That’s totally fair,” you heave out a little sigh, “It’s more than fair. Reconsider if it ends up costing too much, ok?”

He waves you off again, still tearing open boxes. You realize at this moment that you’ve only seen Eddie in motion. You wonder if he’s always this high energy, in everything that he does, and immediately shut that thought down.

“Alright, yeah, this is great. Thanks, Eddie, I’ll probably be in tomorrow.” You turn on your heel and give him a wave as you head to the door. He’s grinning and waving back goofily.

The afternoon air on the street is more stifling than it was in the morning, but you stick to the shadows on the sidewalk as you make your way to Rose’s apartment. She could take you back to your place so you can get ready for the night. It’s open mic at Dom’s, and you know you’ll be getting roped into it, as always.

You just don’t know that Eddie will be out looking for the local music scene tonight. He wonders if there were any good open mic nights for him to scope out. He’s always on the lookout for any untapped, unknown artists. There’s a special kind of magic that only happens on the small stages you find inside small dive bars on a random weekday night.

--

You walk out of the front door of the shop, leaving Eddie alone in the open space. He sits back on his haunches and watches you move along the sidewalk until you’re out of sight. He immediately feels the loss of your presence, like the life has been sucked out of the room, following you out that door. You’re the first person he’s felt any kind of real connection to since he moved into town, and that was just pure instinct. He doesn’t even know you, but he knows better than to fight against that feeling. His gut isn’t wrong about these things. It knows better than his brain when he’s supposed to get to know someone.

The lease agreement for the shop, as well as the apartment upstairs, has been generous. It helps that he made a personal connection with the previous tenant and agreed to continue to run the business in the same manner that Dave had done for the last 20 years. The landlord is happy to cut Eddie a deal. He already knows the business model works, and Eddie has been in the scene for a while. He knows what he was talking about when it comes to music. As far as the business stuff, the landlord is willing to take him at his word - especially after those first couple of checks cleared with no problem.

Eddie took it as a sign, the whole thing sort of fell into his lap. Gift wrapped with a pretty bow. As soon as he thought about any potential issue with the arrangement, a solution showed up with ease. It’s one of those things that he trusts. Sometimes things just work out, and fighting against it would mean missing out on something important. The first time he came to the city he felt the rightness of it immediately. It felt like home, something that not even Hawkins accomplished for him, despite it continuing to be where so many of his loved ones live. But the vibes in Hawkins have always been off for Eddie, even before he was sucked into Vecna’s web all of those years ago.

Eddie’s mind is on the past, and he’s subconsciously rubbing his old scars. They are zinging, sending sharp pain signals to his brain. This happens sometimes when he forgets to push back - the pain starts to sneak in. Those scars always sit on the wrong side of healed, always a little bit painful and raw. It frustrates him to no end. The pain is always present, and it’s worse when he lets his guard down. Not the kind of pain that stops him in his tracks, it’s a constant aggravation. A drumbeat of aching memories. For some time, Eddie thought he was losing his mind, only to find that Steve’s own scars behave the same way. 

Eddie stands up with a grunt and rubs a hand down his face. He needs a shave, the stubble on his chin at that itchy length that drives him crazy. He needs to get out of his own head. He considers meditation, having skipped it this morning in an effort to catch you while you were in the coffee house. He knows that skipping that practice only makes him antsy, it’s easier for the pain to sneak in. The time he spends in that quiet space is what keeps the panic attacks at bay. 

Eddie feels around in his front pocket for his keys and decides a different type of meditation is in order for today. The sun is shining, and he hasn’t had a chance to ride on the roads that skirted downtown. He knows the terrain changes after a person hits the city limits, and it was past time to see what the area has to offer. An old guy at the coffee house told him about the woods out of town, and Eddie thinks it’s time to check it out.

At the back of the building that houses his business, as well as his new home, sits a small garage. It’s included in the lease agreement, and Eddie counts it as another sign that this is the right place for him. His bike, a ’72 Yamaha CS5, sits pretty in the middle of the space. She was due for the junk heap when Wayne took her off his buddy’s hands. It took Eddie years to rebuild her and make her pretty again, but she’s a beauty now. 

As he takes in the sight of her, he feels a little pang of - what? regret? - at the shiny black seat he custom ordered. A seat for one, and one only. It’s never bothered him before, but right now he’s thinking about how it won’t be possible to put someone else on her back with him. The thought of you holding onto his middle while the wind blows through his hair sent a shiver of pleasure down his spine, but he pushed back at it immediately. No, Eddie, don’t do that, he tells himself. He can’t be letting himself get carried away in the way that he does.

His baby purrs for him when he turns the ignition. He loves the sound of the two-stroke engine, especially because he’ss the one that brought her back to life. She sat at Wayne’s trailer under a tarp while Eddie led his nomadic existence, and he’d spend his time at home lovingly learning every inch of his baby – fixing, replacing, and cleaning every part of her until she could sing for him. She makes the prettiest sounds.

When Wayne finally succumbed to cancer last year, it was a wake-up call for Eddie. He had nowhere to call his home. Hawkins was a cursed place and was colder still with the loss of his only blood relation - his father excluded. His close friends, especially Nancy and Steve, had started seeing the cracks when they talked to him, he had been aimless and lonely. They all had their own families, lives that they had been building for years, and he had his bike and guitar with the occasional romantic endeavor. He rarely talked about those things, but Nancy always seemed to know when they started - and when they inevitably would end. A six sense for Eddie’s aching heart. Eddie never talked to Steve about it, afraid to reopen old wounds.

Steve. He’s coming out soon. He’s the silent business partner. Beth and the kids are taking a trip to see her family, and Steve is using the opportunity to get out of town. Steve’s wife, Beth, loves Eddie like he’s family. She calls him at least once a week to beg him to move back to Hawkins. He’s an uncle to her two kids - the best uncle. Beth, angel that she is, made sure Wayne was well stocked with frozen homemade meals in those last couple of years. Beth loves Eddie, and she knows all about the kind of relationship that Eddie and Steve shared all of those years ago. She doesn’t care, if anything, she counts herself lucky to have him in their lives. Lucky that Steve and Eddie found a way to maintain the love between them, even if there’s that associated pain.

On the city streets, the heat of the day feels oppressive. Eddie didn’t realize it could get this humid here, but the air in his new home with its close proximity to the Great Lakes often made the air in his chest feel heavy. Even on the back of the bike with the wind blowing through his hair, it was too hot - like god was holding a blow dryer up to his face on the highest setting. The further he rides out of town, the more the trees hug the sides of the road creating a protective canopy from the harsh rays of sunlight. He makes a mental note to take this exact ride as often as possible when the leaves start to change. He can imagine the foliage will be stunning. Maybe he’ll have someone to share the view with by then.

He isn’t quite sure where he’s going, but he assumes he’ll come across signs to guide him to his destination at some point. It doesn’t matter, he has no one to answer to, other than himself. He can get a little bit lost. When he sees the sign for the orchard – closed for the season – he knows he’s close. He takes a deep turn around a bend, over a bridge with an old railroad track underneath, and he sees the sign. .5 miles to Towner’s Woods. It’s called Townie’s Woods by the locals, miles of cross-country skiing hills with a neolithic burial ground overlooking a set of lakes.

A few moments after his girl rumbles over soft gravel he sees the entrance. Only one car in the parking lot, yet another testament to the college students exit for the summer. He walks his bike back behind a large brick building. He’s not even really sure if he should be worried about leaving her, but he’s risk averse when it comes to his baby. She leaned against the brick façade that overlooks the train tracks, he kisses his fingers and lays them on the fuel tank. “I’ll be back soon, my love.”

When his feet leave the gravel parking lot and hit the soft path made of dirt and dead leaves, he feels transported to a fantasy world. Everything is soft, rays of sunlight muted by the huge trees in the ancient forest. He comes across several moss-covered structures while he wanders the diverging paths that wind throughout the park, but otherwise nature has her way here. He finds a plaque that tells him he’s about to start up a path that once housed the bones of people that time has forgotten, and he turns away to leave the ghosts and not intrude on their rest.

When he spots a pavilion covered in graffiti with tables and beer cans littered around, he decides to stop. This is the spot. He rests his back on the edge of a table, facing out towards the sparkling lakes. The only disappointment he’s felt since coming to the park is seeing “No Trespassing” signs and a barbed wire fence separating the lakes from people that might try to get close. These lakes provide water for most of the cities in the area, it makes Eddie a little sad to know he won’t be able to swim in them during the heat of the summer.

The air starts to feel stagnant not long after he finds the spot he’s already starting to consider as his. He pulls his hair back into a low bun at the nape of his neck, taking a moment to thank the Eddie who remembered to keep a hair tie in his pants’ pocket earlier. He lets his mind wander back to town and the people he’s met so far. More than a few, he wants to take a moment and see if he could recall their names. The town is a hippy oasis, it seems as if he isn’t the only person to stumble in and stay. The smell of patchouli permeates every storefront he’s visited so far, even the tattoo shop smells of it. He wonders if he might eventually develop an immunity to it, but for now it tickles his nose every time he goes through a front door. The only exception, mercifully, is the record shop. It shares a wall with a deli and the smell of freshly baked bread filled his store and apartment. The smell often leads him next door where Jean, the deli owner, provides most of his meals.

He has no friends in town, not yet. Everyone he’s come across has been friendly, warm, and most of all, interesting. He has his mind set for tonight, he’s scoping the scene around town. He’s bound to come across open mics, it’s Thursday in a college town. Even in the summer, he knows the locals will turn out for live music. He’s hoping to make some connections, and who knows, maybe hear some halfway decent musicians.

His mind wanders while his pen moves across the paper on its own accord for a while, until he knows it was time for meditation. His skin is starting to crawl with sweat, and his eyes are getting tired. The woods have brought him back to himself in a way he hadn’t realized he needed. He finds a spot in the grass, crosses his legs, and starts his deep breaths. He doesn’t say the words out loud today, not wanting to disturb the peaceful setting but allowing them to run through his mind while he begins relaxing each muscle from head to toes. 

Steve once walked in on Eddie’s meditations. It was the last time Eddie had stayed with him and Beth for a visit. Eddie, who couldn’t stop moving, who was always so full of potential energy he practically vibrated, was sitting on the floor in absolute peaceful serenity. Eddie took the time to teach Steve about the practice, but it never resonated with Steve in the same way it had with Eddie. 

When Eddie opens his eyes again, the sun is sitting in the sky at a different angle. It’s time to find his way back to his baby and ride home. His watch says 5:00. That gives him enough time to shower and scavenge for something to eat. His body is weightless while he meanders along the paths back to the parking lot. It’s like that, meditation eases the weight of everything.

Eddie takes his time on the way back into town, moving alongside streets he has yet to travel. The neighborhoods on the edge of town have families. Kids are everywhere, some on bicycles, some chasing each other through yards. He passes an elementary school where there are teenagers on skateboards practicing jumps on curbs that have “No Skateboarding” signs. The closer he gets to his apartment, the more the single-family houses are replaced with large colonials that have been chopped into smaller units. Wooden staircases wind around the outside of the houses with various front doors to separate apartments.

By the time Eddie finally gets his baby back into her bed and covered with her blanket, sweat has soaked his shirt making it cling to his chest. He makes the mistake of lifting an arm to assess the damage done by the heat of the day and recoils. He needs a shower. He needs air conditioning. He needs a smoke and a sandwich.

--

Eddie lets the showerhead run cool, almost too cool, before stepping behind the curtain. The initial shock fades quickly while he stands under the water washing the sweat off of his back. The relief is immediate. He lets his mind go where it’s been asking to go for hours - what happens in the shower stays in the shower. That was a rule he’s always lived by. His gut tightened as he pictured your face. The slope of your neck where he’s been wanting to put his mouth and taste. A voice that was surprisingly sultry, a voice that made his skin warm the first time he heard it. Eddie’s instincts are sharp, and they’ve been screaming at him since the first time he laid eyes on you. You’re too pretty. He shouldn’t have gone looking for you after the tattoo shop encounter. He wanted it too much. He wants you, and that want only seems to be increasing the more time he spends with you. He’s afraid he’ll fall in love with you, and then what? 

He exhales a frustrated groan and turns the tap to warm. He can’t go out until he relieves this frustration. He tries to think about the girls in the Playboy he has on his nightstand. Sitting pretty with their perky tits on display, but it’s no use. When he thinks about your eyes, and the way your lips quirk when you look at him he finds that he’s immediately hard as a rock. It’s no use fighting it, not in the shower, when he can just wash away the guilt once it’s over. With one hand propped against the shower wall, the other fisting his hard cock, it takes no time at all for him to reach his climax. With a whimper, he releases himself against the blue tiles and immediately works to forget that he just came so easily at the thought of your smile. Pathetic.

Eddie steps out and towels himself off. He pulls himself together quickly. He opts for a simple black t-shirt, black jeans, and black Docs. It’s his signature look for a reason, it’s easy to pull off and hard to fuck up. Plus, he thinks he looks pretty in black. His hair routine is simple, Steve taught him how to care for his locks while also making it look like he put no effort into it. He even decides to ring his eyes with liner before heading out into the night. Pretty indeed.

He makes it to the deli just in time for Jean to make him a cold sandwich before she shuts down for the day. He sits at the counter while she does her closing routine and makes conversation. He makes a point to start off on good terms with all of the local business owners. Jean is special. 70 years old and she works every day of the week baking her own bread and making her own soups. Eddie knew he would love her until the day he died the first moment he laid eyes on her. 

Eddie gets up to leave after having his fill and stuffs a couple of bills in the tip jar next to the old cash register. Jean calls out “Have fun, Eddie. You look hot as hell tonight.” 

Eddie’s laugh is loud, he barks it out with his head thrown back. He tries to hide the blush he feels creeping up his neck. “Flattery works on me, Sweetheart,” he says as he runs back across the dining room to leave another dollar bill in the tip jar.

It doesn’t take much wandering for Eddie to be drawn from the street by the sound of music. Not just any music, but acoustic guitar – live music. It’s a tune he doesn’t recognize, probably some folk song, maybe even an original. The bar is smokey and fuller than he expects. Mostly older locals go out to hear their friends play music on a stage rather than in their living room. Eddie heads to the counter to order a beer and introduce himself to the bartender. His smile is contagious, and he makes friends easily, so it was no surprise that the bartender found herself leaning over the counter to carry on a hushed conversation with him. 

“If you want to sign up for a slot, we’ve got a few open.” She holds out a clipboard for Eddie to look over. He has no intention of getting on stage tonight, but he takes the opportunity to scan the names of performers that have already signed up. Your name is right there, and his stomach drops. He clears his throat and slides the clipboard back across the sticky counter.

“Thanks, but I’m happy to observe tonight.” He tells the bartender with a grin. He snakes through the crowd to stand in a corner at the back of the room. He scans the room for you, wondering if it’s a coincidence – the name on the list. He clocks a goth chick at a table close to the stage. She seems out of place, but she’s speaking animatedly to an older couple at the table next to her. He shakes his head, wondering if he would be able to get used to seeing these mixed groups mingling. 

Finally, he sees you. You’re to the right of the stage, talking to the emcee. The gray-haired man reaches behind himself to hand you a battered guitar case. You kiss him on the cheek, and Eddie can read your lips saying an exaggerated “Thank you” to the man. The radio plays loudly in the bar between sets, so Eddie can’t actually hear you, but he watches you tune the battered instrument with practiced ease.

The emcee makes his way onto the stage with a crooked gait and brings his tall frame down to the microphone at the center, “First off tonight, we have a local that I’m pretty sure everyone in this room already knows. Let’s see what she’s got for us tonight. She has the voice of an angel but the tongue of a sailor. Buy her a beer when she’s done and maybe we can convince her to come back up and do an original later.”

Eddie’s initial shock is replaced with a warmth in his chest when he sees you approach the microphone at center stage. “Thank you, Uncle Jack, for those kind words and the use of your baby tonight. I’m going to play a song by an artist I met the last time I was in New York. I won’t have the energy that Ani Difranco has, I assure you, but her music resonates with me. Here we go.”

You step back, take a breath, and your small hands work the strings in a way that makes the entire room grow quiet and take notice. Your fingers move in a complicated dance, and your voice rings out with a surety that Eddie rarely hears at an open mic night. It is clear that you have spent a lot of time on stage. It is clear that you are very comfortable in your own skin in front of an audience. At the sound of your voice, Eddie’s feet are practically nailed to the ground below him. He can barely breathe. His eyes are fixed on your face while you mesmerize him, and everyone else in the room.

“The butter melts out of habit, you know the toast isn’t even warm.

The waitress and man in the plaid shirt play out a scene they’ve played so many times before

I am watching the sun stumble home in the morning from a bar on the east side of town

And the coffee is just water dressed in brown

Beautiful but boring he visited me yesterday

He noticed my fingers and asked me if I could play

I didn’t really care a lot but couldn’t think of a reason why not

I said if you don’t come any closer, I don’t mind if you stay

My thighs have been involved in many accidents and now I can’t get insured

And I don’t need to be lured by you

My cunt is built like a wound that won’t heal and now you don’t have to ask

Cuz, you know how I feel

You know how I feel”

This is when you notice him in the corner. If it wasn’t for the eye contact, Eddie would swear you didn’t know he was there. Not a single note falters while you put yourself into the song. Your talent is more than impressive, but your vulnerability makes him feel almost guilty – as if he, and everyone else in the room, is spying on a very private and intimate moment.

“Art is why I get up in the morning but my definition ends there

You know it doesn’t seem fair that I’m living for something I can’t even define

There you are right there in the meantime

I don’t want to play for you anymore show me what you can do

Tell me what are you here for

I want my old friends

I want my old face

I want my own mind

Fuck this time and place

The butter melts out of habit you know the toast isn’t even warm”

The song ends, and you’re off. Like a bird taking flight. The emcee, Uncle Jack, makes his way to the mic, while you grab the arm of your friend and head swiftly to the bar.

“... will be back later with something original, she promises, unless she drinks too much and forgets. Our next performer…” 

Eddie watches you at the bar doing a shot with your friend, the goth chick he had noticed earlier. Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you move your eyes to find Eddie still watching you from the dark corner with a smile on his face. 

[snowviolettwhite]

Spent today working on the mood-board for my upcoming 9-1-1 Alternative Universe Fan-Fiction Set In 2011. Making moodboard and doing interested boards help inspire me and get ideas flowing. So I want to share it. Look how adorable teenage Buck, Eddie and Shannon are. They look so young, little cutie pies.

It will be called "don't have to be sorry for leaving and growing up." It is from Harry Style's Matilda.

Below is what I have written so far, it is still in the works. You can also check out my 9-1-1: Lone Star Fan-Fiction.

---

Set in the early 2010s with barely eighteen and barely out of high school Buck and Eddie running away from home to California and joining the fire academy and eventually joining the 118. Eddie would bring baby Christopher with him. Eddie's parent did not think he was mature and adult enough to take care of Chris as a 20-something year old, so is would be even worse for teenagers, people who are transiting from childhood/teenage-hood to young adulthood and still being treated like kids.

---

It is June of 2011. The schools wide across the nation are all out for summer vacation from Hershey, Pennsylvania to El Paso, Texas.

Evan Buckley is the blonde, blue eye rascal who is always getting hurt and in trouble. He is the baby of the family but the only person who has ever paid attention to him is his big sister Maddie.

Edmundo Diaz is the young teen dad who got his best friend and girlfriend pregnant. He is the middle child and was the sane one compared to sisters until now.

They say if you want to be treated like an adult act like an adult. How are supposed to act like an adult at eighteen years old, haven’t been out of high school even a month, being dragged home by the cops and being scolded at the front door or being yelled in your childhood bedroom. Sometimes this makes you want to run away.     

----

It is June of 2011.

The city of El Paso, Texas school district has let for summer break and held graduation for this year’s high school seniors, they are no longer twelfth graders.

They are adults or as much as one can feel like an adult at eighteen years old, and silently sobbing in your childhood bedroom, hugging your worn-out stuffed animal dog with your back pressed against the door, trying not to wake your napping infant son who in his crib as your mother is yelling at you.

“Edmundo Diaz, you are in so much trouble young man. Open this door right now! You live under in my house. You live by my rules and aren’t too old to be put over my knees. Just wait until your father gets home. I can’t do deal with you.”

Edmundo Diaz or Eddie as he prefers being called was a good catholic boy. He never misbehaved or caused trouble but a little too soft, that was until Shannon showed up. They met in the eighth grade. They became best friends and were inseparable until they lose touch but found their way back to each other. She introduced herself being all sweet and friendly. She was sunshine. His family hated Shannon. They said she was a bad influence on him and he started acting different after meeting her. She was his first kiss, his first girlfriend, this first time. Good catholic boys wait until marriage, she is his first and only.

Shannon will back soon, she is visiting colleges in California. When she comes back they will make a plan for themselves and for their beautiful baby boy, Christopher. For now, he has been having never ending fights with his parents. It is about how stupid he was getting a girl pregnant while still in high school and a teenager or how he needs to toughen up or grow up. It is kind of hard to grow up when nobody goes around hiring eighteen-year-old and your parents are still treating you like a child.

“Edmundo, how could you let this happen? You and Shannon are still kids. You are barely able to take care of yourselves. How are you supposed to take care of a baby?”

---

Inspired By This Photo:

[anarcoqueer1994]

Still on a Steve likes Barbie kick and I'm going to keep putting that into the universe.

When Steve was 5 years old, he used to go to the store whenever his parents were in town, where they would buy him toys to make up for the fact that they were never there. It was back when they would still pretend they cared, feigning love between long bouts of absenteeism and moments of his fathers violent temper. He could get any 'boy' toy he wanted. Over the trips, he had gotten baseball stuff, a Fisher Price Farm set, a toy plane, Matchbox and Hot Wheel Cars; honestly, he had any toy a boy could want. But he wanted something else.

He would always pass the pink aisles filled with toys that were supposed to be for girls, and he was enthralled with one toy in particular. Nestled between the baby dolls and the easy bake ovens were pretty Barbie dolls with fantastic outfits and soft brushable hair. And he wanted one so badly. He would always ask for one and every time he was met with harsh words from his father. "Steven, don't be a pansy. Boys don't like Barbies unless they are sissies. Are you a sissy, Steven? Do you want your friends at school to find out?"

Steve always shakes his head, dejected. He then goes and picks out a boy toy, a toy his dad won't be mad at him about. But one day, something changes. One of the nice women who worked at the store, Mrs. Munson, had watched as Steve continuously was shot down by his father . She felt bad for him, so that day, as she checks them out, she slips a Growing Hair Barbie into the bag discretly along with the Lincoln Logs, before handing little Steve the bag, winking kindly at him as she does.

And Steve immediately goes home and runs up to his room, hiding the packaging under his bed before playing with the doll. He loved her hair and dress, and everything about her. She was glamorous and beautiful, everything Steve wanted.

He would sneak her with him everywhere, even slipping her in his backpack when he would go to the playground. Today was one of those days, going to the park with his nanny, as his parents were in Chicago. He would run and hide behind a tree, out of sight from his nanny, where he could play quietly with the doll.

He is so wrapped up in his game that he doesn't notice someone walking up next to them until they sit down on the ground beside them. Steve looks over to see a boy from his school in the grade above him. Panic fills his face as he tries to hide the doll. Even back then, his father instilled shame in him whenever he was doing something that wasn't traditionally masculine.

But boy smiles at him, one tooth missing from where the baby tooth fell out. "Hi, I'm Eddie. Can me and my dragon," he motions to the plastic figure in his hand, "play with you? Your doll looks cool and maybe can be a princess. Or knight, or a knight princess." Eddie starts to ramble.

Steve scrunches up him nose, confused that the other boy isn't making fun of him. "Wait, you wanna play with me and my Barbie, even though I'm a boy?"

"Yea! It gets lonely playing by myself and you looked like you were having fun!"

"Oh." Steve looks down, unsure how to feel. He really wants to play but what if the other boy just is playing a joke on him. "My dad says Barbie is a girls toy."

Eddie laughs. "My dad says that junk too, but my mommy says toys are for everyone, no matter what. We can play with whatever. So can we play, um...I forgot to ask your name?"

Steve can't help but smile at the kind words. "Sure! And I'm Steve. Oh and Barbie is definitely a princess knight and she is going slay your dragon!" He giggles.

The boys spend the rest of the afternoon playing together until his nanny calls for him. On the bench near her, he sees the lady from the store and watches as Eddie leaves with her.

They play again the next few times they are at the playground, always hiding the Barbie from the nanny so he doesn't get in trouble. But Steve loves it, making up adventures for Steve’s Barbie and Eddie’s dragon. Steve thinks Eddie could be his best friend.

One day, though, his parents are actually in town, and they make a show of taking him to go and play instead of the nanny. He doesn't think anything of it. They do this all the time to show other people they care. Steve and Eddie fall into their regular routine, but Mr. Harrington seems far more observant of Steve than the nanny, always acutely aware of Steve's actions so he can meet sure his son does not embarrass him.

He can see Steve's legs sticking out from behind the tree and the legs of another boy. He decides to walk closer to "check on" (read: make sure he isn't hanging out with the wrong kids). Steve does not notice until he is being yanked up by the back of his collar, fear filling his eyes as he looks at Eddie. He drops the doll out of panic.

"Steven Michael Harrington, what the fuck are you playing with?" His voice is low but stern.

"I...I..." Steve begins to stutter, a tear forms in his eye.

"You're not that stupid boy, answer me." His father is still speaking with gridded teeth.

"A Barbie, sir." He whispers.

"Where did you that?" His dad presses

"I...." Steve looks around, doesn't want to get Eddie’s mom in trouble, and is unsure what to say as he stands in front of his father scared.

"I gave it to him. It's mine." Eddie lies before Steve can say anything, watching what is happening, seeing the same fear in Steve’s face that he has felt when his dad has one too many drinks.

Steve goes to speak, but before he can, Mr. Harrington is pulling Steve away, leaving the doll abandoned on the ground. He yells out "Do not talk to my son anymore." Steve tries to protest, but his dad just grips his hand tighter around his wrist, shutting him up.

Eddie goes home with the doll that night, knowing Steve won't be allowed to talk to him anymore. He spends the night crying on his mother's lap, as Steve cries alone in his room over the loss of his first friend and his special doll.

~~

Years passed, and they don't talk, Steve too scare when he was younger to disappoint his dad, and by the time he is old enough to stand up for himself, he thinks iits too late. Things change, the Harrington parents being around less and less, Eddie’s mother passing, and his uncle Wayne taking him in. Steve grows into the all-American boy his father wanted him to be, and Eddie leans more and more into letting his freak flag fly.

But then the upside-down happens, and Steve grows some .ore, and then there was Spring break, and he is running with Eddie’s near lifeless body out of there, barely getting him to the hospital in time. But Eddie recovers, and they grow close again.

Everyone around them can see their mutual crush, but it is Eddie who makes the first move. Nearly 5 months after Vecna, Steve finds a shoe box wrapped in newspaper on his front porch. The note attached reads

"Would you still be my princess-knight? Maybe we can try our play dates again, except maybe we make it a real date?-Eddie"

When Steve opens the box, inside is his original Barbie from all those years ago with a pretty pink rose. Eddie had kept it all this time. He can feel a tear rolling down his cheek. Eddie cared enough to keep her.

It doesn’t take long before Steve is heading to Eddie's, ready to show him how appreciative he is.

[adhd-puppet]

An apple a day keeps the doctor away. Dr. Wally Darling x patient child reader

This is my first ever story ever. I am working with a new Welcome Home AU that takes place on a children's hospital. Wally and his friends as the staff. I really like the idea and wanted to get my feet wet with a small little story/ prompt.

Y\N is a young child, who has a rare disease that makes their Immune system very weak. Sadly they spend more time in the hospital then at home. This has made them become very close with Wally and his friends kind of like a second family, but Wally is their favorite. Today he is finishing his rounds, as he sees Y/N he hopes to bring a smile to their face.

Dr. Darling was waking down the bright and colorful hallway, he was just about to finshie his rounds for the day. He always make sure to stop and see each of his young patents personality, many of them alone, their families having gone for the day. Just to help them feel more comfortable, he knew how scary it could be in a place like this and not always understand what's going on. He stoped as his eyes go through his list, he only had one more patent to see, Y/N. He sighs sadly to himself. Y/N was here often, more oftne then not, they had a rare disease, one that made their Immune system so weak a common cold could be deadly. Luckily they were recovering well and should be able to go home soon.

Because of just how often they were here, Wally and his friends became like a second family to the child. With their family having to work to pay the medical expenses Y/N didn't get to see them often. Y/N loved the staff and was not scared when they were there. Barnaby was funny and always made them smile and laugh when he stoped by. Sally and Julie kept their Imagination alive with their plays and silly stories. Poppy was like a mother, baking treats and goodies for them and the other children. Eddie always brought them to the hospital and made sure the trip was as easy for them as possible. Though they did not get to see Frank or Howdy often, the two were also kind and always taught Y/N something new whenever they met. Still Wally was Y/N's favorite, he was so kind, and made them feel less lonely and special, they loved his werid laugh and soft voice. Despite this all it hurt them all to see a child go through this. Shaking his head from the thought he put his best smile in and knocked on the door and called out, "Y/N I am here for your check up".

Y/N looked up from a book their were reading and smiles happily. "Wally!! Your here". Their voice happy but tried. The room was colorful, bright and closer to that of a typical child's room then that of a hospital. The room was Y/Ns, filled with toys, stuffed animals, books and many childish drawings of Wally and his friends. It felt, sounded and even smelled less like a hospital, so that they could feel at home.

Wally kept his smile on as he walks over to the bed. Y/N was on, to check on the medical equipment Y/N was attached to and the IV, making sure to re fill it with their mediation. "How are you feeling today? Any better?" He asks them, stopping his work to give the child his full attention.

"I am doing better, I did not cough a lot and I was not tried all day! I even got to go to the play room." Y/N says, before letting out a little yawn.

He lets out his trademark laugh, "you definitely seem better, in fact I think your be able to go home in a couple of days." He tells them, after taking another look at their chart.

"Really?!" They ask, their eyes bright a even bigger smile on their face.

He nods "Yes, your doing a lot better, I think just a little more time and we will send you home with some medicine." It was always a hope when they sent them home it be the last time, it never was, a couple weeks later they were back tried, sick and sad. If only a cure could be found. No child should be forced to miss out on life, school, fun and freedom. Then a little thought came to his mind, just a small silly thought. "Y/N how you ever head the expression, An Apple a Day Keeps the Doctor away?"

They look at him and shake his head, "No Wally, I never have, do you mean if I eat a apple every day it will scare you away?! I don't want to do that" They say shocked their eyes wide.

Again the room was filled with his laugh as be shakes his head. "No, silly it means that if you eat a apple everyday, you will stay healthy and won't have to see the doctor. You wont have to come here anymore".

"Wait...that would mean I won't be able to see you...and the others..? You guys dont like me anymore?!" Y/N looked upset their eyes starting to water, yes they hated to be sick but they also loved everyone here, it made being sick not as bad, and with missing so much school Y/N had trouble finding and keeping friends. For them they only had their parents and the staff here and the thought of not seeing them anymore was breaking their heart, their grip on their book getting tighter.

Wally bit his lip, his little idea quickly backfiring on his as he shakes his head quickly and gives the child a serious but still kind look. "No Y/N we never stopped liking you, your sweet, funny, strong and deal with to much for someone so young. What I mean is we want you to get healthy and enjoy your life, a hospital is no place for a child to grow up in. You should be able to play outside, go to school, and enjoy everything life has to offer. We all care about you and everyone who comes through these doors, but our goal is to make sure when you leave you don't have to come back". His voice was kind as he hopes he reaches the child.

Y/N wipes the tears from their eyes their voice a little weak as they speak. "Will...you re..remember m..me?" They ask this voice shaking.

He can't help but smile softly again and nod. "We will never forget you, helping children to life a happy life is what we love to do, and every time we help someone we know that their life is all the better after. It may be hard at first, but your strong Y/N, and once your healthy you can face anything your life will throw your way. I just hope you don't forget me and the others.." he says with a coy smile.

Y/N eyes widen at Wallys kind words their eyes still forming more tears as they lean forward and hug the small man. "Of ..c.ccouse not..I wi..will never...forgot..you guys." They say between their crying.

He was a little taken back, at the studden hug but carefully he returns the hug, patting their back, as he gently tries to help them claim down. Their crying getting softer, as the tried feeling came back. The warmth of the hug and the thought of someone caring for them helping to allow their mind to settle down. Wally carefully lays them down on the bed and takes the picture book and lays it on the nightstand. "I will hold you to that promise, and now I want you to make a promise to me."

"What is it ..wally?" They ask as they yawn and close their eyes. sleep just about to take them.

"That you will get healthy. Live a happy life and eat an apple a day to keep me away?" The only answer he got from that question was a single nod and a "I..promise Wally". Y/N falling into a peaceful sleep.

Wally sighs, as he covers them up and stands up to leave. "And I promise you, that we will find a cure, so that a apple a day really does keep me away." He made a promise and he would not break it.