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trashmouth-richie · 1 year

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Eddie x fem! Reader [masterlist]

Prev | vol viii

Summary: November 1st, Steve’s birthday celebration, a new friend is brought into the mix, Eddie’s past is revealed.

Trigger Warning: no minors pls, language, drinking, reader wears Eddie’s jacket, fluff, angst.

W/C: 11.5k

@jo-harrington + @ghost-proofbaby for beta reading this a tiny bit for me

The sun is waning through your curtains, blinding your eyes with a light so bright it’s like you’re staring into a flashlight. The ominous whirring of your fan oscillates, sending a chilling breeze across your room

Silently thanking yourself for taking ibuprofen before falling asleep last night, the pounding in your head is minimal, but the scratchy dryness of your throat is a steady reminder of the impromptu karaoke singing and the toe to toe chain smoking contest you bullied Eddie into. Your former drunker self turned cockier with every drink.

“I bet you… this house! This fucking house! That I can smoke more cigarettes than you can at once,” you slurred in a buzzed stupor as you swayed your body with the faint music of REO Speedwagon, your finger pressed into his chest where the fabric v’d open.

Red eyed and already higher than Willie fucking Nelson, Eddie grins wider than the Cheshire Cat, dipping low to your ear to whisper, “game on, sweetheart, but we’re smokin reds not your menthol shit.”

News flash. You couldn’t out smoke Eddie. And your burning croaky throat was proof of that.

Feet on the floor, your cold toes inching towards purchase against the carpet for your slippers. Opening your eyes, you assess the room. The Eddie costume you proudly wore all night, was strewn across your floor, complete with the wig. A rumbly laugh reverberates through your lungs along with a horrendous hacking cough. The memory of Jeff wearing it and imitating Eddie jogs across your mind. The way Eddie pouted and glared through his lashes made you smile sweetly at the memory.

A quick glance at your body in the mirror shows that you’re still wearing the soft black DIO shirt from lastnight, but thankfully you changed into pajama pants.

Another rough barking cough against your already achy throat surrenders it’s vices and begs for water. Opening the door you are met with a freezing chill. Eyes blinking in the bright sun from the windows in the living room, you take note of the heaps of bodies snoring and drooling amongst the floor.

Mike and El are cuddled up like two little kittens against the back corner in the living room, her blonde wig used as a pillow, Mike’s Mad Hatter jacket and his arm draped over her. Finding yourself gawking at the sweetness of seeing them curled into each other, you wonder if you would ever have a great love like they did. Your stomach leaps when the one crossing your mind is Eddie.

It was wrong. You shouldn’t be feeling this way about your brother’s friend, your roommate for fucks sake! He was everything you hated about the male population. Loud, annoying, an absolute pervert. Messy beyond belief, couldn’t boil a goddamn egg. But, he was also gentle, kind, and caring. Your yearning heart ached for his touch like the day he held you close to his chest during your darkest hour.

Not to mention he was cute. Okay, that’s a lie. Eddie was hot, in that rugged ‘I-don’t-give-a-fuck’ kind of way. Different from most guys in Hawkins, who were obsessed with their appearance, their family name. Eddie didn’t care, he was just himself. Always had been, always would be. And something about that cocky demeanor, burying the kindest heart you’ve ever come across, made your heart stutter in your chest.

Would he hold you like Mike was holding El if you were his? Would he cover you in kisses and do cliche things with you like matching couples costumes on Halloween? Something deep inside told you he would.

“Cute aren’t they?”

You jump out of your skin at the low, velvet voice, not realizing he was awake, your hungover mind foregoing the aroma and slow drip of black coffee being made. Too wrapped up in thinking about him to notice that he had approached you on your left, his messy curls swing against your cheek as he had bent down to your ear.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” he says with a chuckle.

You turn and look at him, he’s so close to you your noses almost touch. The tickling shock of nervousness from last night returns and travels up your spine, curling into your hair, igniting every hair follicle, a burning welcomed pleasure against your scalp. A quirked smile on his lips as you take a step back.

Blinking slow, you take him in. His smile could melt the polar ice caps, that goddamn panty dropper grin, you curse yourself silently for feeling the heat on your neck. He’s wearing black sweats, cut above the knee and rolled at the hem from many washes. A horrendously sawed off cut t-shirt adorns his broad shoulders. The same raw hems rolling inward, exposing a silver hoop in his nipple. The sun catching the steel ring and casting a blinding glare against it. He tips the coffee mug he’s holding back to his lips, emptying the contents in one gulp. The smell of potent orange juice fills your nose as you stare at his lips. His tongue poked out to lap up the last spilled drops.

“No, you’re fine—I didn’t realize you were up,” you explain, rubbing sleep from your eyes. Peering around him at the small wooden clock on the wall, it’s only 8:30, “didn’t know you were aware that there was an 8:30 AM on Sundays.”

“Are you always this witty in the morning?”

“It’s a gift,” you say with a smirk, “consider it a blessing, you’re late by the way.”

“Late for what?” The lazy way he smiles at you should be a crime.

A coy smile on your lips, “Sunday Service.”

Eddie snorts a laugh and grabs his side, wincing slightly, “agh, don’t make me laugh,” he groans, “I think I fucked up my back or something from falling down those steps last night.”

“…twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six…”

Gareth turned his head from the spout engulfing deep breaths from the chilled night air. Argyle and Jonathan let his feet back down to the deck. Standing next to Nancy and Ash, you whoop and holler along with everyone else, cheering on the new Keg Stand Champion. Gareth, stands on wobbly legs, taking a deep breath, he shouts, “And that's how it’s d—“

Before he can finish his victory speech, he projectile vomits all over Big D. Covering him shoulders to waist in foamy chunks of party food and the cheap keg beer. Laughter erupts from Eddie, he throws his wild hair back in amusement. Clutching his stomach and choking on the smoke from the joint he had just inhaled. Karma, proving again that she’s a cunt, Eddie leans back just far enough to fall backwards down the five steps to the ground.

“Jesus down, Jesus down!” Eddie exclaimed, roaring with laughter.

Concerned, you delicately reach for his wrist and move his hand away from his ribs. A small splatter of deep purpling color against his alabaster skin suggests that they are more than likely bruised from the fall. The dainty touch of your fingers on his body sends goosebumps against his flesh, and it wasn’t because your hands were cold. He swallows hard, adoration in his brown eyes as he takes in your smell, how messy your hair was, the hum on your lips as you observe him, pressing the pads of your fingers into his skin.

Who would have thought that simple minuscule touches from you could cause a frenzy in his blood. He thought the hair washing would bring him to his knees, but this? He didn’t realize he stopped breathing until you spoke.

The hitch in his throat is dismissed by you, “sorry, my fingers are probably freezing,”

He murmurs, something along the lines of “it’s fine,” but you barely hear it.

His skin is surprisingly smooth. Women spend hundreds of thousands of dollars in their lifetime to have perfect skin, and here Eddie Munson was, baby soft skin on a metal head’s body. You take the time to admire the exposed tattoo on his ribs next to the bruises. Tracing your finger over the triangled black ink outlined in red, angry against his skin. You’ve seen the symbol before but never understood what it was. An eight laying sideways, in the overlapping section is a cross with two lines instead of one.

Seconds fade to minutes of your fingers tracing his skin. Neither you or Eddie have said a word. Unhurried migrations on your fingers skate across the alabaster, feeling for any broken bones, but only feeling the velour cream of his skin beneath your hands.

Clearing your throat, you look into his blown out eyes, “I —um,” the air is thick between you both, making it hard to breath, or it could be the fact that the caramel pools of his eyes are pouring into yours, “ looks like it’s just bruised,” you say, slowly moving your fingers away from his skin. Your nails scratching his skin casually. And a quick intake of breath hisses between his teeth.

Eddie’s voice comes out shakier than he would have liked, he licks his lips, “o-oh good.”

He casts his eyes downwards, his fingers tug gently at the sleeve of the DIO shirt you’re still wearing from last night. His eyes find yours again, the browned oasis beckoning you, “are you still mad at me for winning the costume contest?” he asks in almost a whisper, lips barely moving, his focus full on the way your soft skin under your shirt feels against his calloused fingers.

The jump in your lower belly ignited the flame within you, sending burning hot coals to your core at his ghosting fingers on your arm. You blink rapidly and scoff. Rolling your eyes to extinguish the flames, you force yourself away from him, brushing past him, your shoulder grazing his chest sends more fire through your veins, a last attempt on keeping the heat blazing. “I was never mad,” you explain. Opening the cabinet with shaky hands and grabbing a white mug with tiny yellow flowers on the rim, you take a deep breath to steady your voice, turning it into a makeshift yawn, “who do you think decides who wins the contest anyway?”

Pouring the hot black coffee into the mug the aroma fills the room. Creamer sloshes against the liquid mixing merrily into a toffee colored dream.

Eddie leans against the counter, taking a piece of candy from the plastic jack-o-lantern dish and twisting the ends between his fingers, the orange hardened sugar melting slow on his tongue.

“You voted for me?” he asks earnestly, his head bowed in bashfulness, “you’re going to make me blush, sweetheart,” he coos, swirling the candy around his mouth, clacking against his teeth as he tries to hide a smile.

Sipping the piping hot coffee gingerly between your lips, you shrug, “not every day I get to see you acting so holy, thought we should capitalize on the opportunity, plus, it really was one hell of a costume.”

The bubblegum blush on Eddie’s cheeks make him look like a teenager, twisting his hair as if he just received his first kiss.

“I don’t know, I kinda liked yours,” he said matter of factly.

“That’s cause you’re full of yourself,” you say with a teasing tone, sticking out your tongue, and coughing roughly again.

Eddie’s eyebrows pull inward, a mocked scoff on his lips, “I refuse to take insults from someone who sounds like my Uncle Wayne— told you you couldn’t hang with the big dogs— but no, Tooty doesn’t listen.”

You dismiss him with a suggestive middle finger and a smirk as you sip the coffee again, “I can do anything I want, you’re not my babysitter.”

Neither of you knew that Robin and Steve were both awake, listening intently to your light banter, your giggling voices as you teased each other. The way yours pitched in a high squeal when Eddie’s hands tickled your sides and you tried to fight him off with the paper towel row.

The two friends sit side by side on the couch, smiling widely at one another, wondering when you would let eachother in.

It was noon before Gareth woke up, a combination of dried puke and drool on his face. The other four party go-ers had already left and did the sad walk of shame out to their vehicles. Both Robin and Steve give you weird looks and wide glances all morning, you even noticed Steve wiggling his eyebrows.

Yawning and reeking of alcohol. The loud snores from Gareth’s slack mouth could awaken the residents lying 6 feet under in East Hawkins. He’s laying with his head in a popcorn bowl, a poorly drawn sharpie penis crudely coloring his cheek, thanks to Eddie. The cold puke slowly oozing from the bowl onto himself has your stomach lurching.

Eddie finally woke him by shaking his shoulders violently, yelling into his face, “dude! You’re gonna rattle the fucking house off the foundation with that deafening snore, Christ almighty!”

Gareth stirred alive, swinging his arms frantically. “Fuck, man, scare the hell out of me why don’t ya!”

“Oh relax, trust me— it was either this or the Tooty method,” Eddie says with a grin motioning to you standing behind his shoulder holding a cup of cold water, a devilish smirk on your face, “seriously though, get up you smell like two-week-old rotten asshole.”

After Gareth and Eddie argue over why he has a dick drawn on his face, and Eddie swearing it wasn’t him, Gareth bumps his fist into Eddie’s and waves goodbye as he stands at the front door, and addresses you, “helluva party Tooty, hopefully I didn’t make too much of a mess and you’ll invite me again next year,” his easy smile is something you’ve never seen directed at you. Of all Eddie’s bandmates, Gareth was the hardest to read.

“Duh, you’re the reigning keg stand champion, you gotta make a return,” you smile back.

Gareth laughs, his floppy thick hair matted from the habit he wore all night, “think my keg stand days are over.” He looks from you to Eddie, watching the way Eddie smiles at you adoringly, and he starts to finally get it. Understand why his friend acts the way he does around you. You’re easy to talk to, friendly, kind, once you let your guard down. He looks to Eddie again as you turn and walk back to the kitchen, giving him a knowing glance shifting his eyes to you, and nodding his head once in approval, “see ya around dickhead,” he jokes to his oldest friend, his role model, his brother.

“Why the fuck do I have to wear this?” Eddie groans, pulling at the stiff collar on his shirt, buttoned too tight around his neck, not used to material that wasn’t leather or soft cotton, the metalhead was crabby and uncomfortable in the borrowed maroon button down shirt and black skinny tie from Harrington, “I look like a bible salesmen!”

Steve’s birthday was tonight and he requested to have dinner at his favorite restaurant in Indianapolis. He had gotten a big promotion at work the week after Halloween and was in need of a little celebration before the task of being executive director started.

Slotting silver iridescent dangly earrings you had borrowed from Nancy into your ears and adjusting the matching choker against your throat, you take the last curler out from your hair and fluff it with your fingers to give it shape. You holler from closed confinements of your room, “it’s for Steve’s birthday, not your birthday— quit being a big baby!”

Stepping your tights into the borrowed black velvet pointed heels, and smoothed down the black velour mini dress with the spaghetti straps you had bought last week from an ad in the paper about selling prom dresses for cheap. The material was snug against your curves fitting like a glove. Your makeup was darker than you would have normally done on any other given day but since this was such a fancy event for one of your closest friends— you smoked out a brown eyeshadow across your lids and added a heavy coat of mascara to your lashes with a thin line of eyeliner. Your favorite lipstick swiped delicately across your lips.

Looking at yourself in the mirror, you are pleased at your reflection. A patch of doubt trickles up your chest making you question if you should change. Is it too much? Is it over the top? But all that comes to a halt when loud banging is heard on your door. Stopping your spiraling shame cold in its tracks.

“Tooty?” Eddie raps on the door, “Steve just pulled up. You ready or are we leaving your ass at h—”

For the first time in Eddie’s life he is speechless. Not counting the time that his jaw was wired shut for 6 months when he took his skateboard off the roof of Gareth’s house in middle school.

Tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, dry and itchy like eighty grade sandpaper. His eyebrows are lifted, tucked beneath his bangs. It’s as if everything was going in slow motion, he couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, he was stunned by the drop dead gorgeous woman in front of him.

Your beauty wasn’t something that just happened in a movie with you pouncing down the stairs to some cheesy song with your friends clapping at the top and high-fiving over their “miracle makeover”. Eddie just simply wasn’t accustomed to seeing you dressed up like this.

It’s taking everything in him to not spring forward like a rabid dog and close the gap between you. Slot his lips against yours. A desperate, needy kiss so full of urgency that your head would spin. He’d keep you in the spinning wonderland until both of you were seconds from passing out. Dizzy from the floating clouds and blissful euphoria soaring around in his arms. He wants to grab your waist, wants to fist his fingers around the nape of your neck, wants to see the way your mouth would open with a gasp as he kissed your collar bone, so sweetly, so delicately— his name a whisper on your breath. He’d kiss your lips until they were chapped, sore, and tender to match his. Then he’d kiss them better, his lips the antidote, curing your craved pain.

He’d give anything— his van, his guitar, the band whatever it took— just to get a taste. In this dream land he’s everything you wanted, everything you needed. You loved him, adored him. Accepted his flaws, his past, his scars. He’d hold you tight while you slept, your head tucked into the crook of his neck, stealing sleepy kisses on your hair, enamored by the perfume of your hair, intoxicated, drugged by the lust of your skin. He’d learn how to cook, make you delicious meals, clean the house, do the laundry, be the perfect man. All for you.

He wanted to feel your body forming and molding around him. Yearned to know the valleys of your body, each curve, each beauty mark, each scar visible or not. If it weren’t for his heart hammering into his ears he would have thought he had gone deaf for sure.

You’re talking but he can’t hear you.

He’s still in the dream land, dancing on Saturn’s rings, cooling his feet in Jupiter’s springs, holding your hand and taking you higher with him. Your smile taking flight in his chest and ascending you along the majestic sights of the Milky Way. Completely gone from this world. A world where you were his, and he was yours.

The more he fantasizes it— the more the impossibility of this dream increases. His bravado falls, crashing through the sparkly dream with fluffy clouds, falling further down. Away from you. Away from the dream he wanted, craved to be reality.

He fell through the clouds, clinging to your fingers, would you reach out for him? Help him? Save him?

Would you ever want to be his? He was Eyeball’s friend, Prince of the Trailer Park, probably annoyed you more than Eyeball himself did. You were beautiful and put together, and him? He was lint in the dryer, causing house fires when forgotten about. Voted most likely to end up in prison for the graduating class of ‘85 and ‘86. A failure, a crack in the sidewalk you’d avoid to break your mother’s back as a kid.

Avoid the trailer park trash. Avoid Eddie Munson.

So he pushed the thoughts away, the ooey galaxy of cotton candy trees and rainbow lollipops— fading back to black as he fell faster harder, back to reality. The dead, decaying ashen life of shitville Hawkins, Indiana. Where reality came in the form of working long days to barely survive. A name branded to his soul, weathered and tarnished like forgotten silverware in a rich dementia riddled woman’s home.

Nothing. Munson trash. The town freak. Social outcast. Scum in the drain. Bastard child.

“Earth to Eddie!”

A snap of your fingers and the impatient wrinkles between your brow bring his soul back to his body.

“S-sorry,” he stuttered, wiping his clammy palms on the thighs of the cleanest pair of black jeans he owned, “We—uh,” blush creeps to his cheeks, adamant to push it down, to the cobwebbed box in his brain that never opened, he grabs your hand and starts to yank you towards the door, a gruff annoyance in his voice, “let’s go.”

You’re crestfallen.

Oblivious to his inner intergalactic battles of hoping that he was good enough for you but deep down knowing he never would be.

Not anywhere near the suaveness of Casanova he pretends to possess on most days, motor-mouth Munson was all out of gas. Spending his last tank, last drop of fuel taking you to the moon and spinning you amongst the stars.

Steve is wearing a black suit, standing against a new SUV, shiny ink black like the velvet of your dress, and the pretty girl’s hair standing next to him, she’s wearing a purple velour sweetheart neckline dress, with rhinestone straps, her shoulders are bare until the dress continues to cover her arms, into a full sleeve. Robin is hanging out of the back passenger side window, a tie hung loosely around her neck and a white button down tailored shirt adorning her body. Waving a bottle of Boonesfarm around.

“Come on! Let’s party like it’s 1984! Before Steve had this new bitchin’ car and still half of his virgini—“

“Robin!” Steve scolds, threading his fingers through his hair, the girl on his arm shooting Robin a pleasurable laugh, her hand on Steve’s chest.

Eddie is still dragging you along, hurrying you along. In a rush but not saying a word. “Eddie, Jesus Christ, stop, I have to get my purse,” you yank your wrist from his grip and take a step backward. Silent and fuming, your arms crossed over your chest. Looking up at him with water brimmed eyes, corners of your mouth turned downward in a confused frown.

It’s the same expression he had seen during the first few days he had moved in, when he hurt you.

Shaking his head with a huff he descends the concrete steps and stands next to Robin, clutching the Boonesfarm bottle and taking a long hefty swig, wallowing in his own self pity and self doubt of never being good enough for you.

Of course this is how it would be with you. Why would you ever want him when there are people like Steve Harrington in the world. Offering you anything and everything you could ever need. And what could he offer you? Nothing. A tainted name and a ring pop replacing a diamond.

He wasn’t good enough for Chrissy, wasn’t good enough for Trish. How would you be any different? Swallowing his pride with each swig of the sugary Boonesfarm, he tries his hardest to push the idea of you wanting to be with him, wanting anything other than someone to take up space and pay rent on time, out of his mind.

“Tooty,” Steve says, waving you over once you shut the door to the house and locked it, “Eddie, this is Leighanne, my girlfriend.”

A smile breaks on your face, pure unadulterated joy for your friend. The way his face lit up saying girlfriend, the way they’re clutched together, a perfect match, him looking adoringly into her face, staring in wonder and awe as she beams a radiating light back up to him— it’s sugar sweet.

A low ache in your chest fires again, whatever had burned for Eddie was now boiling on high heat but the pot was empty.

You thought that maybe he… hadn’t he? The bitter truth stinging your tongue, not admitting it to yourself. Not allowing yourself to think any further on the subject, you extend your smile to Leighanne. Pleasantries in your voice as you push down your own worrying heart and open it up to hear all about how Leighanne and Steve met.

“Damn, new fancy job and a car to match— never seen one of these in real life before Harrington.”

Steve dives into the story of him trading in his car for the G Wagon, a year old and less than 10,000 miles. Eddie asked questions and walked around the vehicle with Steve as he kicked the tires and inspected the paint job.

The ride to Indianapolis was full of Leighanne’s bright laugh, teasing Steve and joking with Robin. Her fingers never unlaced from his. She was funny, charismatic in a way that complimented Steve. You’re stuffed in the middle in the backseat. Robin on your left and Eddie on your right, preoccupied with staring out the window.

He’s brooding, steeping like a tea bag in the heat of the sun. Only he’s cold, off putting and sulking. Not engaging once in conversation other than. Answering yes or no to Steve’s questions, giving little up.

And you were doing the same, trying hard to focus on what Robin and Leighanne were giggling about but finding Eddie’s bad mood taking you over. His pitch black aura sucking you in and consuming you. Dampening the celebratory night for your friend that hasn’t even begun because he’s irritated by God knows what. It’s the longest ride to Indianapolis you’ve experienced yet.

The restaurant is burnt brick with an old prohibition era feel to it. Low jazz music is playing by a live band in the back corner. Reservations for Harrington bring the five of you to a secluded area low lit with hues of blacks and coppers and mahogany wood filling the space, setting the ambience for a private affair. The round table is set with a cream colored silk cloth that alone probably cost more than the value of your house.

Steve pulls out a chair for Leighanne. A pinky rouge on her cheeks as she sits down delicately. Robin climbs next to her, body angled towards her, her feet on the seat of her chair.

Taking the seat next to Robin, Eddie takes the seat next to you, angling it ever so slightly away from you, his right elbow on the table, head facing away from you.

What the fuck?

Two waiters arrive holding a large round platter filled with various selections of wines, whiskey, and beers in stout glasses. Each one filled to the brim of the finest liquor ranging in black browned ale to lighter amber on one side, the others full of their house made brew, an inch head of foam in each glass, and wine ranging from white to a deep burgundy red.

Before the waiter can even walk away Eddie has two glasses of the dark colored whiskey in front of him, shooting them down like he’s at a high school party and has a curfew. “Shit man, these are for sipping, ya gotta ease into it a little,” Steve says with a chuckle. Eddie grabs another glass from the circle of the platter, sipping it slow between his lips, letting the fervor of the liquor burn his mouth, welcoming the burn.

Eddie hasn’t said a word to you all night. In fact— he’s ignoring you. Usually the first to start joking around, he’s completely sullen, sinking into his bad mood letting the veil of self loathing cover himself like a blanket, choking his insides. He’d converse with everyone but you. “Can you pass the pepper,” you’d asked after laughing obnoxiously with Leighanne about how Steve couldn’t throw a punch to save his life.

Silence.

“Eddie?” You ask again, “can you please pass me the pepper?”

Another ignored moment of silence from the brooding metalhead.

“Eddie! Hello!?”

Nothing.

A swift kick from Steve to the shins finally roused him alive, blinking his eyes slowly away from his glass, thumb moving over the condensation. “Dude—Tooty needs the pepper.”

Eddie looks at the pepper shaker with hooded, bored eyes, far from the conversation around the table. Trapped in the black box of dread in his mind. He scoots it closer to you but not enough by far. Scooting your chair back with a screech, you stand and lean across him, fully in his space. Encroaching on his doomed self with your perfume wafting into his nose. Your hairspray stinging his eyes when your hair brushes over your shoulder in front of him. It’s intoxicating. The way your necklace catches the light, as you lean over him hits his chest like a lightning bolt. b

A quick turn of your face and he catches your glare, heated and angry, but his eyes are soft, solemn, sad.

“Thanks, Eddie— really appreciate you helping me out there. Next time I’ll just lay across the table when I need something, or I could simply go fuck myself if that’s easier for you? Don’t want to interrupt whatever the fuck you’ve got going on.” you spit, venom on your lips dripping from your teeth as you aggressively shake the pepper on the salad.

Eddie stands abruptly, “going for a smoke,” he says to nobody in particular, Steve stands and follows him out, with the helping nudge of Leighanne’s elbow in his ribs.

The two guys strut outside, breathing in the night air, a flick of lighters and the burning, crinkling sound of the end of two cigarettes fills the almost barren sidewalk. A minute or so passes before Steve speaks first, “nice night out, considering it’s the middle of November.”

Eddie only nods, inhaling the smoke and trying to relax.

“You alright?”

Again, Eddie only answers with body movements, shrugging his shoulders, blowing smoke through his nose.

Steve inhaled his cigarette slow, “Tooty looks nice tonight.”

Eddie bites his bottom lip and rubs his eyes with this thumb. Smoke curling around him in a makeshift halo. “Yeah,” he finally speaks, nodding his head, a huffed chuckle on his lips, “she does, doesn’t she?”

“What’s going on, man?” Steve questions, “last I knew you were head over heels for her— now you’re ignoring her and acting like a jackass in there.” He says pointing to the door, “you’re gonna fuck this up before you’ve even let it start!”

Eddie shoves himself off the wall, the cobwebs on the box in his mind where he stored his pain, were wiped away, fingerprints on the lid, “oh give it up, Harrington.” Rubbing his hands down his face with a groan, “I’m— fuck, I’m so fucking stupid. Falling for someone like her.”

“What do you mean someone like her?” Steve asks frustrated, “fuck man you really are dumb aren’t you?”

“What?” Eddie asks, his chest puffed out in confusion, “this isn’t like some magic eight ball shaking it to see if your crush likes you Steve! That’s not how shit works!”

“You’re a dumbass! Even I can see that she’s hurt by the way you’re acting!” Steve shouts, stomping out his cigarette.

“Dude I’m not talking about this right now, back off,” Eddie pleads, flicking his cigarette into the street and attempting to walk around Steve.

“Why are you being an asshole and trying to shove her away?” Steve goads.

“I’m not.” Lid is off the box, contents exposed.

“Don’t be a douche fucking tell me!”

“Because she’s too fucking good for me!” Eddie finally screams into the night, throwing his hands up in the air.

The box is dumped out. Contents spilled out in his mind, hurt behind his eyes, for anyone to see.

He hangs his head, shoulders slumped forward, he slides down the wall and sits on the cool concrete, breathing heavily, “She’s— fuck, she’s never gonna want to be with someone like me, man.”

All of his self doubt from earlier tonight, all the pain he’s ever felt from being a neglected child, an outcast in school amongst his peers, being cheated on, lied to— it all came crashing down around him. All the alcohol he consumed wasn’t helping matters either.

He was a failure, in more ways than he could count. Twenty-six and just freshly moved out of his uncle’s place. Twenty-six and still playing in a band at the bar on the weekends. Twenty-six and still alone. Horribly, utterly, bitterly alone. Drowning himself in groupie pussy every night before he moved in with you. He hated himself.

“Has she said that? Did you ever think that maybe she doesn’t care what anyone else thinks? You think it was easy for her to stay in Hawkins after her parents up and left? After Kevin was thrown in prison? After that piece of shit Chad Cunningham hurt her? If there’s anything we know about Tooty it’s that she’s a fighter, she could have left at any time, packed her shit and never looked in the rear view mirror. But you and I know that she’s too damn stubborn to let Hawkins get the best of her.”

Eddie lifts his head, looking at Steve sitting beside him.

“She needs you, man, you’re good for her.”

Mansion dreams on a trailer park budget. He could never afford the things you deserved. He loathed the thought of anyone else being able to give you the things he couldn’t, the pit of his stomach rolling.

“I don’t know, Steve,” Eddie says, timidly throwing his curly head against the brick behind him, “I saw her today all dressed up looking so absolutely gorgeous, and it hit me, I could never give her the life she deserves.”

“Come on, man,” Steve chides, knocking his shoulder to Eddie’s, “you really think I would have told you about her needing a roommate and insisting that you go and look at the house, if I didn’t think you’d be good for each other?”

Eddie shrugs his shoulders again, the self doubt creeping back, putting the box back together.

“After Nancy moved out, I knew she was scared— she’d never say anything about it, but we worried about it. She needed someone around who she could trust. Robin and I couldn’t get out of our lease, but then you told me you were looking for a place, and honestly there isn’t anyone better for her than you.”

Eddie thinks on this for a few seconds. Steve was right, he did fuck this up. “Christ, she’s probably madder than hell at me right now,” he says with a groan.

“Yeah,” Steve agrees, standing and holding out a hand for Eddie, “you’ve got some making up to do.”

“Am I drunk, or is he acting weird as hell tonight, like more weird than usual?” Robin slurs, almost falling out of her seat as she whisper-yells across the table at you the minute Steve follows Eddie out the door.

“Oh, honey,” Leighanne whispers, holding Robin by her arm and guiding her back into the chair, “you’re very drunk, but also I’ve never met him, but he seems sad.”

Stewing in a pot of shame and regret, you try to tune Robin and Leighanne out. A shiver of hatred stirs in your chest, pulling at your heart strings and gnawing on the fleshy stretch cords until they’re rotting, black and withered.

How silly of you to be so nervous about wearing this dress, when Eddie only took one look at you and immediately turned sour. How stupid of you to think that he had somehow turned into a decent human being, a friend, a confidant, a shoulder to cry on when you were desperate and needing consoling. How fucking dumb of you to be so mad in this moment that he was ignoring you, acting like a complete jerk and ruining this nice evening by being a pouty child.

Fuck him, and fuck this.

Reaching for the now warm wine you toss it back, chugging until your throat ached. It’s easier to swallow than the embarrassing way you thought that Eddie was growing to like you. Your mistake.

Won’t happen again.

By the time the guys come back, you were slightly buzzed, feeling giggling with the bubbling of the flutes of champagne that had been brought out after the dinner was cleared from the table.

Steve slaps Eddie on the back and shakes his shoulders a bit, sitting down quickly beside Leighanne and whispering into her ear, she turns scarlet red as he nudges his nose down to kiss her neck. You turn your face away, ashamed again, for wanting a love like that so bad, yet sold short.

“You okay?” Robin asks Eddie. You can feel eyes on you, burning into the side of your face, but you won’t give him the time of day. To hell with him.

He answers her back, making up some lame excuse about not feeling good as to why he was acting like an asshole all night.

“Hmm,” you hum, raising your eyebrows and huffing. Tossing your napkin from your lap onto the table, grabbing another flute of champagne and downing it instantly, crossing your legs and leaning further away from him. “Isn’t that funny?”

“Tooty?” His voice is soft, dipped in butter and spread across a warm croissant. Almost timid the way he’s barely speaking above a whisper, you pretend not to hear him.

A nudge in your side goes unanswered as you turn your face towards an almost passed out Robin. Another poke to the ribs, a ticklish spot for anyone. A tap on your hand, fervent and annoying, your name repeated in high and low tones, as you actively avoid him. He finally stops, and when he does you take a shaky breath, right as your chair is flung backwards on the back legs, and you’re suddenly upside down, peering into Eddie’s face. That cocky Munson grin plastered onto it, the one you haven’t seen all night, sends shock waves to your core, and a burn to your chest.

Goddamn him.

“Put me down,” you emphasize with bitterness behind each word.

Eddie smiles widely, “not until you talk to me, sweetheart,”

“Oh look at that everyone, the pouting child act is over, guess we are blessed after all,” you spit back, crossing your arms and trying to wriggle the chair free.

His smile is pulled back slightly, voice dipped low as he leans forward slightly, “can we talk? Privately?”

You glare back at him, venomous cold eyes peering into his, hoping he understood how annoyed and hurt you were with the bullshit he’d been pulling for hours, “Congratulations on finding your voice Ariel, but if you don’t put my chair down I’ll—“

“What? You’ll do what?” Eddie bickers back with a grin, leaning closer you can smell his musky cologne, and the burnt scent of his cigarette on his breath. He enjoys watching you squirm and get pissed off at him. Something about the way you scold him sends him over the moon.

But, he could never anticipate what you would do next.

His hands on the back of your chair, you turn your head in a swift motion and find his thumb and bite down on it until he squeals and yelps in pain.

“…bite you,”

Instinct taking over Eddie pulls his hands from the back of your chair. And you start tumbling backwards. Falling falling, reaching backwards, you grab onto the first thing you can get your frantic hands on.

It all happens too fast, one minute you’re falling backwards, the next your fingers are gripped tight on the buckle of Eddie’s belt. Your breath hitched in your chest, as you grappled to stay upwards. In a swift motion Eddie grabs under your arms and the chair falls to the ground.

Eddie pulls you up, your body skimming his as he turns you around to face him. “Damn, I’m right here. No need to get so handsy,” he murmurs in a low husky laugh.

You take a deep breath to calm yourself, sudden shock of fear fading from your body as you look into his face. Even though he’s laughing, his pupils are blown and dark, eyebrows twisted inward, and raised, pulled into concern.

“Fuck Munson,” you say, straightening your dress, trying not to melt from the heat of Eddie’s hands on your waist, “trying to kill me?” The room was spinning, you hadn’t hit your head, but maybe the rush of falling backwards mixed with the alcohol you had drank was a combination for a migraine. Definitely not the way he was lazily drinking you in, his lips stretching into a wide, pretty smile.

“Kill you?” He scoffs, hands still heavy on your waist, rubbing slow circles with his thumbs, sending your nerves into a fizzing frenzy of want. “I’m not the one biting others, kitten.”

Of all the nicknames Eddie has called you— princess, sweetheart, baby— kitten was a new one. And you’re ashamed at the pulse in your core and the heat in your cheeks as his eyes twinkle like brown Christmas lights back at you, the flick of his tongue against his lips almost sends you into cardiac arrest.

“Hey—“ Steve interrupts, stepping into your peripheral vision, “—don’t mean to break this up—but we have a problem.”

“Alright guys, good news or bad news?”

Steve steps through the lobby door to the sidewalk, where you, Leighanne, Robin and Eddie were all waiting for him. The chill of the night air is biting through your tights and stinging your cheeks. Even in the cozy musky warmth of Eddie’s leather jacket that he insisted on you wearing, after listening to your chattering teeth for ten minutes, “here,” he announced, stopping abruptly and shucking the jacket off his arms, and wrapping it around your shoulders, “I swear you’re gonna chip your teeth with the way you’re chattering them, it’s annoying,” he said in a faux grumble, his voice mean but his face lighting up when you hurriedly slot your arms through his jacket. Inhaling his smoke musk and cool leather combination as it dizzied your mind.

Ever since the restaurant kicked you all out on account of being too drunk, you’d been walking to a hotel. The restaurant manager had refused to let Steve get his car from the valet because they thought he was too intoxicated to drive. And also denied him from using the phone to hail a cab. There was no other choice.

So that's what led you all here. Walking fifteen blocks— in heels, dresses and fancy shirts, to the nearest hotel. Well technically thirty blocks because the waiter gave Steve the wrong directions. Everyone was freezing, tired and crabby. The drunken happy stage left about twenty blocks back.

“Bad news, Harrington hit me,” Eddie gripes.

Steve brushes his fingers through his hair, “Okay, uhh—bad news… there’s only one room available, with two beds.”

“But, there’s one… two…three..four.. six of us!” Robin counts, hiccuping loudly and letting a giggle escape her slack mouth. Maybe the restaurant wasn’t wrong in kicking you all out after all.

“No— there’s five of us, but there is a chair!” Steve chimes, “that’s the good news!”

You knew what that meant, obviously you would be sharing a bed with Robin or Eddie, and given the fact that Robin was probably a good ten minutes away before she started throwing up like she was notorious for— you were about to share a bed with Eddie.

The room was small but decent. Maroon, itchy bedspreads with pilling fabric sat atop the beds, white linen sheets and overly stuffed pillows with matching cases shoved into the perfectly made beds. A tiny tv sat atop a chestnut dresser complete with channel listings and a remote velcroed to it. Leighanne crosses the room and immediately finds the furnace, cranking it up as high as it will go and shutting the drapes, she sits on the bed furthest from it, and begins taking her earrings out of her ears. Sighing with relief as the heavy dangly bejeweled gems clink onto the bedside table. Steve sits beside her, leaning forward and grabbing her ankle, delicately sliding the strappy heels from her sore feet, rubbing them between his hands and murmuring apologies to her, kissing her shoulder.

Eddie is kicking the toe of his boot into the carpet, hands pushed into his pockets and looking downward. The awkward question of who-will-sleep-where is weighing heavy on your mind, just when you’re about to ask him what he thinks, Robin pushes between you both and makes a mad dash to the bathroom. Like clockwork.

“I’m never letting her drink again!” Steve says with a huff, “every time, she does this every single time!”

You snort out an exhausted giggle, this night went to hell in a handbasket the minute you left Hawkins. The only thing left to do was laugh about it.

Leaning your body against the wall, you carefully step out of your heels, the dingy carpet a glorious welcome to your aching feet. Stretching your toes out and wiggling them against the carpet brings a sigh to your lips.

Body tired from the constant shivering and cramped calves, you couldn’t wait to get the dress off and feel the warmth of the blanket around you, cocooning yourself like a caterpillar in a chrysalis.

Fuck.

You didn’t have any clothes with you, just the dress you were wearing, tights and a black thong. If it was Eddie you’d be sharing a bed with, what the hell were you supposed to wear? The thought hadn’t even trickled into your mind until this very second as you noticed Eddie unlace his boots.

Panic riddles your body, fuck would you lay naked next to him? Should you keep the dress on?

“Hey,” Eddie whispers into your ear, reigning you back in with his velvet voice, “there’s a vending machine by the elevator, wanna come with me?”

His lips contort into a smirk, and his hair wisps against your cheek, tickling your skin as you turn into him. Still wearing his jacket the neckline covers your mouth and nose as you nod your head yes.

The low pile fibers of the emerald and turquoise hallway carpet feels plush and luxurious against your nylon toes. A welcomed dream to your throbbing feet. You focus on the intricate leaves pattern as you walk the hallway with Eddie, his socked feet thudding along softly in tandem with yours.

The silence is deafening, and you can practically hear your heart beat out of your chest when his knuckles ever so gently, ever so delicately, graze yours as he swings his hand when he walks.

“Think it’s this way,” Eddie says pointing a thick ringed finger down a hallway at a T intersection. “I’m so hungry I’m going to eat the carpet if I don’t find something to eat.”

“Should have ate while we were at the restaurant,” you poke at him, “but you were too busy being an asshole.”

Eddie chokes out a throaty laugh, “I saved your life, Tooty— how am I still an asshole?”

“I wouldn’t exactly call me-falling-because-you-tipped-my-chair-backwards saving my life, but whatever helps you sleep at night, sweetheart,” you barely choke out the last part before you burst into a too-tired giggle, hiding your mouth with the collar of his jacket.

His own nickname on your lips burns his insides, mocking or not he wanted to hear it again and again.

“You fight dirty, I had no idea you were into biting.” Eddie teases, his eyes bright and playful matching his smirk, the vending machine comes into view and his eyes light up even more, “oh fuck yeah, come to daddy!”

The black vending machine is lit with a flickering light over head. Eddie thumbs through his wallet and grabs out ten one dollar bills.

“Alright, sweetheart,” Eddie crooned, “pick your vice.”

Deciding on a package of orange squared crackers with cheese, Eddie buys a bag of chocolate cookies, chips, and two bags of candy.

Carrying five cans of pop from the pop machine and Eddie’s plethora of snacks, both of your arms are full.

“So back to you assaulting me—I’m going to take your dental record down to Hopper— I’m turning you in.”

Laughing harder than anyone should have at midnight, your laugh echoes off he walls and bounces around the hallway. Making Eddie’s heart soar with glee. “Turning me in huh?”

Eddie knocks his shoulder into yours, throwing you off balance slightly, “yeah, I’m turning you in, you could have rabies! And I could start foaming at the mouth in my sleep, you’re dangerous and when I get home I’m taking you to the vet!”

The flirty banter is undeniable between you, his giggles match yours as you pad slowly down the hallway. Cheeks burning, coy smiles filling the empty hallway.

Stopping in the hallway with one hip thrown out and a perfectly placed look of innocence on your face you ask in the sweetest voice you could muster, “I’m dangerous? Me?” Making sure you bat your lashes and pout your bottom lip.

Here it was, his opportunity to show you what you really meant to him. No longer laughing, his face turns very serious. Shuffling the snacks around in his arms so he has a hand free, he reaches up to your face, tracing the outline of your jaw and brushing the pad of his thumb delicately against your cheek.

“Baby,” he whispers, that velvet smooth voice on his tongue, eyes dipped in gold and yearning into your own, “I wouldn’t turn this cute face in even if you murdered that son-of-a-bitch, Mr. Derry.”

Heart rate increases, you’re sure there's a pulse where Eddie’s hand is placed on your cheek. The calloused pads of his thumbs stroking your cheek has you weak in the knees. Tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth.

“Cute?” You exclaim, feigning shock, heat trickling up your neck and planting itself into your cheeks, the warmth spreading below Eddie’s hand.

His eyes are trained on yours, flicking from your lips and back up again, and you know whatever he says next 100%, without a doubt shouldn’t be taken lightly.

“Tooty,” Eddie breathes, his voice melting around you, forming to every cell in your body and holding you tight. “You’re beautiful, and not just tonight…every single day.”

No one.

Not your parents.

Definitely, not Chad.

Nobody.

Has ever uttered those words to you. The final wall around your heart falls, crumbling at the base with Eddie holding a sledge hammer to it, begging to be let in.

This menace, prick, pervert, absolutely disgusting man. Has made you fall for him and without words has made it clear that he’s falling for you too.

Butterflies tickle your stomach the rest of the walk back to the room.

Steve and Leighanne are already asleep by the time you make it back, she’s wrapped tight against his bare chest, a hand threaded at the nape of his neck and through the tufts of his chest hair. His lips lay lazily against her forehead.

Robin took the comforter from the other bed and made a makeshift bed in the tub, Eddie places a can of 7-UP next to her, rustling her hair and making sure she’ll be okay for the night.

Flipping through the channels and leaning your back against the headboard, you find an episode of the Golden Girls, opening your snack crackers and nibbling into them,a can of Pepsi nestled between your knees. Eddie runs and jumps onto the bed beside you and starts ripping open his snacks, starting with the chips, and cracking open a can of Mountain Dew. Chugging the lime colored liquid until it drops down his chin.

He lets out a louder than life belch and wipes his lips with the back of his hand. Looking over at you to see if you’re impressed.

You raise up ten fingers and clap, applauding his behavior.

“I’d like to thank my fans, and the Pepsi company, for encouraging the best of burps, with the help of carbonation.” He bows and waves like he’s at the academy awards and you giggle along with him.

You both stay like that for a while, on top of the blankets, watching the Golden Girls and eating snacks, content with filling your stomachs with crappy food and over carbonated beverages.

The looming idea of sleeping in the same bed with Eddie is no longer something you can avoid, when a loud yawn escapes your body and has you snuggling deeper into his leather jacket.

“I—I can sleep in the chair, or on the floor.” He says quickly.

The idea of him sleeping on the floor or with a strained neck in the office chair is unacceptable to you. “No, you can sleep in the bed with me, we can—“ thinking fast for an easy solution, “we can just use different blankets.”

“Oh good,” Eddie whispers, taking off his already loosened tie, and unbuttoning his shirt, “because I would bet a million dollars that you’re a blanket thief.”

Laughing and unzipping his leather jacket, you smirk, hanging it on the back of the chair, “how do you have the vocabulary of a ten year old and a foul sailor all at the same time?”

Eddie unzips his pants and untangles his legs from the dark denim, sitting on the bed with a groan in just his boxer briefs, “I’m like a poor Peter Pan, who grew up on the wrong side of tracks, I’ll never grow up.”

Foregoing any previous thoughts of keeping the dress on, you decide to take it off, exhausted from the night, the cold seeping into your bones and chilling them made you almost delirious with needing sleep, “Can you—will you close your eyes?” You ask in a hushed voice, “at least until I lay down?”

Eddie yanks hard on the sheet and wraps it around his head in a giant makeshift blindfold. “Will this work?”

This angle gives you free range to see his body. It’s not as if you haven’t seen him like this before, but this time it felt different. Every inch of his creamed colored skin, every inky smoked out line of tattoos, the veins protruding from his muscled arms, the ruddy roughness of his knuckles, ghosting with the silver rings on his fingers and in his nipples. The fading sun colored bruises on his ribs. You could write sonnets on the way his breath expands his chest and falls back flush with the rest of his body.

It’s hard to peel your eyes away, but you manage, grabbing your dress by the bottom hem lifting it off of your body. Sliding the tights down your legs until you are completely naked besides the silk black thong. Covering yourself with the off white cotton threaded blanket on the bed, you wrap it around you and sit delicately on the other side of the bed, facing the window, and the furnace.

“I’m done,” you announce, laying your head onto the goose feather pillow and facing Eddie, curling your legs to your chest. Taking slow breaths through your nose to even out your nerves and settle yourself down, the excitement of laying next to Eddie in a bed with both of you only wearing underwear has your body throbbing.

“Finally!” He exaggerates, “were you wearing a dress from the 1800s with all those fancy layers?”

“I was having some trouble with the zipper,” you lie.

“Funny—“ Eddie preens, “I didn’t see a zipper on your dress.”

The idea of him watching you, eyes stuck on your silhouette all night, through dinner, walking to the hotel, makes you feel less bad about staring at him before you crawled into bed. You clench your thighs together.

“How would you know there wasn’t a zipper? Unless of course— you were gawking.”

Two can play this game, and what Eddie didn’t realize is that you’d gotten pretty good at bantering with him.

“Why would you say your dress had a zipper when it didn’t? Maybe you were the one gawking, I mean I get it sweetheart, I’m funny and sexy. Double whammy.”

“Good night, Eddie.” You say with a final laugh. “And I swear to God, if this bed starts jerking in any way—I’ll shave your head and bleach your eyebrows.”

He lets out a laugh loud enough that it makes Steve roll over, scolding you both, about the time and needing to get some sleep. Always in mom mode.

“Sorry dad,” Eddie whispers, giggling like a little kid as he tucks himself in, and turns off the tv and the light between the two beds.

You close your eyes and breathe deeply, allowing sleep to take over your body. Sleep finds you quickly, a deep dreamless sleep, you aren’t sure if you’re awake or not when you feel a pair of lips on the crown of your hair line, a hand moving your hair away from your face, and a voice whispering to you, “good night, pretty girl.”

The next morning, Steve drops you and Eddie off at your house. The ride home seemed to drag on forever, everyone was hungover and trying to stay awake. Robin having her head out of the window for most of the drive. Still gagging from the night before.

Getting into Hawkins, Eddie turns towards you, a menacing smirk on his lips and a devil gleam in his eyes, “rock, paper scissors for dibs on first shower?”

“You’re on Munson,”

“I just don’t understand how paper beats rock!” Eddie complains as he takes a piss talking to you as you take a shower. The humidtiy from the bathroom moistens his curls, frizzing them into oblivion, “in what fucking universe does a paper lying over a goddamn rock win?”

Placing the razor against the white pillowy peaks of the shaving cream you slide it up your leg, careful to not cut your knee. “Don’t be a sore loser because you chose rock three times in a row.

“It’s the most common way to win!” He whines, slamming the toilet seat down and plopping himself on top of it. “Are you almost done? I feel like I’ve been freezing for 24 hours, I never warmed up lastnight.”

Rinsing the last bit of conditioner from your hair you turn the water off, throwing a hand out from the shower curtain to reach for your robe, wrapping it around you tightly, and opening the shower, you notice that Eddie looks paler than usual.

“Are you getting sick?” You place the back of your hand on his forehead, it’s clammy and abnormally warm. The twinkle he almost always has in his eyes is gone, he looks rundown. “In the nicest way possible, you look like hell.”

“I feel like shit,” Eddie complains.

“Here,” you offer, starting the water for him, “take a hot shower and I’ll go make us some food.”

When Eddie gets out of the shower the kitchen smells of sweet thick batter, sprinkled with a hint of cinnamon. The waffle iron you had bought with Nancy before Halloween worked like a dream, it was in better condition than you had thought.

Two plates are sitting on the counter, as Eddie walks into the kitchen, wearing a hoodie and sweats, he comes behind you, moving your hips gently to the side as he peers over your shoulder to see what you’re making.

“Waffles?!” He squeals into your ear, “I didn’t know we even had a waffle press thing,” he says, messing up your still damp hair with a tousle, “wait is that the thing that’s kept in the bathroom under the sink?”

Racking your brain you try to envision what he’s thinking of, “no Eddie that would be Nancy’s hot rollers, for her hair..”

“Well that’s not edible,” he says walking to the fridge and pulling out his jug of milk.

Hollering over your shoulder and opening the waffle iron to carefully remove the perfect round breakfast delicacy from the iron with a fork, you announce, “that’s why they’re in the bathroom, under the sink. I bought the waffle iron when Nancy and I went shopping a few weeks ago, how are you feeling?”

Taking a big gulp of milk Eddie mutters, “better, much better, I’m just really tired.”

Plating the waffles and getting the syrup from the cabinet you set the plates down at the table, bringing over two glasses and two sets of silverware, “can you grab the orange juice, and the butter?”

Bringing the requested items to the table, Eddie sets them down, next to the napkin holder. Grabbing a knife hastily and spreading the pale yellow butter around the crispy pockets of the waffle, melting into delicious puddles of savory goodness, awaiting the courtship to be reunited with the sticky sweet syrup to combine into heavenly wedded bliss.

Cutting his waffle and diving in, the kitchen is surrounded by sound of Eddie’s satisfied moans, “fuck,” he cries with a mouthful of food, shoveling more in, “this is so fucking good, you’re a saint— no no! Wait, an angel.”

The waffles were good, the perfect amount of crispy and soft. Eddie finished both of his waffles in record time.

“So where did you get this thing?” he asked curiously, pointing to the waffle iron on the counter.

“With Nancy—oh! I completely forgot!” you say excitedly, “I got a record too, it’s by the rest of them near your record player, I didn’t want to use it and break it.”

Eddie pads over to the record player and thumbs through the stack on the shelf.

He had already been staring at the record for over a minute before you spoke again, saying his name asking if he wanted another waffle.

“Damn,” he interrupts you sniffing loudly, “I haven’t heard this since…”

He carefully pulls the sleeve from the record and slots it in place, putting the needle in place. The soft twang of Bobbie Gentry’s guitar plays as she plucks the strings, a few beats in and her sultry, smoky voice begins singing, retelling the story of the day she found out the fate of Billie Joe.

Eddie sits cross legged on the floor next to the record player, staring in awe. His socked feet tucked under his thighs. Elbows digging into his legs.

His mind drifts to a small house on the outskirts of Hawkins, the paint peeling and chipping away, a dog named Ruby running alongside him as he pedals his bike up the dirt lane.

She was standing in the kitchen, her soft brown curls waving behind her as she ashed a cigarette and cut his ham sandwich into squares, taking the crust off. She hummed along to the waning wonky tunes of the radio as Bobbie Gentry sang about Billie Joe. Her smile fading in his memory.

He never allowed himself to think of her. Despite what Uncle Wayne and the therapist at the stuffy office with the seafoam green painted walls, the cheerful posters with kids and their perfect families staring at him as he glared at the floor, toe of his converse trying to dig a hole through the tile. It only brought him sadness. It was something he couldn’t talk about, not to anyone. The panic attacks in the night when he dreamt of the day she was taken from him, right in front of his big doe eyes, would send Wayne into a frenzy. Helping Eddie breath, making the small child ground himself with his surroundings. So he moved on, throwing himself into music, and his friends. Anything to keep his mind from thinking of that day. But here in your living room, twenty years later, it was all he could think of.

Her perfume, hints of jasmine and lilac a tinge of cigarette smoke underneath. The way her glasses were perched on her head as she read through the paper. Her light brown eyes, like caramel apples you’d see at the fair. Her long fingers always thumping along to whatever song she heard. The gift of a piano player. The way she would dance with him in the living room, barefoot and giggly as she swung him around and around. Those were the good memories, the ones before she was ripped away from him.

The song finishes and Eddie leans up onto his knees, placing the needle to replay it again, this time the warm tears are flowing freely, running down his cheeks. He no longer cared if you saw him cry like a baby.

You’re standing at the edge of the kitchen watching him. You figured his mom was dead by the way he never mentioned her. Chrissy once asked him about his parents after he mentioned his Uncle Wayne, and he blew it off, like he blew off lots of things, “shit, think she joined the circus, married the world’s strongest man.” You wonder if the fib was easier for him to tell himself. Rather have her still around, happy and breathing than what she actually was. You’ve only seen him like this one other time and that was after you saw Chad at the grocery store.

Steve had told you how concerned he was when he came in to talk with you. How scared he was, how bad he felt that he wasn’t around to protect you when you needed it. And just like he did for you, you’d do for him.

Walking gently towards him you stand behind him, not sure if lightly touching his shoulder would cross a boundary but wanting to reassure him, you do it anyway. The pads of your fingers daintily skim his shoulders, running soft figure eight patterns. His face is hidden by his curtain of hair but you can hear him sniffling softly. A soft squeeze of his shoulder and he wraps an arm around your bare calf, holding onto dear life as you pull him into you. His death grip on your leg almost has you falling over. You find yourself threading your fingers through his wet hair. Rubbing along his scalp, his shoulders jump and shake with a deep sigh as the song finishes again. Eddie peels himself from you and turns the record player off. Standing and looking at the ground. Toeing the carpet with his sock.

“I have…,” he says, clearing his throat, trying like hell to gain composure, “I haven’t heard that song in years… it was her favorite.”

Reaching for his hand your fingers find their way into the spaces between his. Squeezing and rubbing his pointer figure with the pad of your thumb. “Eddie,” you whisper to him, your small soft voice reaching out to him beckoning him.

His eyes turn to you, tear filled and red, his body shaking with a light sob. Instincts kick in and you don’t realize what’s happening before it does, you drag him down the hallway, into your room. The same room where he comforted you in the warmth of his arms, you sit down on your bed, your back to the headboard and bring him down with you, his head in your lap. his arms wrapped tight around your bare thighs. Brushing his hair away from his face with your fingers, his body is racked with sobs, the tops of your thighs wet with his tears. You rub his back, comforting him and whispering to him that you’re sorry, that it’s okay, that you’re here for him.

The dishes would have to wait.

When you wake, you’re snuggled down into the confinements of your bed. Blankets covering both you and Eddie, his arms wrapped tightly around your middle like a child with a balloon at the fair, afraid to let go. His body is curved with yours, his light snores tickling your hair. Not waking him, you gently fall back asleep, the thought that he was right, skids across your mind.

Eddie was the first guy to sleep in your bed— and your heart leaped when you selfishly hoped he never wanted to leave it.

A/N: SEE YOU IN VOL: VIII HOPE YOU ALL ENJOYED

[this message is for read more —, you big nasty, smelling bitch. Why you took me off the mf schedule with your trifflin’ dirty ass. Big bitch Oompa Loompa body ass bitch, I’m comin up there and I’m gonna beat the fuck …… (it’s a reference from TikTok) BUT TRY ME READMORE TRY ME]

#eddie munson #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #stranger things #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fan fiction

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littlelostmoon · 2 months

Text

what music the mw2 boys listen to ♫₊˚.

tags [cod characters x gender neutral reader] no tags wc 250 [headcanons]

a/n been trying to upload a drabble but tumblr hates me so instead i wrote these extremely self indulgent hcs

[ghost]

at risk of sounding cliché, i feel like simon isn't the media consumption type. will listen to ambient music while driving or sleeping, though.

he was randomly introduced to daft punk and that's his go-to for workouts. really likes hearing damage by thom yorke and some popular songs by depeche mode.

[könig]

i feel strongly that this man loves most german music, especially oldies— but his favorite album is actually metal health by quiet riot. and yes, he blasts everything at the loudest volume.

he's the type to quickly fall down an amy winehouse n sade pipeline, so if you introduce him, be careful :D

[graves]

do i need to say it? aerosmith, reo speedwagon, nirvana, billy idol, cinderella etc. anything that sounds like it belongs in an 80s convertible.

if you watch a film w alicia silverstone in it he will 100% tell you that he knows her from the cryin' music video. i don't make the rules.

[soap]

i think johnny has a very unexpected and diverse music taste. psychedelic and folk-y, perhaps? his favorite artist is moby but sonic youth is a close second. probably had a phase where he strictly listened to cherry peel by of montreal and some big thief albums.

[gaz]

battled an intense 'rate your music' phase as a teenager and it shows. any alternative band you can think of, he's a fan. carries a huge soft spot for blood orange, the weeknd, frank ocean etc. :p

the type to listen to really popular artists but ignore their hits. swears he's not a male manipulator.

#𓏲moonhcs #call of duty headcanons #cod headcanons #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #call of duty #simon ghost riley #könig #phillip graves #soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick

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hendersister · 1 year

Text

can't fight this feeling

summary: after steve helps you out of a bad situation, you finally admit your feelings for one another.

pairing: steve harrington x henderson!sister reader

title 🎵: can't fight this feeling by reo speedwagon

tw: attempted sexual assault

Tina’s parents are out of town again. She’s throwing one of her big summer house parties tonight. Partying isn’t really your scene but a few of your friends convinced you to go. You’re trying to get out of your shell a little more and try new things. Plus a lot of people you know from school are going to be there.

One person you are hoping to see is Steve Harrington. You two have become close friends this summer working at Starcourt Mall. It’s always fun hanging out with Steve. You believe that you’re starting to develop real feelings for him. There’s an electricity between the two of you. You think that he might be feeling it too…

When you and your friends arrive at Tina’s the party is already in full swing. You look around for Steve but see no sign of him. You decide to pour yourself a drink. When you step into the kitchen you see a cute guy standing by the punch bowl.

“Hey,” he smiles at you.

“Hi,” you smile back.

Right after you walk into the kitchen, Steve arrives at the party. As he walks into the house, he’s greeted by a few people he knows. Then Steve notices you from across the room. He raises his eyebrows.

You’re in the kitchen talking to some guy. His name is Brad. You know that he goes to Hawkins High but have never spoken to him before tonight. Brad’s flirting with you but you don’t really know this guy so you’re treading lightly.

While talking to Brad, your eyes meet Steve’s. You nod to him.

“My friend just got here. I’m gonna go over and say hi,” you excuse yourself from the conversation.

You leave Brad in the kitchen to go talk to Steve. Steve scrunches his forehead as you approach him.

“Hey!” you greet Steve with a smile, “How are you?”

“What are you doing here?” Steve questions you.

Your face drops. Steve looks more confused than happy to see you.

“I came with some of my friends,” you explain defensively.

Steve nods.

“Like do you not want me to be here or something?” you coolly challenge him.

“No! No, I was just surprised to see you, that's all,” Steve replies.

You shrug, rolling your eyes. You don’t know why Steve is acting so weird and don’t really want to get into it with him right now.

“Yeah, whatever. I’m gonna go to the bathroom. See you around…”

Before Steve even has the chance to respond, you walk away. Luckily there’s no line for the bathroom so you don’t have to wait.

After you are finished in the bathroom, you open the door and the first thing you see is Brad. He’s blocking your way.

“Excuse me.”

You try going around him but he pushes you back into the bathroom.

“Hey!”

Brad steps in the bathroom with you and closes the door. He corners you.

“No! Stop!”

You attempt to push Brad off but he’s a lot bigger than you. He easily overpowers you, shoving you against the wall.

“What the hell are you doing?!”

Brad leans in, trying kissing you.

“Get off me!”

You knee Brad in the groin and he keels over in pain. You quickly push him away from the door and get out of there.

Steve sees you rush out of the bathroom. You look really upset. Something is wrong. Steve goes over to you.

“Hey, Y/N, are you alright?”

Steve puts a supportive arm on your shoulder. You immediately flinch.

“I’m fine. I’m fine,” you breathe.

You’re clearly not fine.

Steve notices Brad leaving the bathroom. He looks pissed. Steve puts the pieces together.

“Wait! Did he do something to you?” Steve asks protectively.

You shake your head, avoiding eye contact with Steve.

“I just need to get out of here,” you dodge answering Steve’s question.

You see Brad walking towards you and you anxiously cross your arms against your chest. As Brad passes by you and Steve, he purposely bumps into you. He uses so much force that you stumble back and almost lose your footing.

Steve’s eyes widen in anger. Without thinking, Steve aggressively shoves Brad down to the ground in retaliation.

“What the hell is your problem, man?”

Steve stands over Brad and clenches his fist, readying himself for a fight. Then, from the corner of his eye, he sees you quietly slip out the door.

“Shit,” Steve mutters to himself.

Instead of fighting Brad, he follows you outside.

“Y/N! Hey Y/N! Wait up!”

You keep going. Steve catches up to you.

“Are you okay?” he asks with concern.

“I’m fine. I just need to go home,” you sigh.

Steve nods.

“Ok. C’mon, let me drive you,” he offers.

You shake your head.

“You don’t have to. I can walk,” you tell him.

“Yeah I don’t have to, but I want to drive you. Please just let me take you home,” Steve tries.

You abruptly stop walking and turn to face Steve, giving him your full attention.

“Why do you care so much?” you ask him bluntly.

Steve is taken aback by your tone.

“Wh…what?” he stutters.

“Why do you care so much?” you repeat, “I mean seriously, what is your deal? Are you just looking out for me because I’m Dustin’s sister?”

“No. I care because we’re friends,” Steve sighs.

“Are we though? Are we just friends?” you continue confronting Steve.

“Y/N-” Steve begins before you interrupt him.

“Because you mean more to me than just friends. Honestly I feel like we kinda have this unspoken thing… and I’m tired of not talking about it,” you quietly admit.

Steve lets out a deep breath and slowly nods, taking in everything you just said.

“You’re right. We have an unspoken thing,” he replies, and then, “I don’t want to be just friends with you.”

You impulsively pull Steve towards you and kiss him, taking him by surprise. Steve kisses you back. He rests his hands on your face, keeping you close. After a minute, you both pull away to catch your breath.

“Hey, uh, do you want to get out of here?” Steve asks softly.

You nod.

“Let’s go.”

#stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x henderson!sister reader

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xdaddysprincessxx · 3 months

Note

Congrats on 800, Prinny!

my thot:

Joel is a truck driver and reader is a hitch hiker he picked up several states before. They get along well enough (no sex...yet) THEN! one day, another hitch hiker approaches Joel looking for a ride - Ezra. He wants to know if you're available for some fun, and Joel has to decide if it's just him who gets you or if he's got room in his bunk for a threesome...

I leave the rest in your ever capable and good hands, baby!

Beefro👌🥩💜

Ride

Joel x F!reader x Ezra

18+, this is grump x sunshine x2, we got ass eating, ass spanking, 1 face slap, double penetration, and more. Very barely edited, not beta’d all mistakes are mine, read at your own risk. Also again 18+ , minors fuck off thank you

Word count: 3,200 - “Drabble” lmaoooo yea it got away from me.

REO Speedwagon flowed through the truck speakers as you reach your hand out the open window, letting the wind move your hand up and down. You’ve kicked your bare feet up on the dash as you hum along quietly. Your companion, Joel, lets out a grunt as he gives you a side eyed glance. It’s been a couple of months since he picked you up on the side of the highway. Unhappy with how life was, you decided to say fuck this, packed a small bag and headed out for whatever adventure came your way. Unfortunately you didn’t plan on your car dying on you half way across the country. Which is how you found yourself stranded at a gas station in Nevada. There was a hotel next to it that you were able to get a room at. One morning you packed up and started walking down the highway. You didn’t go too far in case no one picked you up, you could still walk back to the hotel.

Wearing your shortest daisy duke shorts with an old white tshirt tied up in the front, you were determined to hitch a ride. Lo and behold here comes a semi truck just driving along. Quickly you stopped and stuck your thumb out to signal you needed a ride. At first the truck kept going but soon the driver pulled over. Smiling real big you started to run towards the truck.

Climbing up the side, you stuck your head in the window,

“Well hello there handsome. You got room for little ole me to join?”

The driver had a permanent scowl on his face it seemed. Very easy on the eyes, a soft belly that hung over his pants as he sat.

“Hop in darlin.” He said in a deep, gruff voice.

Something about the handsome, thick driver got you going. You could already feel yourself getting wet just from this small interaction.You couldn’t help but think of how much trouble you just found yourself in.

Present Day

It’s been a few weeks since Joel picked you up. A part of you is surprised he hasn’t dropped you off and left yet. Another part of you hopes he never does. For the most part Joel doesn’t talk a lot. He hasn’t really opened up about himself to you. But you are a talker, you love to chat and boy do you.

Leaned back with your bare feet on the dash with your hand outside the window, moving with the wind.

“I heard it from a friend whooo heard it from a friend who heard it from another you been messing around” you softly sang out loud. Turning your head to face Joel, giving him a big smile.

Joel returned your smile with a soft smile of his own.

Something about you has captivated him. Your beauty stunned him the first time he saw you. You had a pretty mouth he often daydreamed of but your little talking habit drove him crazy. As time went on though he found he actually enjoys hearing you go on and on about everything and nothing all at once. And now that’s he’s spent all this time with you, he’s not so willing to let you go. Ever. Whether you agreed or not, in Joel’s mind, you were his.

“Hey! Look! A hitchhiker! Can we help him Joel? Please? Like how you helped me?” You batted your eyelashes and gave him your best puppy dog eyes.

Joel saw a man walking down the highway, sticking his thumb out.

Looking at you, he rolled his eyes and let out a deep sigh. Without saying anything Joel pulled the truck over and the two of you waited on the man to catch up to the truck.

Ezra was a traveler, always on the move. The past few weeks he’s been spending his time in this little town keeping this pretty lady’s bed warm. That was until her husband came home and chased him away. Now he finds himself walking down this almost deserted highway. He has given up hope of finding a ride when he heard a truck rumbling behind him. As soon as he heard the engine he stuck his thumb out hoping the driver would be a Good Samaritan. The truck drove on by making Ezra let out a huff as he kicked the gravel up with his boot. As he looked back up he saw the truck pull over.

‘Holy shit it’s my lucky day after all’, he thought to himself as he started into a light jog to get to the truck as soon as he could.

Stepping up on the side steps, he gets up to the window and sees the prettiest little thing sitting passenger and . . A handsome old grump behind the wheel.

“ Hey there, any way I can catch a ride with you fine folks today? Destination doesn’t matter, just somewhere far from here.”

“Yea! We can take you with us! Hop in!” You reply in a higher pitched tone, sounding extra excited than one should sound when picking up a hitchhiker. You couldn’t help it though. The man was gorgeous. He had this little blonde patch of hair, beautiful, dark brown eyes and the most sweet sounding voice you’ve ever heard. As much as you’ve wanted Joel, he’s never given you any hint that he wants you in that way. And you’ve been dying to itch a particular scratch that you feel this hitchhiker could really scratch for you.

Giving you a big smile, Ezra pulls the door handle, opening the door as you get up and move to sit on the bunk between the two seats.

“Names Ezra. Nice to meet ya,” he puts his hand out towards Joel to shake.

“Joel.”

He says in a flat tone as he shakes his hand.

Ezra quickly gets the feeling that Joel isn’t much of a people person. He can see why Joel has such a pretty little companion as yourself, Joel’s handsome. Gruff and firm, no nonsense kind of guy. He wonders if he’s the type to be dominant in bed. Manhandle his partner and just throw them around, mold them into any position he wants. His own cock twitch’s at the thought.

“And who might you be young lady?”

You tell him your name as you let out a soft giggle, smiling and give him a little flutter of your lashes.

“What brings you out here Ezra?” You ask in your best flirty voice.

“Bit of a traveler. A nomad if you will. Don’t like to stay in one place too long. Wanna see the world ya know?”

“That’s so . . Romantic. Always on the move, seeing what the world has to offer. I bet you’ve met some wonderful people. Seen a lot beautiful women huh?”

Ezra can’t help but give you a smirk, loving how forward you are.

“Haven’t met anyone as beautiful as you honey.”

Joel loudly clears his throat making the both of you startle slightly and look at him.

“What about you handsome? With a pretty little thing by your side I’m sure you never look twice at anyone else huh?”

Joel’s jaw ticks as he gives Ezra this mean stare.

“This “pretty little thing” over here is mine,” he says bluntly before looking back at you, “and I don’t appreciate you throwing yourself at the first man you see like a filthy fucking whore.”

Your mouth drops open, you’re stunned.

“Hey now no need to call her names. I get it, she’s off limits. No need to get mean buddy. I didn’t know.”

You turn your head giving Ezra a confused look before turning back to Joel.

“Excuse me but I am not yours. I am a free woman and on top of that you have never claimed me before now. I can do what I want with who I want thank you very much.”

Joel is pissed now, he pushes the arm rest back before swinging one of his legs to the side, opening his legs wide and then grabbing your upper arm and pulling you towards him. You stumble as you fall over his lap, his arm wrapping over your back holding you in place. His large hand covers the globes of your ass as he rubs it from the top down to the curve of your ass.

“You’re.” Smack. “Mine.” Smack.

He just spanked you. He actually spanked you. If you weren’t in shock over him claiming you, you definitely were now.

He gives you another smack and a whimper came tumbling out of your mouth. You didn’t even have a chance to try and conceal it. Joel stopped moving, hearing you whimper from his actions. He knew you’d be into some freaky shit. He looks over and sees Ezra sitting there, almost mesmerized by the display in front of him.

“Take your cock out.” Joel orders Ezra.

Stunned and very much turned on, he does what he says and takes his cock out of his pants. Spitting into his hand he brings it back down and slowly starts stroking himself.

Joel looks back down at you in his lap, the bottom of your ass spilling out of the little shorts you have on. He reaches down taking his fore and middle finger and rubs a long stripe up your pussy through your shorts.

“I guess I haven’t been taking care o’ ya. My girls pussy needs to be fucked don’t it? Poor thing. I’m sorry baby let’s fix that.”

His hand pulls back before he gives your clothed pussy a slap.

A wanton moan fills the cab of the truck.

He helps you up, sitting you on his lap. You see Ezra watching, touching himself. You can feel yourself begin to soak your shorts. You face Joel and lean in, your lips softly landing on his. You start to pull away when Joel kisses you back, grabbing the side of your face as he deepens the kiss. You allow his tongue to enter, licking around, tasting each other. All too soon Joel pulls back. He hand goes to your face, squishing your cheeks together between his thumb and fore finger. He rotates you to look at Ezra.

“Our guest looks like he needs some help baby. Be a good host, open up that pretty mouth.”

As soon as he releases your face, you get on your knees, in between the two seats, looking up at Ezra as you reach out and take him in your hand. You grip around the base, giving him a couple of tugs before leaning in and kissing the tip. You give it another kiss before you open your mouth, your tongue darting out to taste the precum leaking out. You slowly start to take him into your mouth. Lips wrapped around his cock as you take as much of him as you can. His cock is about 6 inches, rather average but very girthy. You keep reminding yourself in your head to breath and relax. The more you relax the more you can swallow his cock. You start bobbing your head up and down as he watches you, letting out soft moans that spur you on.

Soon you feel Joel pull your hips up and work quickly on taking your shorts off. You pull off of Ezra’s cock with a wet pop as you go to pull your shirt off, revealing your tits to the men.

“Fffuckk.” Ezra mutters before leaning forward and taking a nipple into his mouth. You moan as you tangle your fingers into his hair, holding the back of his head to your breast as he sucks. You hear Joel behind you unbuttoning his pants and lewdly spitting on his hand.

“Lean back down baby let me see those sweet holes.”

Ezra releases your tit so you can bend over for Joel. You bend over, keeping your ass in the air as you take Ezra’s cock back into your mouth. Giving it a few sucks and finding a decent rhythm, your hand lets go so you can reach back and spread your ass cheeks open for Joel.

“That’s it baby just like that.” Joel grunts. He spits on his forefinger and middle finger and swirling it around your puckered hole. He slowly pushes one finger in your ass making you choke on Ezra’s cock.

His finger stills inside, wiggling his finger around a few times before pulling back out. His other hand comes up and starts rubbing your wet pussy. Quickly finding your clit and giving it a few rubs before pushing his finger back into your ass. Joel finds a rhythm fast, rubbing your pussy as he fingers your ass. The sensation alone has you on edge, you begin to move faster on Ezra’s cock.

Joel starts to add a second finger in your ass causing you to let out a little welp.

“J-Joel! That’s too much! I can’t take it!”

“Shh baby you’re taking it. Taking it just fine. Let me kiss it better.”

Removing his fingers, Joel leans forward, holding your cheeks apart, licking a wide stripe up your ass. Your hands now on Ezra’s legs to keep yourself up right. You and Ezra lock eyes as you moan, feeling Joel swirl his tongue around your asshole, licking into it, making your pussy spasm around nothing.

Ezra cups your face, “That feel good sugar? You like feeling his tongue in such a forbidden hole? I bet your poor sweet pussy must be leaking by now.”

You can’t help but let out a sob. You need more, your neglected clit needs friction.

“Shh I know baby I know, let him French kiss that sweet hole. Let him make your sweet honey drip so we may feast.”

Joel pulls back, spit dripping down his chin,

“Get on the bed Ezra.”

He puts his arm under you, pulling you up. You fall back onto Joel, your legs shaking unable to hold you up.

Ezra makes quick work of taking his boots and pants off, pulling his shirt off as he slides by you to get on the bunk.

Once he’s settled on the bed laying on his back, Joel helps you get on the bunk next.

“Lay on top of him baby. You, hold her open for me.” He orders the two of you.

Ezra pulls you on top of him, your back against his chest. His hands holding the backs of your thighs, right behind your knee as your legs are bend. Holding you wide open. You can feel his cock in between your open cheeks.

Joel undresses and climbs on the bunk facing you.

“Goddamn. Never seen something more sinful or fucking beautiful than this.” He reaches down and grabs ahold of Ezra’s cock and starts pushing the tip towards your puckered hole.

“Joel! Nno! I- I can’t it won’t fit! Please!” You try to move but Ezra’s got a tight grip on you.

“Shh baby it’ll fit, I got you nice and ready back here. He’ll go slow baby.”

He watches your hole as the tip goes in, he takes his other hand and brings it to your pussy and starts rubbing circles on your clit.

You throw your head back and let out a moan, finally getting some friction on your cunt feels so good, you feel your whole body relax, momentarily forgetting about your asshole.

“That’s it baby let it happen,” he whispers before leaning forward and pulling your clit between his lips and sucking. His hand that guided the other man’s cock in you made its way down to his balls, giving them a soft squeeze. Hearing him moan with you is making Joel’s cock leak. Ezra’s cock is almost all of the way in your ass now and it feels so good. You feel stuffed just from him.

Joel sits back up and just admires the two of you.

Taking himself in his hand he moves closer and swipes his cock through your folds a few times before slowly pushing into your pussy.

Your mouth is hanging wide open, your chest heaving as you watch Joel push you past any limits you could’ve had. Having both men now inside of you is an indescribable feeling. It’s a fullness like no other.

“ Oh fuck you both feel utterly divine. This must be heaven.” Ezra says breathlessly as he lays there inside of you, able to feel the weight of Joel’s cock inside your pussy.

“Move Ezra, go on. Let’s make her feel good.”

“Yes sir.”

He gives an experimental thrust, bouncing you slightly making Joel sink deeper into you.

He starts to build up a tempo, thrusting up into you while Joel stays still above you.

Soon Joel moves, finding a rhythm with Ezra. As one moves out the other moves in.

You can’t help but close your eyes as you lean back in ecstasy.

Joel’s quick to grab your throat, squeezing just right to make your eyes fly open.

“Keep your eyes on me baby, you will watch when I’m fucking you. Do you understand?”

Joel slaps you, not hard but enough to leave a slight sting. Your face turns slightly, the hand around your throat not giving you much movement. A wanton moan spilling from your lips.

“Yes Joel I’m s-sorry baby I won’t take my eyes off you again nngh ohh oh fuck oh fuck you feel so good. So full.”

Joel starts pounding harder into you, still squeezing your throat. Ezra’s holding onto your legs for dear life, the friction of Joel’s dick rubbing against him has him ready to burst.

“F-fuck nngh take our cum baby take every fucking drop you hear me?” Joel groans, you can tell both men are close.

“Mhmm cum inside me baby cum inside my little whore cunt. Mark my ass Ezra, I wanna feel you leak out of my holes oooh oh fuck oh fuck please cum baby!”

You reach down and start rubbing furiously at your clit, sending right over the edge. You let out a scream as you start coming, vision going blurry as tears escape your eyes. Your orgasm hitting you like a truck.

Both men soon follow right behind you, spilling their seed deep inside both of your holes.

All three of you still, breathing heavy as Joel pulls out. Ezra’s soft cock slips out right after him as he lets go of your legs.

“Hold on baby don’t move.” Joel tells you before reaching down in between the bunk and the drivers seat, pulling out an old school Polaroid camera.

Aiming the camera at you and Ezra he snapped a shot and a Polaroid came spitting out. He grabbed the photo and sat it by his leg. Then he leaned forward and snapped another pic, this one a close up of your cunt and asshole leaking cum. Taking both photos and placing them on his seat before laying down next to Ezra as he pulls you into the middle.

No one really said a word. It was just the three of you, laying together, soft smiles shared, basking in the soft embrace of each other before falling asleep.

A/n: omg lmao so this was meant to be a drabble, this is one hell of a drabble 😂🤷🏻‍♀️ thank you so so much for such a beautiful thot my sweet beef baby @beefrobeefcal !! I hope you love this! I hope yall enjoy this! I really loved writing this and thank you again for following me, reading, interacting, all of it! You guys are the best!

#prinny’s 800 celebration 🎉#pedro pascal #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller smut #Joel x you x Ezra #pedro pascal characters #ezra prospect #ezra smut #grump x sunshine #follower milestone #follower celebration #pedro pascal cinematic universe

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thebowieconstricker · 2 months

Text

Head Over Heels - Chapter 1

(The Creature x Reader)

A Lisa Frankenstein (2024) fanfic

masterlist link

YOU THOUGHT I WASN’T GONNA POST DIDN’T YA??? Nah I’ve just been doing other things. We’re gonna have ONE more chapter after this one and then… we meeting our boy. Enjoy!

~~~

1989, Brookview, Indiana

As you reapplied your mascara for the fourteen billionth time, you let out a sigh. It was the first semester of your freshman year and Taffy was determined to drag you along with her to your first rager. You had fought her for years when it came to you attending parties. They were your own personalized hell, too much smoke and alcohol and noise, and for the past three years of high school, you had explained this to Taffy. Somehow, for some reason, she had respected your decision and you had successfully avoided them.

On the condition that you would go to one when you were a senior.

Unfortunately for you, you now had to actually fulfill that promise.

Taffy couldn’t be happier about it, though.

You had been struggling with your hair, face, outfit, everything since you’d gotten home from school. It was a Friday, so you couldn’t use the school night excuse on your father.

Even if you tried to, you doubted he would keep you home. These days he seemed exhausted with you, too wrapped up in his own business to care to listen to your silly teenage problems. You thought that he’d be more dad-like these days, his kid going into their senior year, but no. Anytime you complained, he retorted that you should just be more like Taffy. She didn’t have problems! Maybe join the cheer team! He’s sure she’d teach you the ropes!

He didn’t care to know you would rather drop dead then join the cheer team.

Anyways, back to you. Getting ready, yes. You grabbed a jean-jacket littered with patches you had stitched on yourself. You had a job with a local tailor in town and you’d always loved to sew. You considered yourself an artsy person, fascinated with the art of creation. This patched jacket was an especially loved project of yours, a sort of comfort jacket. So, it was coming with you.

After putting it on and glancing at yourself one last time in the mirror, you heard a honk outside your door. Taffy.

You shut off your bathroom radio, currently blaring “Keep On Loving You” by REO Speedwagon, a favorite of yours. You hummed the rest of the song as you zipped around your bathroom, grabbing a shoe here and chapstick there, shoving things in your bag and absentmindedly combing through your hair with your fingers. One final check later and you were speeding through your house, running out of your bathroom, through your room, down the stairs, past the living room, and straight towards the door, grabbing the handle and yanking it open.

You gasped and squinted as you walked out of your house, taken aback. Taffy’s car lights were on and pointed directly at you, completely blinding. As your eyes adjusted, your stomach began to turn as you recognized the cherry red of her car.

There was no going back now.

You saw Taffy in the drivers seat, excitedly smiling and waving at you.

This was gonna be a long night.

~~~

“So… are you hot for anyone?”

Oh my god, Taffy would not shut up.

Yeah, you two had been friends for… forever at this point, but didn’t she know you well enough by now to understand how you worked? You were already going out on a limb here, why did she delight in torturing you? You didn’t talk a lot, you rarely had crushes! Why did she act like you were like everyone one else?

“Taffy, that’s gross.” You replied, groaning.

“It’s not gross! It’s human, (Y/N). There has to be someone at school you think is cute.” She looked at you grinning.

A thought popped into your head. You knew it wasn’t what she wanted to hear, but you couldn’t help yourself.

Your eyes shifted to look out the window. “I mean…”

Taffy gasped. “That wasn’t a no! Details, details!”

You giggled a bit at her enthusiasm. Perky as she was, she was fun.

“There’s… someone who doesn’t go to our school, I guess.”

Taffy nodded aggressively, bouncing in her seat.

Now, you knew very well that you weren’t interested in anyone at school, but you could… stretch the truth a bit. For her sake. Make her think there was still a chance for you.

“We don’t talk much, but… when I see him, he’s sweet.”

“AHHHHHHHHHHHH-“ Taffy let out a high-pitched squeal, causing your eyes to close tightly.

“Can you not?!?” You tried your best to maintain an annoyed expression, but her genuine happiness for you made your smile impossible to hide.

“What school does he go to??” Taffy was glancing back and forth at you and the road.

“He’s homeschooled.”

“Ooh, so he’s like, freakishly smart?”

“Yeah, freakishly.”

“Does he have more of a football bod or a basketball bod?”

“He, um- doesn’t play sports.”

Taffy gave you a look.

“(N/N), I thought I went over this with you. How are you gonna climb the social ladder this year if you only go after geeks?”

You wrapped your arms around yourself defensively.

“He just caught my attention, okay? It’s not like we’re anything serious.”

Taffy sighed and turned up the radio, beginning to hum along to whatever was playing.

You couldn’t hear it, though. All this talk about your bachelor friend had you daydreaming.

What would it be like if he went to Brookview High? Maybe he would actually be your friend. He’d help you with your math homework, eat lunch with you, walk you to class, give you kisses in the hallway…

EEEEKKKK

The car lurched to a halt. You jolted from your dreams, arm hitting the car door.

Damn, you forgot how bad of a driver Taffy was.

“We’re here! Alright, (Y/N), are you ready for your first official senior rager??”

Taffy’s smile was impossibly wide, her eyes shining in the darkness of her car. You could faintly hear the music and noises of the party, whoever’s house you were at ahead of you.

Sitting there in the dark.

Waiting.

You took a breath.

“Okay.”

~~~

Nope nope nope, this was the worst choice you could have possibly made.

You could have thrown yourself into oncoming traffic and you would have been better off than being at this stupid, awkward party.

Standing outside with an unopened bottle of water, you watched as Taffy flawlessly buzzed about. She seemed to somehow know every single person here, to the point where each of them was just so glad she made it! It’s not a party without her! Damn, girl, I’m loving the outfit!

You thought your jacket would have gotten you some complements, at least from the right people, but apparently not.

Even the goth kids were steering clear of you.

Was there a meeting before you got here to make sure no one would talk to you??

You swallowed harshly and began to walk over to one of the random coolers strewn about the lawn. Thankfully, Taffy hadn’t forced you inside the actual house. You were sure the music was even louder, and the bright lights pouring from the glass doors and walls that shone on the pool were much brighter and even more headache inducing inside. Finally getting to a cooler, you realized that you had already been holding an unopened waterbottle.

Mentally rolling your eyes at your own idiotic behavior, you decided to just commit. Yes, it was stupid, and yes, you should just go hide in Taffy’s car for the rest of the night, but you might as well just suck it up at this point.

Who knows? Maybe, just maybe, it would get Taffy off your back for good.

You bent down and opened the cooler, and your hand dove straight into the icy cold water. It was pure instinct, a desire to feel something that wasn’t hot and sweaty and awkward, and it honestly gave you a brief feeling of relief.

You took your original water bottle, now lukewarm, and placed it in the ice water, grabbing a new, much cooler bottle of water.

Suddenly, a deep voice came from behind and above you.

“If you’re looking to fade out, the ethanol’s inside.”

You furrowed your brow in confusion. “What?”, you responded.

“The booze…?” The voice said as you stood up, not yet turning around. “It’s in the house.”

You started to turn, now actually understanding whatever this guy was talking about.

“O-oh, yeah, I think my friend brought most of it-“

Wait-

Your eyes focused in the dark on the figure who was speaking to you. Pretty brown hair and eyes, a slight tan, and a face that you would recognize in an instant.

Why was Micheal Trent talking to you?

#lisa frankenstein fic #lisa frankenstein the creature x reader #lisa frankenstein the creature #lisa frankenstein fanfiction #lisa frankenstein movie #the creature x you #the creature lisa frankenstein #the creature x y/n #the creature x reader #cringe culture is dead #anyways here’s wonderwall #lisa frankenstein

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by-soleil · 11 months

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can't fight this feeling

Pairing: Mark Lee x Female Reader

Word Count: 2.7k+

Warning: One-sided love, Mutual pinning (?), Oblivious bestfriend(s), idk...

This fic was inspired by "Can't Fight This Feeling - REO Speedwagon"

•••

You remember it clearly. It was the morning of the very first day. The sun was unforgiving, blazing thru the thinnest of fabric that was your blouse. And it was only 9 in the morning. How you survived the rest of the day was still a mystery.

After sighing for the nth time, you try to scan the new surrounding. The unfamiliarity of it left you with an uneasy feeling. How exactly does one supposed to find where the ‘Neo Auditorium’ is after only being here once? Granted, it was your fault. It was you who skipped the unofficial tour of the ground in favor of getting your nails done.

You fish your phone out, maybe your friends replied to the text you sent before you started driving earlier. They should be here already, they should know where you’re supposed to be heading.

“Oh, crap.” you grit your teeth in annoyance. Checking once more if there are any clues about where that Neo place is in your group chat before locking your phone and threw it carelessly inside your purse.

“Screw it, I’ll find my way.” you mumble to yourself as you head towards the nearest walkway shaded by the tree.

Or so you thought.

What supposed to be a 4-minute walk from your car turned into a 30 minute of absolute confusion. Stopping at every directories for some sign only for you to find out weeks later that it hasn’t even been updated since God know when.

Just when you’re about to give up and just go back to your car for some air conditioning, someone approached you.

“Excuse me, do you need help?”

“Yeah, actually. l think I’m lost, I’ve walked around probably a thousand times to look for that damned Neo-something and somehow just ended up back here. My head hurts and I haven’t broke into these shoes ugh I feel like—“ you abruptly stop, realizing you just overshared and probably scare the only person that might actually help you. “I’m sorry, I’m mumbling. Yeah, a help would be nice.” you smile shyly.

The man in front of you gulped. A bit flustered with how fast you were talking. Then he chuckled. “It’s fine, you’re good. You’re looking for the Neo Auditorium, eh?” he asks, still chuckling lightly.

You nod, questioning weather you should feel offended that the man in front of you can’t seem to stop chuckling.

“I’m heading that way, actually. I’m guessing we’re in the same class. I could show you where it is.”

“Ugh, thank God!” you grunt, feeling relieved. Sipping what’s left of your watered down iced coffee, you nod to him. “Let’s go.”

“Umm, actually, can you wait a sec? I need to go to the bathroom. I’ll be quick I promise.” The man in front of you hold his hand up as if to assure you he wasn’t lying.

A chuckle slipped out of your mouth and you nod before following the man towards the bathroom.

“I’m Mark, by the way.” the man walking next to you introduced himself. Making sure his hands are dry by patting it on his shirt before offering it for you to shake.

After introducing yourself, you arrived in front of a big wooden door with a big slab of glass running through the middle of it.

“You can sit next to me, the seats in front are all taken I think.” Mark offers kindly. Which of course you accept, a friendly face was exactly what you needed that day.

And that’s how you met Mark, your dearest, closest best friend.

Throughout the years, you and Mark become inseparable. It is not a strange thing for someone to ask you where Mark is when his phone is unreachable. Reserving two seats for you knowing Mark would also tag along anyway.

Here’s the thing, being around Mark is easy and comfortable. He feels like home.

Mark is your person as you are his. You tell Mark everything and he also tells you everything about him. Well, most things.

Countless nights spent with you burning his ears off talking about your shitty love life. How your ocean-deep love for Haechan is never reciprocated.

Mark is a great listener, he might never give you any advice on how to deal with your stupidity when it comes to Heachan—sometimes you wonder why, cause he seems to always have an opinion about everything else—but you don’t care. All you needed was to be heard. To feel heard. And Mark give you just that.

“What’s up, lover boy?” Jaemin greets Mark when he set his book bag down near the couch.

“Shut up, man.” He jokingly brush him off. Taking the guitar and placing it on his lap.

Jeno then pops out of nowhere, startling both Mark and Jaemin. “You coming tonight, lover boy? You know Haechan always throw the best parties.” he wiggles his brows.

“Of course Mark is going, his little girlfriend is gonna be there. Where is she, anyway? Aren’t you guys supposed to be glued together or something?” Jaemin continue to tease.

Mark taps the guitar strings, “First of all,” then he strums a chord, “not my girlfriend.” his slender fingers quick to adjust to another chord before strumming once more. “Second, she’s getting her nails done.” another strum of the guitar follows before he quietly murmured “for Haechan’s party.”

“How are you the smartest person I know yet capable of being this stupid?” Jeno tsks, shaking his head as he head for the fridge.

“Remind me to never let you copy my assignments from now on.” Mark jokes. Knowing exactly what Jeno is implying with him being stupid.

Mark never know that it would end up like this. What started out as friendship has grown stronger. At least for him.

Maybe it was the way you always put everyone else’s feelings before yours. Accommodating people’s wants and needs, even if it means going the extra miles.

Always so kind towards other people yet never really expect the same from them. Always so selfless, smiling through the inconvenience people threw your way. Mark knows that you know you can say no. You just choose not to. Making him want to be the person you could rely on.

Or maybe it was your pure heart. You love hard, you really do. Too bad it’s never to the right person. What a shame, really.

Mark wishes he had the strength to show his feelings. The courage to just shut you up when you tell him that you feel like shit and unwanted. To kiss the pain from your voice away. To show you how amazing you really are. How you deserve to be treated.

Mark though it was only a phase. Maybe the endless hours spent together, be it studying or just hanging out in your room was taking a toll on him. But, nowadays he started to doubt himself.

“Yeah, right.” he often find himself mumble quietly, running circles inside that big ass head of his—yes, you’ve confirmed it. Mark has a big ass head. Making him all the more grateful you always gift him beanie and bucket hat instead of baseball cap. Truth be told, he’d love it regardless.

Mark tried plenty of times, he went on dates. Yet, his mind kept on wondering whether you’ve had dinner or not. Or would you like the gnocchi he’s been playing with through his entire date. Or is the music that’s been quietly playing in the background would suit your questionable music taste. Everything just somehow linked back to you.

Most of the girls were nice, hell, all of them were nice. But they’re just not you.

Sometimes, he’d think it was his ego. His needs to be needed. You were so out of it and all over the place sometimes, makes him want to take care of you. You make him feel good about a lot of things.

“You look very pretty.” you hear Mark say when you step into his car. Grinning widely when you roll your eyes.

“I’m gonna shoot my shot tonight, Markie! It’s now or never. I’m tired of Haechan only seeing me as friends. I mean, I’m not all that bad, right? I’m pretty—like you just said. I’m always cheerful. I could make a great girlfriend. Don’t you think?” you bring your body forward, pestering your bestfriend for some validation. You need all the ego boost you could get for tonight.

Mark could feel his gut stirring inside. Tonight, huh?

“Earth to Markie! Hello?” you wave a hand in front of his face.

“My bad, I just randomly thought of something. Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Mark scrambles to turn the car on.

“Yeah, what? Are you okay, dude?” you ask genuinely concern. Your bestfriend was never the type to get all panicky. Something must’ve going on.

“Yeah, you’d make a great girlfriend.” was the last thing Mark said to you through the entire 20-minute ride to Haechan’s house.

What was supposed to be ‘the night’ for you, took turn for the absolute worst.

You were so eager to find Haechan as soon as you step into the party. The music blasting from the speakers pumping adrenaline straight to your gut.

Light airy steps got heavier the more you step into the living room. The visual of Haechan shoving his tongue down someone’s throat is all you could focus on. Smiling into the kiss like some simp in love.

Your vision’s getting blurry from the hot tears threatening to spill out. The air feels thick, the smell of booze doesn’t smell like a good time no more.

You didn’t feel the arm that suddenly wrapped around your shoulder, turning you around towards the front door. Helping you walk on your trembling limbs.

Everything was happening so fast. One second you were standing on Haechan’s living room grasping for air and the next you’re bawling your eyes out in your bestfriend’s arm. Soiling his ironed Ralph Lauren shirt with mixture of hot tears and snot.

Mark was there. Mark is always there. By your side as you pick up your shattered heart, gluing it back to together. He even helped gluing some of the pieces.

Mark was there, waiting patiently as you slowly turned back into your old self. The one he fell in love with.

Maybe what happened that night was for the best. Mark feel bad for feeling this way, but that was what you needed to finally get over Haechan.

You no longer fix your hair when Haechan walks by. You no longer care whether Haechan’s gonna be at the hang out later or not. You are over him.

“Wanna go get some Korean food?” Mark suggests over the phone.

“Kimchi jjigae?” you elaborate. Earning a groan from him.

“Something else. Literally anything except that.”

“Literally what is your problem with kimchi jjigae, Mark?!” you sound offended. Though it’s true you started eating kimchi jjigae just so you can resonate with Heachan, but over the time, you genuinely enjoy it. Annoying Mark everytime.

“I’m sick of it.” Mark groans. Never actually made his peace with the stuff you adopted when you were still head over heels towards Haechan.

“Then you pick! You know what? You’re pissing me off lately. Get that stick out of your ass before you come and talk to me!” you hang up the call before throwing your phone towards your bed.

Mark’s hands smacking the steering wheel repeatedly. Frustration consumes the better part of him. “What the fuck is your problem, dude?” Mark shouts to himself.

“Can’t fucking man up, I know that’s what.” Mark answer himself. Turning his car engine on before zooming to your place.

You barely caught you breath after cursing the hell out of Mark after the call ended earlier when someone—you obviously know who it is—starts pounding on your door.

“Open the door, please. I need you to hear me out.” Mark pleas, sounding way too soft for someone who just drove twenty miles above the speed limit all the way to your place.

You stand up immediately, stopping before you turn the door knob separating the two of you. “Are you done being an asshole? Cause I don’t have the energy to fight with you, Mark.”

“Please, open the door.” his plea sounds a lot sadder that before, weaken your pounding heart.

There are a bunch of things you expect when opening the door, but Mark, down on his knees looking defeated and red was definitely not one of them.

Mark breathes out you name, face looking up. He looked… nervous?

“I am sorry,—”

“As you should be,” you cut him off.

“Not just about earlier,” he paused, raising to his full height. Making you look up in the process. “But also for what I’m about to do”

Mark didn’t let you say anything before stepping into your personal space, catching you off guard. His hands fly up to cup each side of your face, causing heat to spread all over your body.

He breathes out your name wholeheartedly, “My life has been such a whirlwind since I saw you that day. The day you were lost and can’t find our class. I’ve been running round in circles ever since. You take me to the places that alone I’d never find.”

“What are you saying, Mark?” your voice came out more like sigh.

“I can’t fight it no more. I can’t fight this feeling anymore.” Mark breathes heavily before leaning down and crashing his lips into yours.

The kiss was anything but sweet, it was filled with rage and desperation. It was filled with needs, it was like the kiss was the only thing keeping him alive. He doesn’t want the kiss, he needs it.

The shocked you felt was quickly washed off by the heat radiating from his soft lips working its way in against yours. Begging to be let it. Begging for you.

Your limp hands somehow find its strength to circle his waist, welcoming him with open arms as your lips do the same.

“What the fuck was that?” you laugh in his face when Mark finally have the decency to let you breathe.

He joins your chuckle as he connects your forehead with his. “Guess it finally get too much to handle.”

“What is?” your hands play with the hair on his nape.

“My feelings for you.” his voice lowers in volume.

You scoff, “You don’t get to feel shy after you just kissed me like a madman starving.” you try to pinch his sides. Earning a laugh so crisp you can’t help to join in.

“What took you so long?” you ask, outing yourself of knowing about his feelings already. Though it is obvious, you yourself are also afraid of pulling the trigger. Not wanting to lose the precious connection you and Mark have shared over the years.

“You knew?!” Mark shrieks in absolute horror.

You smack his forearm, “Everyone with brain size bigger than a shot glass would know, Markie!”

“Then why didn’t you say anything.” he pester, eyes still bulging out.

“I don’t know. I guess I didn’t wanna risk it. What we have, you know? And I know you’d break, eventually.”

“Of course, cause if it’s me begging on my knees it wouldn’t be a problem.” he rolls his eyes.

You stand on your tippy toes before landing a quick smooch on his lips. “Just like what I planned.”

“You little minx!” he bops your nose before throwing you on the bed, joining your laugh as you try to crawl away.

Things turned out way better than neither of you expected. The afternoon spent laughing, pointing out the times any of you showed affection more than what a friend should. Laughter and shrieks of embarrassment filled the small space of your bedroom. With the craving for kimchi jjigae long forgotten.

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queen-of-hellfire666 · 1 year

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Slow dance {Billy Hargrove x F!Reader}

Your prom date is a jerk

That’s all you could think as you rushed out, your little heels clapping an tears falling. I’m the heat of the moment you ran right into Billy Hargrove. “Watch it-“ he looked down to see your shaking, crying figure. “What happened?” He gritted his teeth. He didn’t give into feelings but ever since he had got here your the only friend he can call a friend. “N-nothing..” you sniffled. “Who.” He growled. “Derek and his friends laughed at me because he stood me up and said he never would go to prom with a girl like me.” You explained.

Billy grabbed your shoulders gently. “Go to my car.” He put his suit jacket around your shoulders and ushered you on out. As soon as you were out he walked into that gym.

“DEREK!” He yelled. “Your gonna fucking pay for doing this.” He punched Derek a few good times before leaving him bloody on the ground. He taught him to not fuck with his girl. He soon strutted out to you. “Let’s get out of here princess. Let me make tonight up to you.” He quickly pulled out of the parking lot, peeling out with screaming tires.

“I just wanted a dance.” You whispered so soft. “Then a dance is what you get.” He whispered back to you as he pulled into the grass near the lake. “Take those heels off princess.” He turned to you, wiping your smeared makeup and tears.

“Don’t let that ass ruin your night.” He have a reassuring squeeze to your jaw. He was gentle as he reached into the dash and pulled out a CD. “I hope you won’t mind the music taste.” He put in a CD before getting out. “Cmon.” He opened your door, taking your hand. “Your getting your dance.” He slowly swayed with you as the first song played, a slow rock song. “You look beautiful.” He whispered into your ear as he held your figure. “Thank you..” your voice was nearly nothing, but he heard. He gave you a twirl before smiling.. a big, actual.. beautiful Billy smile.

“This is Bon Jovi right?” You brought up, making him proud. “Yes ma’am. ‘I’ll be there for you.” He twirled you again, brining you back and dipping you. “You left me drowning in my tears and you won’t save me anymore.. I pray to go you’ll give me one more chance girl.” He sang along, holding your hands. “I’d love and I’d die for you, I’d steal the sun from the sky for you.”

Billy had turned the night around for the best. You both danced for hours. Slow and some fast songs. Billy watched your eyes, the way they lit up whenever one of your favorite rock songs came next in the mix tape. His lips were almost close to yours until “bed of nails” by Alice Cooper came on. He chuckled and watched you twirl yourself around. “OUR LOVE IS A BED OF NAILS! LOVE HURTS GOOD ON A BED OF NAILS, ILL LAG YOU DOWN AND WHEN ALL ELSE FAILS ILL DRIVE YOU LIKE A HAMMER ON A BED OF NAILS!” You belted out. Billy chuckles. “I’m gonna get a cig.” He informed you before grabbing them from his car. He also grabbed something else.. a camera. He recorded you on it for awhile before putting it away. Once the song ended Billy smashed his cigarette into the ground. “One more dance please!” You begged grabbing his hands. “One more..” he smiled. “Let’s let the mixtape choose what song.”

The song to dance to was REO speedwagon. ‘Keep on loving you.’ Billy took your hand, pulling you in by your waist. He wanted nothing more than to kiss you right now. He loved you he loved you so. You seen past the bullshit, past his ass attitude. You saw the good in him and brought it out. You laid your head on his collar bone as he held you close. “And I’m gonna keep on loving you..” your soft hun was heard. “I don’t wanna sleep, I just wanna keep on loving you.” Billy gave a soft smile down at you.

Once the song had finished you smiled up at him and went to the car, sitting in it. He stood outside for a moment, looking into the lake. He was trying to find courage to say ‘y/n I love you.’ But he couldn’t. He couldn’t find the words, instead he just got in and started up the car. “Your house?” He asked softly. “Mhm. Unless you have other plans for us.” You told him. He usually took you to a late night movie or something.

The ride home was slower than usual. He never drove slow like this home. Everything rose has its thorn played in the background. Finally pulling into your driveway he cut the car off, coming around and helping you out. He walked you to the door, rubbing his foot on the ground. “Hey Y/n?” He asked softly. “Yes billy?” You asked with a smile. “I love you.. I’ve been in love with you.” He let it out. “If you don’t love me that’s fine-“ he was cut off by you kissing him so softly. Your lips were what he imagined and more. “8 o’clock on Saturday. Don’t be late.” You smiled. “It’s a date.” He nodded. “Okay.” He looked like a kid that got candy. “See you then.” He kissed you again before hopping in his car with a smile. He watched you walk in before pulling off. Man was he shy.

#stranger things #oneshot #billy hargove imagine #billy hargrove x female reader

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abibliophobiaa · 1 year

Note

Hi hi Luna 🖤

for the birthday boy prompts, could I suggest the word ✨ moonlight ✨ please? thank you!!

so this one is, as we talked about, for both our boys. warnings: steddie x afab!reader; drinking; r wears Eddie/Steve’s shirt; allusions to sex, 18+ minors dni. part of a fic i am working on at the moment. 😌 (450 words)

Your body is humming. An endless buzz in your veins, bare toes curling in the grass, hips sliding against Eddie’s languidly. A soft to and fro to the REO Speedwagon song droning from a shoddy radio speaker, a whisper of his hands against your hips, the slightest of pressure that has the shirt covering you—one of his, or Steve’s, you’re not sure—rucking up higher on your thighs. Tantalizing against smooth skin.

Somewhere in the distance you hear Steve’s beer can open, but your hands press against the heat of Eddie’s bare chest, eyes heavy as they meet his dark ones. Heady and molten chocolate, driving warmth to your center, throbbing there with a desire for what comes later.

But now—now all you think about is his warmth, his frame brushing against yours in the moonlight, the ghost of his lips on your skin.

Against your cheeks, the curve of your jaw, the slope of your neck.

Friends.

You’re all friends.

But friends don’t know what their friends taste like, do they?

They don’t know that Eddie whines when you take him into your mouth, that Steve’s breath catches in his throat when you thread your fingers in his hair while his mouth is hot and insistent at your center.

And yet it’s not your first dance.

It’s not the first night you’ve ended up like this, fisting your hand in the curls at the back of Eddie’s head, his lips pliant against yours. Gentle brushes of skin against skin that have you leaning into him, his hands coming to slide under the hem of your shirt, pressing you closer, callused fingers against supple skin.

It’s not the first night you’ve both waved over Steve, a joking whisper of “come here, lover boy” from your lips, before he’s there at your back, pressing into you.

Not the first time his fingers have slid over the neckline of your shirt and tugged it to the side, cradling your jaw in one hand as his lips, tongue and teeth trace a sloven path along your flesh. Not the first time you’ve felt him hard and hot at your backside, fingers sliding beneath the hemline of your bathing suit bottom.

Not the first time they’ve held you as you shudder and writhe in their arms—there with praises and slow kisses, with fingers in your hair, against your curves.

Steve’s fingers.

Eddie’s fingers.

You never know where one of you starts and the other ends.

And it’s perfect. Divinely yours. A never ending summer, shifting through the ether, falling into love or lust.

There’s no beginning, no ending, only now.

And for now?

That’s more than enough.

#steddie x reader smut #steddie x reader #steddie x you #Eddie munson x reader #Eddie munson x you #Steve Harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington smut #eddie munson blurbs #eddie munson smut #lunalovessteve #lunaloveseddie

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dead-lausen-journeys · 1 month

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Ayoo— I have a Series going on!

i apologize for being kinda dead here, but this is why, I'm literally obsessed with jjba rn and I can't focus on literally anything else. So, I'm making a yandere series over on my Wattpad that will cover all parts of JoJo, 1—9. It's called the Journeys Across!, series! Phantom Blood is out rn. So it'd be cool if y'all checked it out! 🙂

https://www.wattpad.com/1444225760-%E2%98%85%E2%81%91%E2%94%9Cjourney%27s-across-phantom-blood-%E2%94%A4%E2%8B%86%EF%B8%B5%E2%9C%B0-%E2%8B%86%E2%94%9C%EF%BC%90%EF%BC%91%E2%94%A4from

#yandere jjba #yandere jojos bizarre adventure #yandere phantom blood #yandere part 1 #yandere dio brando #yandere jonathan joestar #yandere reo speedwagon #semi yandere kinda?#yandere dio #yandere jjba x reader #Journey Across! Phantom Blood

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zepskies · 1 year

Text

Never Say Goodbye - Epilogue

Pairing: Dean W. x Female Reader

Summary: The first time you and Dean sensed each other’s thoughts and feelings, you were just kids. It would take years to realize that you both were bonded for life, and even longer to finally meet. [Soulmate AU] (Rated M for eventual scenes – 18+)

AN: Song inspo for this chapter is “Sweet Time” by REO Speedwagon!

Word Count: 2,200 Warnings: Fluff overload!

Epilogue

Seven months later…

Dean settled his hands on your waist as he sidled up behind you in the kitchen, this time in the apartment you shared with him.

You jolted a bit in surprise, but your spine still tingled pleasantly when he enveloped you from behind.

You had gotten ready so quickly this morning that you hadn’t even greeted him yet. He was reminding you of it now as he pressed a kiss behind your ear.

“Gooood morning, Vietnam!” he joked.

He could call you and Sam nerds all he wanted, but Dean loved a classic movie reference.

You smiled and grabbed one of his hands.

“Hey, baby. How do I look on my first day as Senior Library Curator?” You turned and showcased what you were wearing.

Dean took in your long black pencil skirt, dark red blouse, and your “I mean serious business” heels with a low whistle, and he twirled you by the hand for effect. Dean himself was already dressed in his work uniform.

“I always like you in red,” he said, briefly focusing on the hint of cleavage, then down the curve of your waist before his gaze fell to your heels. His grin deepened. “I’ma need you to keep those on tonight.”

You laughed and grabbed onto his arms. “I will cook for you in nothing but these heels, but I just need you to do one thing for me.”

Dean’s brows raised as his grin edged into a suspicious smirk.

“I’m listening,” he said.

“I need someone to come pick out the flowers with me this weekend,” you said. “And the plates at the dinnerware rental place.”

Dean tipped his head back and groaned. That was so not “just one thing.”

You rubbed his arms.

“Please?” you asked. “I’ve already got the silverware picked out. I just need some help deciding on a few things.”

“I’m really not the one you want to take. I’m good with anything, seriously.”

You pouted at him. “You can’t be serious. You really don’t have any opinion on this stuff? This is our wedding, Dean.”

He gave you a measured look.

“Listen,” he said. “I don’t care if you want a Mariachi band with little sombreros on every drink. I just wanna get married.”

You laughed, but the sentiment behind his words made you smile. Your hands slid up to his shoulders as he pulled you in closer. A new silver ring, this time with a small shining stone, glinted on your left hand.

One of the few things Bobby had saved of Aunt Karen’s had been her wedding bands. He’d seen no better use for her engagement ring than giving it to his almost-son, for his almost-daughter. Dean was grateful, and you were honored to wear it.

“Okay, how about this,” you said. “I’ll ask Ellen and Jo to come with me to pick the flowers and the plates. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is creating a music playlist for the DJ.”

Dean perked up at that. Since the Roadhouse burned down, Ellen and Jo had moved up to Sioux Falls. Last he’d heard (yesterday, from you), Ellen had all but moved in with Bobby.

“But no ACDC,” you warned him. “And I’ll be approving the list when you’re done.”

Now it was his turn to pout. “Killjoy.”

At the puppy-dog downturn of his eyes, you rolled yours. You knew he was playing you, but somehow you were always weak for it.

You made a sound of exasperation.

“Okay, fine. One ACDC song.”

Dean flashed you a grin. “That’s why you’re my favorite.”

“Mhmm.”

“And, just so I know, are we still on for the naked cooking?” he asked.

You scoffed.

“Oh, no. That’s for men who obey me. You, sir, just welched out of every request I made.” You emphasized this with a finger pressing into his chest. Dean chuckled.

“Touché,” he said. “Okay, here’s what I can do for you. I will…take you out for dinner on Friday.”

You crossed your arms, waiting expectantly. Knowing he hadn’t hooked you yet, he amended.

“Tomorrow?” he said. “We’ll get sushi. Come on, we never get sushi.”

Mostly because Dean didn’t trust raw fish. But if he must, he could get some fried breaded shrimp if it made you happy. Plus, there were all those dipping sauces.

Dean liked dipping sauces.

“Dancing,” you said. “Tonight. Sushi after. Tomorrow, I promise I’ll cook for you…with the heels, and very little but the heels.”

Dean thought about it with an undecided hum. He wasn’t working late tonight, so he supposed he could go out. He almost grimaced at “dancing,” but you were gentle in pushing him past his comfort zone with stuff like this (and teaching him how to dance, slowly but surely).

Still, it was worth it to see you get all dressed up. Naked cooking was also very worth it.

“All right, I think I can make that work,” he said.

You smiled brightly, and he realized it was already worth it.

“Okay, I just have a few minutes before I need to get out of here,” you said, taking a breath.

You were a bit nervous about your first day in your new position. You had just been promoted after almost a year. While you were comfortable in your job at the museum, overseeing the rare books library, you’d never been a manager before. You would now have two new hires under you, and it was your responsibility to train them as well.

Dean felt your nervousness. He rubbed your back. “Hey. You’re gonna be great, baby. You know what you’re doing.”

With a grateful look, you braced your hands on his chest and smoothed out his black Sioux Falls PD uniform. He filled it out well.

“Gotten used to having a real uniform yet?” you asked. “Hope my dad’s not driving you too crazy.”

Dean grinned. “Nah. I’ll admit, he kicked my ass a bit in the beginning, but he’s a lot like Bobby. Soft in the middle.”

In fact, Jack was the one who’d recommended that Dean try out the police academy to begin with.

“You’ve got the instincts,” Jack had told him. It was their first time sharing a beer, about a month after Dean returned to South Dakota permanently. He’d been struggling to find a job that would fit him (and his lack of professional experience).

“What you lack in discipline now, you’ll make up for in knowin’ how to read people,” said Jack. “Being solid under pressure. Good at running down leads. And who knows. Maybe you’ll make detective one day.”

Dean smiled at the idea, but he still cocked his head uncertainly.

“I don’t know. I’m not exactly used to grabbing a warrant before I pick a lock, ya know?”

“Well, I know this.” Jack pointed at him. “You’re a shark, Dean. Sharks can’t stay still, they’ve gotta keep swimming.”

“Okay, meaning?”

“Doing construction, working on cars, fixing people’s houses…after a lifetime of being under fire, are you really gonna be content doing any of those?” Jack asked.

Dean was grateful for that conversation. While there were things he missed about his old life, he was able to build a new one. And he didn’t have to hang up his gun to do it.

Dean let go of you so he could twirl his keys around his finger and clip them to his belt in one smooth motion. “Just you wait. I’ll be runnin’ this town in no time.”

“That’s a scary thought.” You laughed. “Oh hey, has Sam called you? He’s supposed to tell me if he’s bringing a plus one to the wedding.”

Dean smiled, despite a rueful twinge. Sam was halfway through his first year in law school—over in New York. He came home for the weekend whenever he could, but if Dean was honest, it was hard letting Sam run back to school.

What made it easier was that Dean wasn’t alone this time. He had you. You were also understanding, and you insisted that Sam stay here at the apartment whenever he came home.

“Yeah, he was gonna tell you in person this weekend, but…he found her,” Dean said.

You gasped. “No, he did?”

“Yeah, he really found his soulmate. On the subway of all places.”

You laughed. “That must’ve been a fun ride.”

You could only imagine the chaos of starting to hear your soulmate’s thoughts in a New York City subway. You were so happy for Sam.

You clapped your hands.

“Oh, I’m so excited to meet her! This is going to be so awesome! Is he bringing her this weekend? What’s her name? Is she going to school too?”

Dean laughed and calmed down your onslaught of questions. That, at least, hadn’t changed.

“Okay, come on. You’re going to be late for work,” he reminded you. “Your first day as head boss lady of dusty books.”

“Excuse me. Rare dusty books,” you corrected with a playful slap to his chest. “But this is too important! Ugh, I’m calling him right now.”

“No, you don’t. He’s in class, and now we both need to get to work. Come on, get those perky buns movin’.”

He ushered you out by lightly spanking your butt. You sighed, but you were still smiling as you grabbed your purse and let him guide you out the front door. You lived on the first floor, so it was a quick walk to where both your cars were parked: the sleek black Impala and a blue Camaro, side by side.

Before you forgot, you reached out and grabbed Dean by the collar.

“All right, Officer. Have a good day today,” you said.

Dean smirked and tucked a strand of your hair, freed from your clip, behind your ear.

“See ya, beautiful. Don’t dust off any suspicious lamps.”

“I thought you said genies weren’t like that in real life,” you quipped. You leaned up on your toes, and he met you there with a kiss that was sweet at first, but then it lingered and deepened. He held you to him close.

These were the small kinds of moments that he liked to savor with you. Because it reminded him of a time when he never thought he would have this—a life outside of hunting. A life after hunting.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was a real life with you, where Sam was still an important part of it.

“I love you. You know that?” said Dean.

And he meant that, deep in his bones.

When he gave you that ring a few months ago, it finally hit him that what he felt wasn’t just part of the “cosmic bond,” as you’d once called it. The two of you had scraped and fought hard to find each other, and even harder to stay with each other.

And he hadn’t protected you just because he felt responsible for your safety. He’d done it because the idea of losing you had scared him worse than dying himself.

So when you smiled and kissed him again, Dean breathed in your perfume and reminded himself that those darker days were in the past. Your airy laugh reminded him.

“Yeah, I do know,” you replied with a wink. “I’ll see you later.”

He tugged you back by the hand. “Uh, uh. If I say it, you gotta say it.”

“Oooh, I see. My bad,” you nodded. You took his hand—the one that wore his mother’s ring—and you kissed his knuckles. “I love you. I love you, and I love you. Be safe out there.”

He grinned and finally released you. You got in your car and watched him leaning against Baby with his arms crossed and his sunglasses on. In his police uniform, he looked like a scene out of Bad Boys.

You beeped the horn at him twice before you pulled out of the driveway. Dean watched you go with a smirk. When he realized he was pushing it for time himself, he climbed into the Impala. He stroked the leather steering wheel.

What do you know, Baby. We’re respectable.

Jack was definitely going to ride his ass for being late. Today, that was all right.

Dean never thought this would be his life, but he had a feeling that his dad would be proud.

He would be, he heard you say in his mind, through the soul bond. He is.

Dean smiled.

Focus on the road, he reminded you. He sensed the equivalent of you rolling your eyes. But a few minutes later, he heard you jamming out to REO Speedwagon. Another rock wannabe, in his opinion. Only you would listen to that crap.

Baby, we can take our own sweet tiiiime. And spend it when we want to ‘cause it’s yours and miiiine, you sang, and not always on key.

Let our love come easy and we fiiiind…~

Dean shook his head, despite a fond smirk.

…Well, he thought, maybe this one wasn’t that bad.

We can make it. And we’ll take our own sweet time.

AN: *sniffs* Who's peeling onions?

But seriously, thank you so much to all of you who read and enjoyed this story! It's been one of my favorites to write in a long time.

And I will say, if I do get requests, I will return to this AU and dabble some more. I love early seasons Sam and Dean, and this world is a special one to me!

Read the Sequel:

Ready for some bonus chapters? Here's a three-part sequel:

Summary: You and Dean are just weeks away from getting married, but when you find a questionable book at work, it spirals into one last hunt for you all.

Keep Reading: Bonus Track #1

Series Masterlist

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

@curlycarley @buckywenal24 @jamerlynn @iprobablyshipit91 @globetrotter28 @deamus-liv @irgendwas122 @deans-spinster-witch @dogbarkbark4445 @my-proof-is-you @vera0124 @deans-baby-momma @lacilou @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @theonlymaninthesky @spnexploration @itzabbyxx @cevans-winchester @imagineteller1 @icequeen1371 @tiredqueen73 @bitchwitch1981 @abbigaleelizabeth @ohgodthebogisback @where-the-river-bends @loveprof6 @shadowcrowsworld @thespnlover @this-is-me19 @stevenknightmarc @leigh70 @pallographsunspot @syrma-sensei @brain-has-left @jassackles @hobby27 @ashbatz @zaratahir @lokisnumber1whore @saranghaey @jori21 @lillyrob @adoringanakin @agirlwithdemonblood @mimaria420

#spn #supernatural #spn season 2 #dean x reader #dean x you #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x female reader #dean winchester x soulmate!reader #dean x female reader #spn fanfic #soulmate au #sam winchester #bobby singer #ellen harvelle #fluff #never say goodbye finale #zepskies writes

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secondaxispoint · 1 year

Note

joel x reader carving their names into a tree :)

Pairing: Joel Miller x Male!Reader

Warnings: None!

Content: Fluff!

I know this is really short but I hop you enjoy it anyway! Thanks for the request!!!

Carvings

You, Joel, and Ellie were camping out in a seemingly endless forest in between travelling. There wasn’t enough room for the three of you to sleep comfortably in the truck, so you all had to set up camp outside. You sacrificed your sleeping bag for Ellie because she had somehow lost hers in the past few hours. So you sighed and snatched Ellie’s walkman while sitting yourself down by a tree. Joel had thrown down his sleeping back at your feet and joined you by the tree.

You're a candle in the window

On a cold, dark winter's night

And I'm getting closer than I ever thought I might

And I can't fight this feeling anymore

I've forgotten what I started fighting for

It's time to bring this ship into the shore

And throw away the oars, forever

You had headphones on and were playing music from the walkman, nodding your head along with the nostalgic music. You had snagged a cassette from Tommy before you had left so you threw that on as you watched over the others. You had just been messing with your knife when Joel snatched your headphones and put them up to his ear.

“Damn. I haven't heard REO Speedwagon in years.”

He smiled and handed the headphones back to you. You were going to say something but didn’t want to disturb the peaceful silence so you dropped your gaze and fiddled with the handle of your knife. He saddled up next to you and leaned his head back onto the tree and let out a breath.

“You should get some sleep. Don’t worry, I’ll take first watch.”

Still staring at your feet, you heard Joel shuffle and get up to move back towards his sleeping bag. You look up at the sky and get yourself ready for a long night. But before you could pout about it, you hear Joel trudging back over to you. He had his pocket knife in hand when he sat down next to you. But instead of sitting up against the tree, he faced the tree itself. He put his blade up against the tree and slowly stripped a small patch of bark from the trunk.

“What the hell are you doing Joel?”

He didn’t respond but stopped stripping the bark, instead he started chiselling small lines in the barren area. So you turned to face him and his little project to see what he had etched in the tree. It had his initials with a plus sign under them. You laughed at the cheesy gesture and leaned in, carving your own initials under his.

You heard footsteps behind you and when you turned, the both of you saw Ellie with an annoyed expression on her face. She leaned down and inspected the carvings in the tree trunk. She reached into her pocket and took out and flipped open her own knife. She carved a crude EW underneath your own signature.

Once she was seemingly satisfied with her work, she nodded and walked back to her sleeping bag. You and Joel looked at eachother, on the verge of bursting out laughing. Joel calmed himself and kissed the corner of your mouth before he too retreated back to his sleeping bag. You sighed and watched over the two, slowly tracing the carvings in the trunk. You put the headphones back on and continued your nostalgia trip.

'Cause I can't fight this feeling anymore

I've forgotten what I started fightin' for

And if I have to crawl upon the floor

Come crashing through your door

Baby, I can't fight this feeling anymore

I was listening to REO Speedwagon while writing this ✋

#joel miller x reader #joel x reader #joel miller x male reader #joel miller #x male reader #male reader insert #male reader #reader insert #the last of us #tlou series #tlou hbo #tlou show #tlou #ellie tlou #ellie the last of us #i love joel miller #mlm

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trashmouth-richie · 2 years

Text

TWIN FLAMES

Eddie Munson x female!reader

“You and I we are embers from the same fire, dust from the same star, echoes of the same love.” -Craig Crippen

Summary: Your boyfriend Steve is everything you’ve ever wanted. Handsome, kind, a great lover. Nothing could ever stray you away from him. Or is there?

<w/c> 5.7k (1/??)

Pairing: Steve Harrington x y/n female!reader Eddie Munson x y/n female!reader Vickie x Robin

Warnings: underage alcohol use, drug use, fighting, mentions of child abuse, mentions of murder.

A/N: happy saturday, this is a first ever fic for me! Like everyone on the planet, I am obsessed with Eddie Munson, I’m nervous very nervous to be posting this! But feedback is greatly appreciated! Also shout/out to @boomhauer for reading this and giving me advice ❤️‍🔥

knock knock no vecna here ❗️his crusty ass does not exist in this fic and will never

masterlist

———————————————————————————

You and Steve Harrington have been dating since freshman year. Both of your dads went to Harvard together and you had known Steve since you were infants. Always together during the holidays and weekend trips to Indianapolis, your friendship blossomed into something more. He wasn’t always big hair and a cute ass in jeans, he was once a pimply preteen with a puberty voice and braces. But it didn’t matter, you loved him then and loved him now. Going into your senior year you couldn’t wait to graduate high school and leave Indiana behind with Steve by your side. You had both already talked about going to Harvard to follow in your parents footsteps. It was the perfect, ideal life you had always wanted. It was a safe option, And you were smitten.

Living in Bridgeport which is east of Hawkins about 15 miles and an even smaller town than Hawkins, you didn’t really know anyone besides Steve’s friends that went to Hawkins High. So when he picked you up on that hot July night to go to a party at some farm in Hawkins, you didn’t expect to meet anyone in particular.

“Steve can you please slow down, I’m going to poke my fucking eye out back here!” Robin yells from the backseat, Robin had been trying to achieve the perfect smoky eye look for the last 10 miles.

“Oh piss off Robin, Vickie will be too busy staring at your boobies to notice whether or not your eyeliner is even” Steve shoots back.

You stifle a giggle, their banter is something you miss during the school months when you’re dealing with the assholes at your school. Steve squeezes your thigh and gives you a wink before turning up the radio and singing along to REO Speedwagon.

“Hey did you guys hear that Susie and her family are moving to Hawkins?! I thought Dustin was going to lose his voice when he told me he was screaming so loud” you added through the car.

Steve turns the radio down and agrees, “yeah he was pretty excited, honestly I am too it’ll be nice to actually meet her instead of listening to him talk about her 24/7”.

“Fucking finally!” Robin says as Steve pulls up to the large nearly run down barn. Usually the parties you accompany Steve to are at his house but, both of your parents were there throwing a “Wine Club” party for the Hawkins elite. So Tommy Johnson, who must have been a senior like Steve, decided to have the pre holiday celebration at his parents abandoned barn. It made you feel a little uncomfortable drinking somewhere you’ve never been before. Both Steve and Robin assured you it was cool, Tommy’s parents were friends with the Hawkins Police and they never bothered to even check in.

Robin is the first out of the car before it’s even in park, she grabs her bottle of Boonesfarm from the trunk and makes her way over to where Vickie is dancing along to Michael Jackson. Before you can even unbuckle your seatbelt, Robin and Vickie are all over each other. You clear your throat to Steve pointing out Robin and Vickie. Steve rolls his eyes and laughs.

“She deserves to be happy, it took her a long time to find someone who wasn’t just using her for a one time experience”. A single tear wells up in his eyes and you can see how incredibly happy he is for his closest friend.

Robin truly is one of a kind. Taller than most girls and uniquely her own, Robin was sweet and your first friend from Hawkins outside of Steve. In the 4 years you’ve known her, she has never forgotten your birthday or your and Steve’s anniversary. You had heard of the awful things people would say to her knowing that she was different, the popular girls even accused her of staring and taking pictures of them in the locker rooms while changing for P.E. She was the town pariah until Vickie showed up, saving Robin in ways no one else could.

Slamming the door shut to the car and making your way over to Steve, you smile up at him as he wraps his arm around your waist walking into the Christmas light lit barn.

A mixture of gravel and loose dirt grating beneath your shoes is muffled as music begins pounding through your ears. The barn is crowded and sweltering, sweaty bodies are bopping along to the music. Beer is spilled all over the wooden splintered floor becoming puddled in places the old floor has been warped from use. Looking up seeing Steve wave to some familiar faces, you start to recognize a few people who are regulars at Steve’s parties.

Nancy and El are opposite Jonathan and Mike; a long makeshift table between them. The closer you get you notice the “table” is a door, ripped off its hinges and sitting atop two sawhorses. Red plastic cups filled to the brim with warm cheap beer are set in a triangle in front of the girls, only two cups missing. Across the table, four cups are arranged in no particular pattern in front of Jonathan and Mike. Clearly the girls are whooping their asses in beer pong.

“El! No powers, it's not fair!!” Mike yells removing another cup as Johnathan chugs one previously removed. El wipes her nose and high fives Nancy.

“Balls back bitches!” Nancy squeals, jumping up and down. You wave politely to the crew and they all hoot and holler back at you and Steve. Max and Lucas are standing hip to hip in a small crowd watching Max’s brother Billy do a keg stand and cheering and counting along,

“25, 26, 27….”

“That’s a fucking record Hargrove!” a tall red haired teen shouts holding his hands up to his mouth imitating a megaphone, a cigarette staggering between his fingers and ashes falling like snow to the ground.

The teens holding Billy’s legs set him down as he throws both arms up in the air like a boxer being announced champion. He leans his head back, hair sticky with sweat, eyes glossed over clearly the effects of another stimulant. He puckers his mouth as if to whistle but instead spits beer in the air towards the crowd. You watch as the girls in the crowd open their mouths to catch any fallen drips of beer from the atmosphere as if Billy is the second coming of Christ himself.

Steve gives you a look of disgust and rubs on your back and guides you both towards a beat up green patterned couch. You know Steve is not Billy’s biggest fan, only tolerating him because of Max, calling him an outright unhinged psycho. He frequented Steve’s parties and made his presence known by doing the infamous keg stands. Girls flocked to him, hoping to become his flavor of the night like he was a goddamn celebrity.

Careful not to sit on the exposed springs on the beat to shit couch, you scoot to the end of the couch, leaning against the side taking in the smells of dusty hay, weed, and spilled alcohol. Steve grabs you a beer before plopping down next to you throwing his arm around your shoulder. He leans into you and whispers “you’re the prettiest girl here y/n” in your ear before kissing your temple and blowing a raspberry into your ear. You squeal and dig your maroon painted fingers into his armpit knowing that’s his most ticklish spot. You both laugh and share a kiss, cuddled up as you watch the party and giggle as people start dancing terribly to ‘Thriller’.

“Oh shit, hey babe I’m gonna go talk to Tommy really quick, you okay here for a bit?” Steve whispers into your ear. You nod and he gets up, leaning down to give you a quick kiss on your lips.

“Be right back!” He says, as he saunters off through the crowd.

Tapping your foot along to the music, you take some long swigs of your beer. letting your mind wander. It's crazy to you how close you are to being a senior and how not soon after that you will be going to college with Steve. Both of your mothers had talked you both into getting senior pictures done together last month. It was a perfect cool June morning that day and you and Steve had on slightly matching outfits, light faded jeans with white button ups. Your mother was tearing up behind the photographer as Steve’s mother clung to her wiping her nose. You can’t believe how lucky you were to have Steve in your life. He was your first everything, boyfriend, kiss, you both were virgins before each other. It was perfect. You couldn’t wait to spend the rest of your life with Steve and to become Y/n Y/m/n Harrington.

Soon your beer is gone and Steve has left the sixer in the trunk. Looking around you spot another keg opposite where the one Billy and his cronies were. You get up making your way across the party lightly bumping into peoples shoulders and squeezing your way around a couple making out. Nobody is around the keg when you finally spot it. Eyeing a plastic cup you place the nozzle into it and begin pumping the tap on the keg— nothing happens. A small trickle of cream foam makes its way out of the nozzle falling into the cup like molasses. Well that settles why no one is around the keg.

Standing on a nearby crate you look around the barn for Steve. Shouldn’t be too hard, just need to find that perfect suave head of his, he isn’t called “the hair” because he uses Irish spring as shampoo. But to no avail, Steve is nowhere in site. You climb down from the crate and begin pushing your way back to the other keg Billy has claimed for himself. Walking through a dense cloud of weed smoke you hear someone singing “Free Bird” and two other voices giggling. Coughing a bit and nearing the keg, you hear Billy shouting at someone.

“Hey watch it dick!” Billy is now wearing a pink sweater? No wait, that’s a girl wrapped around him like a leech, her mouth still attached to his neck as he yells.

“What the fuck did you say to me Hargrove?” a guy in a green letterman jacket yells back.

“I said, watch where you’re throwing that tic tac you call dick around before I knock your ass out” Billy grunts pushing the girl off of him and stepping towards the other guy so that they are nose to nose. He is sweating profusely and wearing a big purple hickey where the human sucker fish girl was previously.

They are both staring at each other with looks that could kill. “Oh real—" the comeback is cut short by Billy as he leans back and throws a hard punch right into the other guy's jaw.

The guy stumbles backwards into his friends as he caresses his jaw. He stands to his full height and shoves Billy backwards. Everyone starts yelling and you realize you are in a compromised position. You aren’t sure how it happens but you are caught in the mix of the fight and before you know it, you get knocked backward, hard.

Your head connects with a loud thwack as it hits a wooden post extending upwards to support the old barn. Almost immediately you can feel the headache pumping through your eyeballs. Sitting up as the room begins to spin and touching the side of your head, you can feel a warm thick liquid beginning to pool on your shoulder. The cut feels small but since you have been drinking the blood comes quickly. Before you can even understand how to get out of the barn or to find Steve, arms come behind you and under your arms, helping you stand up and ushering you towards the door to outside.

“Move! Get the fuck out of the way!” The voice behind you says. You’re fading in and out. You suddenly feel the lightness of your body floating. A bed? No, a cloud has wrapped around you and is carrying you higher and higher to the sky. The sensation is comforting and you can hear someone talking to you in a sweet angelic voice. When you finally open your eyes, a pair of warm rough hands are holding your face, a slight sting to them.

You look up to see a pair of melted hershey's kiss eyes staring back at you.

But they aren’t the usual brown eyes you are used to seeing. These eyes are so brown they could fill a naughty kid’s stocking at Christmas. The ones you always see are lighter— like little pots of honey. The shape is different too, these are big, almost doe like. The outline of a face finally comes into view. It’s not one you recognize. You blink repeatedly trying to focus your vision on who is in front of you.

———————-

“FUCK JULY!” Eddie shouts to anyone who will listen. “It’s hot, sticky, fuck— how the hell am I supposed to wear a leather jacket if it’s 110 degrees out here?!”

“Simple, you don’t” Jeff says wiping his brow. “But if you would shut the hell up we could get done faster”

“Why the fuck did you want to do this outside?!” Gareth whines.

Tonight was the night any small town drug dealer waits all year for. All the jock bastards and their girlfriends and their older brothers and sisters are home for the 4th of July holiday and the only thing they are looking for is to get high. And since Reefer Rick was locked up since April.. Eddie is the main attraction.

Instead of Eddie’s usual lunch box he toted around for quick deals, he turned the back of the van into a full blown operation. The three teens have been rolling joints and blunts since sun up this morning. The morning was a decent 75° but once the wind died down it was game over for the metal heads. Gareth had seriously been thinking of cutting off his jeans into a daisy duke type outfit. Eddie, refusing to do anything not metal, was full clad in jeans, leather jacket and shaggy curly hair. Jeff had retired his shirt and tied it around his head in a makeshift bandana.

The thing about Forest Hills trailer park is that there is next to zero shade. So there they were, huffing it out in the back of Eddie’s van, arms coated in sweat and hair stuck to the back of their necks. Each getting more and more irritated as the day goes on.

“Alright boys let’s split these up into bags: 5 to a bag on the left and 10 to a bag on the right.” Eddie directs.

Jason Carver had been the one to make the call to Eddie and specifically ask for weed and coke for Johnson’s party tonight. That white powdery shit is a BIG payday for Eddie and as much as he hates carrying it, never having even touched it himself… Okay fine! There was that one time where Rick and Sal had convinced Eddie to snort a pixy stick, and it turns out they traded the sugary colored powdered candy out for coke. Yeah hilarious. Since then, Eddie hasn’t touched the shit, but knowing it was a “rich man’s” drug he really couldn’t resist the extra cash. And if it would take all day to arrange the drugs to make a big sale, he would do it.

With everything set up and ready to go Eddie stands to his feet hitting his head with a thud on the roof of the van.

“Jesus H Christ!” He grunts, rubbing his thick, tangled and sweaty hair against his head.

“Alright boys,” Eddie says now leaning forward and ducking out of the van, “I’m gonna take a shower and I suggest you both do the same if you plan on trying to get laid tonight.”

Jeff lets out a laugh wiping his face with his bandana shirt combo and hopping out of the van, “what time you picking us up Eddie?”

“Yeah no shit, I still have to get Mark to buy us some booze” Gareth chimes in.

“Ehh 9:30 and not a minute later, here’s $20 for my beer.”

Eddie says handing Gareth the money. He slips it into his pocket and they disappear in Jeff’s car, a cloud of dust trailing behind them out of the trailer park.

Eddie stretches the cramps out of his long legs and climbs the steps up to the trailer. The blast of lukewarm air hits his face and the relief enters his pores and begins the cooling sensation all over his body.

After taking a longer than normal cold shower only getting out after hearing Uncle Wayne pounding on the door, “Damn son, you better have all of your laundry in there washing it by hand with how long your skinny ass has been in there for wasting that water!” Eddie emerges from the bathroom with a towel hung low on his hips.

“Sorry” he chuckles to Wayne. “It’s just fucking hot out today”

“Listen I don’t want to know what you’re doing in there just try to cut it short alright” Wayne says tussling Eddie’s wet hair giving him a grin through parted lips a cigarette hanging between them.

—————————————————————————

Finally getting ready and picking up the boys, Gareth, Eddie and Jeff made it to Johnson’s barn and are shotgunning cool beers in celebration. Suds run down Eddie’s chin and he wipes them away with the back of his hand. The deal between Eddie and Jason has been dealt with and all that was left in the van were a couple of joints.

Gareth is hunkered down in the back of the van doing smoke tricks trying hard to impress some junior girls. Eddie looks back and gives his friend a thumbs up and a shit eating grin. Jealousy is something that comes quickly to Eddie. Not that he was jealous of Gareth, hell no. He just was jealous that a girl was paying attention to him in that way, well any sort of way.

Eddie always thought of himself as not only a lost sheep but a black sheep as well. “Stealing, dealing, Victor Creelin’” that was the ‘Munson men’ mantra that was engraved in his brain since he was 7 years old. And as badass as that sounded, he just didn’t fit the bill.

Instead of stealing whatever was valuable and doing shady deals and killing whoever got in the way like his dad, Eddie started working full time at only thirteen years old in the summer time for Jimmy at his garage in town. Begging Jimmy and promising he wouldn’t turn out like his old man, Eddie was a natural at learning the ins and outs of the cars that came through the bays. Jimmy taught him everything he knew from airing up a tire to repairing motors, he took Eddie under his wing and showed him the ropes. Giving Eddie some pride for the first time in his life from someone other than his uncle Wayne.

After being tossed in juvy at eight years old for being an accomplice to a string of gas station robberies and even the murder of one of the clerks and naive enough to think that his dad would take the blame only to pin it all on Eddie: he vowed to never take anything his dad said seriously again. The county finally pulled their heads out of their asses and Eddie was released.

He even gathered enough courage to tell his dad to fuck off when he asked for Eddie’s help one week after his 6 month stay in juvy for one more job, earning him a black eye that the whole town turned their heads at.

But not towards him to see that he was being abused at home, but away from him, regarding him as trailer trash and that whatever happened he probably deserved it. Wayne stepped in after that, being awarded full guardianship over Eddie since his dad was locked up and would be for life.

That was twelve years ago, and Eddie hadn’t seen his dad since. Wayne and Eddie moved on from the past trying like hell to change the “Munson men Mantra”. Wayne was rough around the edges, skin like leather, voice gruff but he was honest, hard working and showed Eddie how to make an honest man’s wage. As grateful as Eddie was for Wayne, there was always something missing. He knew Wayne cared for him but what Eddie yearned for was someone to love him in a way Wayne could not. He wanted to love someone like in those cheesy romcom movies he caught Wayne sometimes watching.

The daydreaming gaze in Eddie’s eyes is lost at the sight of Dustin Henderson and Will Byers double fisting some beer. “Ah, good sirs, what have we here?”

“Eddie! Man I didn’t think you would show up to this party! Mike, Will and I begged Nancy to drag us along. Mike told her that he would tell their mom if she didn’t bring us with! Pretty cool right?!” Dustin brags. Eddie can’t help but laugh at how ridiculous they both look. His Hellfire crew, his little lost sheep that he had a brotherly love for. He would die for these kids and they all knew it.

“Yeah, give me one of those,” Eddie says, grabbing a beer from both of them.

“Hey Eddie I was wondering if I could—” Will stammered.

“Nope you know my rule, I don’t deal to under class-men especially ones whose brothers already buy from me.”

He stops Will before he can even get started. Will hangs his head and pushes around some dirt around with the toe of his shoe.

“Sorry man, I just can’t bring myself to do that. I don’t have many rules but what kind of man would I be if I didn’t have at least one?” Eddie reaches up to ruffle Will’s stick straight bowl cut a bit and gives him a toothy grin.

Jeff takes another long pull of his beer and is dragged by Dustin out into the clearing to have a stick fight.

“Loser has to do the other's homework for a week!” Dustin yells behind him to Jeff.

Gareth and his lady friends have made their way into the barn laughing and swaying along singing “Freebird” leaving Eddie and Will behind the van.

“‘scuse me Will, I gotta drain the main vein” Eddie says crushing the finished beer in his hand and tossing it behind him. Eddie walks to the front of the van setting the cold can from Dustin on the dented, paint faded hood.

“cause I’m as freeeeee as a birrrrrd nowwwww” Eddie sings to himself, unzipping his pants and baring his birthday suit to the blackness around him. Trying to write “Eddie” in cursive in the dirt below him, Eddie hears what could only mean one thing.

“FIIIGHT!” Is screamed from inside the barn, yanking up his pants careful to not zip up his manhood, Eddie runs inside to see what’s going on. Billy Hargrove and some other asshat are punching each other both piss drunk. He’s about to walk out of the barn, when something catches his eye, and that’s when he sees you. Leaned up against a post with blood dripping down your face. Pushing his way through the crowded, drunk, yelling assholes in the barn, he manages to get behind you yanking you up, yelling at everyone to move out of the way so he can get you out of the chaos, your body goes limp and Eddie starts carrying you bridal style to the van. He fishes in his pockets for his keys and tosses them to Will who is still standing beside the van. “Unlock it!” Eddie instructs.

“Oh shit! What happened?!” Will screams. Eddie sets you down in the back of the van holding your head in his hands. “She got knocked out in that fight, here help me, do you know her name?” He asks Will as he leans you up against one of the amps. He gently slaps your cheeks trying to wake you up.

“No, I have no idea who she is,” Will says frantically.

“Come on come on!” Eddie repeats, Your eyes start to flutter open and you look up at him. In that moment Eddie felt as if his entire life meant nothing until this very second. He had never seen anyone quite like you before. But that’s not what kept him staring.

—————————————————————————

Fireworks. You swore there were fireworks in those eyes staring deep into your soul. The guy looking back at you was someone you have never seen before, yet it felt like you have known him for years.

He had long curly brown hair, surprisingly plump lips, and those eyes… wow.

“A-are you okay? How many fingers am I holding up?”

He takes his hands off of your face and holds up 3 ring adorned fingers. Without your eyes leaving him you manage to stutter out, “th-three”.

“Ah, she speaks” he coos with a toothy grin.

His veiny arms fall to his sides and you take in the rest of him. He has broad shoulders and a slender waist. Tattoos peek out from the collar of his shirt and his sleeves decorating his alabaster skin. He’s wearing a Black Sabbath shirt with black jeans and converse.

“Do you remember what happened sweetheart?” He asks, concern in his eyes.

“I uh.. I think I fell over and hit my head” you stumble over your words.

Your tongue feels like thick and heavy and your mouth is suddenly dry. His hands are on your chin turning it gently to the side to assess your head injury. His fingers feel like a lightning strike against your skin, it’s electric, burning, but oddly comforting.

“I don’t think you need stitches, but here, hold this so it will stop bleeding.” He hands you a wadded up shirt, lightly grabbing your hand and placing it at the site of your cut.

“Will, run to the house and find whatever you can to get this thing cleaned, bandaids, peroxide some water probably to clean her up.”

You didn’t even notice that there was a boy standing beside him. The younger but taller boy runs off towards the house. You aren’t sure if it’s because you hit your head that you didn’t see the other boy or simply because your eyes haven’t left the dark chocolate ones staring into yours since your eyes opened. Your stomach is doing flips and your heart is racing.

“What's your name sweetheart?” he grins at you.

“Y/n” you reply in barely a whisper, mouth still feeling dry.

“I’m uh, I’m Eddie” he stammers out a light shade of blush tickling his cheeks and ears.

Eddie? Hmmm… the name doesn’t ring a bell. But why do you feel like you’ve known him before?

“Are you from Bridgeport?” You blurt out the annoying feeling of knowing someone but can’t remember where taking over.

You couldn’t explain it but there is no way this is your first time meeting him. You feel a powerful unearth like connection to him. Something past the soul, deeper than any ocean, seeing him fills you with a comfort you never knew was missing from your life and suddenly you feel complete.

“No, I’ve lived in Hawkins all my life.” Eddie replies, chuckling lightly. “But it's odd I feel that way too, like I’ve met you before but I can’t understand where.”

Eddie doesn’t know much about science or the Earth’s gravitational pull but this definitely feels like some sort of scientific reasoning as to why he feels this way. He can’t take his eyes off of you. You are both new to him but also recognizable. He’s certain he has never seen you before, he would have surely talked to you if he had. But the loud thumping in his chest is telling him that he knows you. Maybe on a different planet, a different plane. A spiritual one. He doesn’t know and doesn’t care, all he knows is that you’re the one his soul has been searching for. The love he wants to give and reciprocate is right in front of him, in a twist of fate.

You shiver under his gaze realizing how crazy this situation is. But you have yet to look away from him. You can see yourself in his eyes. Like someone is holding a mirror up and you are him, he is you. How can that be? How can you feel this way towards someone you quite literally are just meeting for the first time?

“So you’re not from Hawkins?” Eddie asks, licking his lips and squeezing into the van beside you. He crosses his long legs into a crisscross pretzel situation and you turn facing him. He searches his pocket for a lighter and grabs one of the joints from the baggies on the floor of the van. He holds the joint to his lips, keeping eye contact with you the entire time. He flicks the lighter and you watch as the end of the joint turns crimson and he inhales deeply, holding it in for a few seconds before rocking on his side to lean out of the open van doors, throwing his head back and exhaling into the open midnight sky.

If sex was a physical person to would be him. You have never seen anyone like him in your entire existence. You forget he asked you a question so he asks again.

“Ohh, s-sorry, no I’m uh— hah —- I’m from Bridgeport.” you stutter out. Mesmerized by his good looks.

Eddie blushes again looking at you, he thought for sure a couple hits from the joint would make him relax enough to stop staring or fumbling his words.

“Okay I’m sorry,” he blurts out, “I want to figure this out because it’s bothering me…how— how does it feel like I’ve known you my entire life? Where the hell did you come from? I’ve never seen you before but I also feel like I was meant to meet you.” Eddie says all in one giant breath.

“Y-yeah, me too, I think I know what you’re saying” you sit up on your knees leaning closer into him. “I’m going to ask some questions so we can figure this out”

“Let's do it,” Eddie says, clapping his hands together and rubbing them like a homeless man over a barrel of fire.

“Are you a senior?”

“Yes, third times the charm”

“Me too, only this is my first time, where do you work?”

“Jimmy’s Garage since I was 13, you? Sweetheart, don’t tell me you’re secretly Robert under there and you’re gonna Scooby Doo unzip yourself and scare the shit outta me!”

“No! Oh my God” you say laughing, Eddie is also laughing, his dimples poking out as he smiles. “I work at the Bridgeport pool, kinda a ‘if you can’t beat ‘em join em’ situation I didn’t learn to swim until I was almost 13, I almost drowned once” you admit.

“No way! No fucking way! I also almost drowned but I was a little younger and didn’t learn to swim until I was 12.” Eddie’s face lights up as he looks at you and he leans in a little closer.

Going back and forth for a few minutes you find out that he is in a band and plays at the Hideout, a small dive bar in south Hawkins. You tell him all about your life in Bridgeport, along with being a lifeguard you sometimes babysit on weekends.

So far, outside of the weird coincidences of both being afraid of dogs, and both having birthmarks on your inner elbows. Nothing is adding up. You have never been to the Hideout, nor did you even know that Hawkins had a mechanic shop. Eddie had been to Bridgeport once with his dad as a kid, but that was more than ten years ago. Again that rush of electricity is pounding in your chest, this is too weird, the similarities, the feeling of comfortability with him. Your heart is soaring, you have never felt this way about anyone in your life. It’s like you’re on the same page of a book that only you two have copies of.

Everything about him is drawing you closer to him, he smells like cheap cologne and muted cigarettes. He pulls the hand that’s holding the shirt to your head away to see if it’s still bleeding. His touch is gentle but fierce. Digging around in the back of the van he finds a water bottle and dumps it on the clean side of the shirt.

“I’m not sure if Will is crawling to the house and back but Uhh, hold still I’m gonna attempt some doctor shit” Eddie says giving you a wicked smile.

He cleans the blood away from your face, down your neck, and in your hair. The water is cold and feels good, you can feel his breath in your neck as he wipes it clean.

Your stomach starts to flutter as your mind wanders watching his tongue peek out from his lips in concentration. He is comforting like a warm blanket right out of the dryer. Eddie places his hands on either side of you leaning in, “there, good as new pretty girl” he says with a wink. You blush from his compliment and turn your face away. Eddie grabs your chin forcing you to look at him.

“I don’t know what kind of magnetic pull the universe is doing right now princess, I’ve been fighting this since the moment I laid eyes on you,and —fuck I can’t fight it anymore.” Eddie whispers.

Eddie grabs your face with both hands, his hands warm and the cold stinging of his rings bite at your cheeks, leaving a static currant pulsing from him to you. You feel almost animalistic in the way your body is responding to him. Like you don’t even have to think of what to do your body is ready for his next move. Without missing a beat you wet your lips and lean into him. Your consciousness is screaming a name into your head. But it’s muffled and you can’t make it out. Feeling Eddie’s lips on yours the name finally rings clear.

Steve

———————————————————————————

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