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#stranger thinge x oc
msgexymunson · 10 months
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Soft Touches
Description: you and your dealer Eddie get a little closer than anticipated.
Warnings: acquaintances to lovers, reader is AFAB, weed smoking (both parties so no real dub con), fem oral receiving, praise kink, p in v unprotected sex.
A/N: It's my birthday! And I'm high, and horny, so happy birthday! If you've read my work you KNOW I'm a sucker for the first time y/n fucks Eddie. When I'm a benevolent dictator it shall be a universal holiday ;)
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“Eddie, what the hell was in that?” 
Floating in a cloud of your high, the entire room seemed to glow in pink and orange, senses tinged in a sunset glow. You were definitely stoned out of your tree if you were comparing Eddie's stuffy, cramped room to a breath-taking sunset. 
“It's a new strain I got from Rick. You feeling it?” 
“Oh, I'm feeling it alright. I can hear colours.” 
Eddie's rich laugh echoed off the walls of his trailer. He laid on the bed casually, one arm slung beneath his head making his tight t-shirt ride up slightly. Just a peek of his happy trail was on display, which you tried, and failed, not to stare at. 
It was proving difficult, especially since you sat criss-cross apple sauce on his floor. His body was eye level, handcuff belt shining softly in the low light. The glint of that drew your eyes even lower, concentrating on the bulge you could see in his jeans.
You thought you were being sneaky. You absolutely were not. 
“Hey, sweetheart, you gonna answer me or just stare at my dick?” 
“Huh?” 
Shaking your head as if to clear it, you finally met his gaze. 
“I said, you can come lay up here if you want.” 
Halfway between getting up and still in a weird little crouch his words finally filtered through your addled brain. 
“I wasn't staring at your dick!” 
“Whatever you say, baby girl.” 
Frozen, mind empty of comebacks, you clambered out of your goblin stance and stood up, when the blood decided to rush to your head. 
“Oh Holy shit.” 
Your knees buckled, and you would have ended up face first on Eddie's carpet if he hadn't caught you. 
“Easy there, I've got you.” 
Eddie's firm hands held your upper arms tightly as he manoeuvred you to sit on his bed. The room was spinning, everything was drifting out of focus. 
“I need to lie down.” 
Eddie pulled you towards his pillows and laid you down gently, picking your legs up and settling them on the bed with you. Staring up at his off white ceiling, things began to drift back in. Once the room finally stopped swooping around in your vision, you started to come to your senses. 
You are on Eddie Munson's bed. You knew him, sure, only in a ‘can I come round so you can smoke us out and listen to music’ kind of way. You'd hardly call him a friend. This though, feeling the heat of his body next to you, him leaning on his side staring at you worriedly seemed entirely outside of your current arrangement. 
Suddenly the air was stifling, Eddie's warmth only exacerbating the matter. 
“You alright?” 
“Yeah, just really warm. And fucking high.” 
Eddie laughed, relieved.
“Thank fuck, I was scared for a minute.” 
You fumbled at the hem of your oversized sweater, attempting to wriggle it up your body but all motor skills were beyond you right now. 
“Eddie.” You pouted at him, flapping the edge of your sweater with frustrated hands. 
“You want this off?” 
“Please.” 
He flashed you a mischievous grin and pulled up upright, beginning to draw the offensive sweater up and over your form. 
“Didn't think you'd be begging me to undress you sweetheart.” 
Rolling your eyes in response, you held your arms over your head like a petulant toddler. Sweater removed and tossed to the foot of the bed, you risked a glance at Eddie. He was entirely preoccupied, staring at your bare midriff that was now on display. 
“It's a crop top Eddie, get over it.” 
Flinging yourself back down on the pillow, Eddie coughed, looking a little flustered, and settled in next to you. 
“Sorry, I didn't expect it. You always wear baggy shit.” 
“Comfortable shit, thank you. I come here to smoke, it's not New York fashion week.”
Eddie ran a finger across you, just below your belly button. The barely there touch blazed across your skin. 
“I didn't know you had your belly button pierced.” 
Looking down, you watch as his fingers circle it, then flick the little jewel dangling off the end. Thighs clamping together out of sheer necessity, you attempt to ignore it. 
“Yeah, got it done when I was like 15, two towns over. Probably my least painful piercing. Apart from ears, of course.”
Apparently, Rick's new strain also makes you run your mouth, as well as being insanely warm and horny. It seemed you had captured Eddie's attention. He turned further towards you, one hand holding his head up. The other, much to your relief, stayed on your stomach. You're not sure he was even aware he was still stroking your skin. 
“Least painful? What other piercings do you have?” 
You seriously considered dodging the question, but it's difficult to be devious directly to those big wet eyes of his. It's like trying to lie to a baby cow. 
“Well, I got my nose done, but the piercing fell out and I didn't bother to get a new one. That one stung. But the worst had to be my… my nipples.” 
The whole bed lurched as Eddie jumped up and sat cross legged facing you. He practically flew into action, grabbing his cigarettes and a lighter as if you were about to tell him some epic tale. 
“Right, tell me everything.” 
Whilst laughing at his wide eyed expression, you realise he's being completely serious. 
“Well, they er, they like, sanitise the… area, draw a dot where they're going to pierce you and tell you to take a deep breath in and it's done. It's super quick actually. It's more the after part that hurts. Why are you interested?” 
Eddie pushes his hair behind one ear, the tip of it is glowing scarlet, you notice. 
“I was thinking about getting it done my last birthday but I didn't have the cash.” 
He's staring at you, nervously chewing on a hang nail. You can practically see the unasked question dancing on his tongue. You weren't going to offer, hell no. If he wants to see he has to ask. The thing is, the way your tummy is bubbling right now, you don't think you could say no to those eyes of his. 
The question remains unsaid. He merely offers you a drag on his cigarette which you take gratefully, before he's stubbing it out and laying back down next to you. 
“How you feeling now? Bit less baked?” 
“Oh I'm still fucked, but I can see straight and I don't feel sick.” 
His fingers begin their dance again, skating over your exposed flesh, stroking down your side to your hip, across your stomach, and back again. You want to mention it. He's never touched you like this before, but you also don't want him to stop. 
“Good. Not inviting you over again if you hurl on my bed.” 
Giggling, you turn and face him. You're both on your sides now, knees close to knocking. His shirts ridden up again and before you can even register what you're doing you've placed a delicate hand on his hip. His eyes widened briefly, but that's it. Both of you are touching the others bare flesh, whispers of touches. Little, tentative things, like the bursting of soap bubbles on skin. 
“I wouldn't hurl on your bed. I'm sure I'd at least make it to the bathroom. I'm not an animal.” 
Eddie just grins in response, and you look at each other, really look. His dopey smile is the same as yours, and it seems neither of you want to mention how this seems to be rolling into very unfamiliar territory. 
“Eddie?” 
“Hmm?” 
“Why are you touching me?” 
He pushes infinitesimally closer, his knee now slotting between yours. It's a small gesture, but suddenly the situation feels even more intimate than before. 
“Because. Because it feels good. You're soft, and warm. And you keep making little noises.” 
“I do?” 
He smooths his hand higher, thumb dragging along the underside of your breast, and you let out a tiny, quivering whimper.
“See? Like that.” 
Opening your legs slightly wider, Eddie's knee pushes naturally further forward, his thigh now wedged between yours. His breath is fanning your nose; cigarettes, weed, and sweet snacks. 
“So sweetheart, why are you touching me?” 
Your hand presses a little more firmly, snaking underneath the hem of his shirt. With no complaint forthcoming, you reach further up, stroking his side, up over his ribs, and back down again. He responds in kind. Every kiss of fingers is electrifying, filling the room with a soft, dense tension. 
“Because it feels good. Because I saw a bit of skin and I couldn't resist.” 
“Yeah?” He's smirking as he says it, but you're beyond playing games at this point. 
“Yeah.” 
“I didn't know I was irresistible.”
You pinch his skin a little and he stares at you like you just betrayed him. 
“I didn't say that, you're twisting my words.” 
“Pretty sure I heard-” 
Cutting him off with a tickle to the ribs, he grabs your hand to stop you. 
“OK, OK! You were right, I was wrong. Nice touches again please.” 
His hand swiftly makes its way back to your skin and you continue to stroke him. 
“Nice touches?” 
“Yeah, it feels really good.” 
Running your hand up, you graze his nipple, and then bring it back down, down, until you reach the top of his jeans. You graze a finger, just one, under them, sweeping across his tensing abs. Then, you move up to more innocent flesh. 
“Jesus Christ.” 
Eddie's chest is heaving, fingers pressing indents into your flesh. 
“Nice enough?” you're the one smirking this time, pleased at the effect you're having on him. 
“Yeah.” 
It's barely a word, more of a breath. You scoot closer toward him, just a couple of inches, but it's close enough to feel his thigh start to press against your heat. Gasping at the pressure, you rub subtly against his thigh to try and relieve your mounting feelings, no matter how slightly. 
Eddie's hand starts making a trembling journey up your form, fingers twisting underneath your top. Feeling the underside of your bare breast, you both gasp. Eddie undoubtedly because you weren't wearing a bra, you because, well, the obvious. The slightest graze had your nipple hardening instantly, hips rocking forward without your control. 
“Is this OK?” 
“Yeah. Please.” 
Fingers stretching further, Eddie finally brushes your nipple. The feeling is magnified by your piercing; they've felt more sensitive since you got them done.
The moan that escapes is louder than you meant but it couldn't be helped. This simple touch is igniting through your nerves and rushing to your high brain. 
“Shit, they are pierced.” 
It seems to be a thought that Eddie said out loud by accident as he rubs his fingers over your ruddy nipple, slowly circling the silver balls of the jewellery. 
Another moan breaks from you, even louder this time.
“Fuuuuck Eddie.” 
“Yeah?” 
His touches become firmer, rubbing your nipple between thumb and forefinger, mapping the way your face scrunches up with his eyes.
“Yeah, jeez. They're really sensitive.” 
Practically panting in each other's mouths, your noses rub together. 
“Can- can I kiss you?” 
His words are so hesitant that it makes you giggle. Pressing your lips in a swift kiss to his full bottom lip, you respond. 
“I'd be mad if you didn't.” 
Eddie wastes no more time, pressing a hot open mouthed kiss to you that you reciprocate in kind. You keep it slow, leisurely traversing new territory with soft, exploring tongues. Naturally your arms encircle him, pulling him closer, closer. His arm snakes around your back as your bodies press together, like puzzle pieces slotting together and finding their perfect match. Eventually you break away to take a gasping breath as Eddie presses kisses to your collarbone.
“I don't know why we waited so long to do that.” 
“We? I thought you just wanted me for free drugs!” 
You giggled loudly at that, so loud it came out as a snort, but it didn't matter. The moment was so honest that being cool had nothing to do with it. You were bare, in a way, and so was he. 
Eddie chuckled with you as he slowly but surely pushed you onto your back, slipping both of his legs between yours. Pushing your hips up, you feel his hardness graze your pubic bone. 
“Eddie?” 
He hums a response, lips and tongue busy loving on your neck. You tug at the hem of your top and pull upwards. Eddie gets the message, moving out of the way briefly so you can strip it off. 
There you are, bare chested in front of him. You'd be nervous, if you hadn't seen the longing in his eyes. He's kneeling, one arm leaning on the mattress whilst the other compulsively strokes your side. 
“Jesus Christ your tits are perfect.” 
The moment stretches just a little too long for comfort; you're a hair's breadth away from crossing your arms over your chest when Eddie leans down and runs his tongue around and around one nipple. Mewling pathetically, you lace your fingers in Eddie's soft waves and tug. In response his teeth graze you as he sucks softly; then he gives the other just as much attention. 
Shuddering and wriggling under him, you can't do anything but whine, your hips undulating upwards to chase some friction, some release, anything. 
“Eddie, please, I need you.” 
“Umph,” He responds, muffled by your chest, “I need you to say that again.” 
“Eddie I swear to God if you don't- ” 
He laughs, cutting off your sentence. 
“Alright baby girl, I got you.” 
Working his way down your front, he takes his time planting soft kisses, making you writhe at each touch of his lips, until he reaches your shorts. 
Flicking the button open, he slowly drags the zip down and finds the little sliver of red panties poking out. 
“Hearts? Cute.” 
Thick fingers plunge into your clothes and pull them away, flinging your shorts and panties across the room into the void that was Eddie's carpet. 
Insecurity finally gripped its claws into you. What if he didn't like what you looked like down there, smelled like, tasted like? 
A moment of unadulterated panic, and then Eddie licked his tongue, slowly yet firmly, between your lips and all the way up. Barging your thighs further apart with his shoulders, he rooted your clit out with his tongue, running dizzying circles and sucking at it desperately. 
Eddie's moans rivalled your own, such neediness etched in you swear his fingerprints will be left on the outside of your thighs like tattoos, simply from the force he held you with. Barely able to shake, you compensated by pulling his hair and guiding his tongue exactly where you needed it. 
He pushed a thick calloused finger into you slowly, looking up at you as he did so. You back arched off the bed. He felt around, staring at you with such intensity you that you were seconds away from telling him to quit staring when-
“Oh God, oh fuck!” 
Eddie smirked, sliding another finger in gently to join the first, and worked your clit between his lips. He incessantly stroked a spot inside that you'd never reach on your own, a firm, beckoning gesture as if he were willing your orgasm to come hither. 
It was working. Your insides tingle, a tightness pulling straight from your gut and shooting out to your fingers and toes. Beyond control by this point, your hand pulls his hair tightly. To your amazement, his other hand reaches out to you, seeking, and you lace your fingers in his own. 
As soon as your digits touched, you were gone. Your release plummets out of you, shaking through every bone you have, leaving you a twitching puddle of a woman. His fingers chase after it, dragging every inch of squelching pleasure out of your insides until you're tugging him away and begging for it to stop. 
As he moved back up your body, licking and sucking as he did so, you tried to think of an answer to the smug grin he was just about to flash at you. 
There was none. Brain unravelled, threads wound into your nerves instead of your thoughts, you laid there, ruminating on how he'd made you come faster than any other man.
Eddie hovered over you, nose nudging your own. He must have wiped his mouth at some point whilst you were in la la land. 
“Hey pretty girl.”
“Eddie, you're really fuckin’ good at that.”
“I know.”
You laugh, tapping his side.
“Cocky.”
“Confident.”
Before you can retort his mouth is back on you, peppering kisses to your jaw, as his solid member presses into your naked heat.
“Fuck Eddie, please, please please-”
“Please what baby girl?” He asks, then sucks a hickey on your neck. 
Pulling him towards you by his shirt collar, you bite down sharply on his earlobe, pulling a little groan from his chest.
“I want you to stuff me full Eddie. I'm- I'm on birth control. Fill me up.” 
You can practically feel Eddie's eyes roll to the back of his head.
“Fuck, you can't just say that, I nearly busted in my pants!” 
Pulling himself off you for the shortest time he could, he peels his t-shirt over his head and flops back on top of you. Desperate kisses and urgent gropes spill from you both; grinding, needy things that tore at clothes and grasped at flesh. 
After fiddling and failing with his belt, you huff and tug harshly at his waistband. He chuckles, biting at your bottom lip as he unlatches it with ease and then wriggles his pants and boxers down his legs with urgency. 
More desperate grasps, teeth and tongues clashing violently, your hand reaching down to clutch at his- 
“Holy hell!” 
His eyes widen, hands coming to a halt, waiting for the rest of your sentence. You're too busy trying to glance down his front as he hovers over you, your fist firmly stroking his hardened cock.
“You're huge Eddie!” 
He smirks and thrusts into your hand, the velvet smoothness of his dick massaged  by your palm. 
“Bet you say that to all the guys.”
“Er, no, Rick's made some truth serum or some shit because that's the biggest I've ever felt.” 
You guide him firmly towards your entrance, dragging the tip of his enlarged cock through your slickened folds. He quivers over you, arms thick with tension. 
“Baby girl just, just slip it inside, please-” 
“Now who's begging?” 
Grinning mischievously, you wait for him to start forming an answer with his mouth when you slip the head inside your sopping opening. His open mouth turns into a long drawn out moan. 
You would tease him if the feeling of him splitting you open wasn't all consuming. Which it fucking is. He just keeps pushing, and pushing, until his chest is flush with yours and he's mumbling platitudes in your ear. 
“Doing so good for me. Such a naughty, naughty girl. Getting filled up by her drug dealer? Baby girls a little dirty, isn't she?”
You're trying not to let him know how much his words affect you, but the fluttering of your satin like walls tells a different story. 
“You're not my dealer.” 
“Oh really? I'm not?” 
Pulling out nearly all the way and pushing back in, you bite your lip at the drag against your insides.
“Dealer implies I buy shit. You just give it to me, like a little simp.”
Eddie's mouth drops open in mock outrage.
“You want me to give it to you now? I'll fucking give it to you baby.” 
Hooking an arm under your thigh, Eddie thrusts into you hard and devastatingly deep. And again, and again, until you start moaning wantonly right in his face, all bravado forgotten.
“Yeah? Atta girl. That good baby? Wanna feel me right here?” 
His other hand pushes against your lower stomach, the pressure deepening the pleasure he's giving you tenfold. 
“Oh Eddie, oh fuckfuckfuck!!” 
Your release explodes out of your cunt with a gush, liquid spurting out of you so hard you nearly force his impressive length out. It waves drastically, like the sea against the shore, washing and washing over you until it's hard to breathe. 
“Baby, baby! Holy shit, I think you squirted.” 
“Ya think? My God, that was… mind blowing.” 
“Yeah?” 
Looking up at him, you expect that arrogant grin, but he just looks pleased and innocent. Like a kid at Christmas. 
“Yeah, fuck yeah.”
Rolling him over with all the power left in your thighs, you pin him down and move firmly into him, ferality taking over your actions. 
“Jesus Christ, you are a dirty girl, aren't you?” 
“Maybe just a little.” 
Smirking, you hump against him, your swollen clit bumping against his pubic bone on each delicious pass. 
“Holy shit, I'm not complaining- fuck, what the- what are you doing? Jesus Christ!” 
You bounce hard on him. Seeing him writhe under you is a special kind of power, one you aren't willing to let go of. Ever.
“Fuck, b-baby girl, you're gonna make me come!” 
His intense moans spur you on further. Unable to bounce so much on shaky knees you snuggle down close to him, arms clutching his shoulders, as you grind into him. It's massaging sensations into your clit, as well as teasing your g spot with his imposing length. 
“I can't, I’m-  baby girl-” 
“I'm gonna come, Eddie please, fill me up, I wanna feel it, I wanna feel your cum inside me, please, fuckin’ breed me Eddie. Oh fuck!” 
Quivering against him uncontrollably, your legs give out, collapsing on his body as he tenses and releases inside of you. It spurs your own orgasm, snaking up your spine and gripping on your system like a fly caught in honey. An open mouthed scream is all you give him, silent but chock full of feeling, as your back arches in its own tension. 
As it curls out of you, your back gives up, and you flop forward, bones turned to pudding. 
“Well.” is all that comes out, a puff of a word, just air escaping from a collapsing chest.
“Well.” Eddie responds, waiting for what you're about to say. 
You're sure he doesn't expect it. A laugh bubbles out; a weird, inside laugh, that you probably should never share with anyone. But it keeps coming. And coming. Laughing uncontrollably, you roll off of him and try to get your stomach muscles in check. 
You'd be worried about his reaction, if he wasn't laughing with you. It was this odd mixture of tension and relief that was bursting in the air, a barrier broken and left crumbling at your feet. 
“Eddie. Fuck, Eddie.” 
“Yeah?”
‘Yeah.”
His heated hand found yours, and squeezed your fingers hard. For some reason, it felt more intimate than all of this combined. 
Giggling again, you lean into his chest, fingers dipping up to weave into his hair. 
“Baby girl, you can't just-” 
“What? Pull your hair? Because you like it?” 
Tugging on his hair dramatically, Eddie tosses his head back and groans. 
“Knew it.”
“Yeah, yeah, certified genius. It's like you don't wanna be railed again.” 
Huffing, you pull yourself on top of him again, hardened nipples brushing softly against his flesh. 
“Oh, I think I'll be the one railing you. You wanna make a bet, for next time?” 
Smug grin forgotten, Eddie stares at you in disbelief.
“Next time?” 
“Well, I hope so. Got to be the best I've ever had.” 
Stupid Rick and his stupid strain. 
“Best you've ever had?” 
“Fuck you.” 
“Only if you wanna.” 
The teasing stopped. At least for now. It was pretty clear, your need for each other was outranking any goading you'd been sharing. 
At least for now… 
Taglist (Some permanents, some likely candidates, if you want to be added, jus say the word sweetheart)
@eddiesprincess86 @zestychili @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @roanniom @usedtobecooler @josephquinnsfreckles @mrsjellymunson
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mwahmimi · 6 months
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Breeding kink. Eddie Munson x reader. Smut. Blurb.
🍓 “Your breeding kink is actually super cute.” Eddie coos, looking at you like he just said the most normal sentence in the world. “It’s not just that you want me to knock you up, to me it says that you want forever with me, and our family.” He smiles and you blush in retaliation, the heat rising to your cheeks and over your nose in the shade of pink he loves so much. Somewhat whimpering as you nod your head in agreement, you whisper “I do Eddie. Want you forever.”
It’s Eddie’s turn to blush now as he’s overcome with verbal affection, but he doesn’t let it take over him.
“That what you want huh? Me to fill you up so good that you become pregnant with little Eddies?” He smirks, leaning against the wall pinning you between it and himself. “Your little belly will grow so big and I’ll help with everything, every step of the way. Rub that special oil on your stretch marks. Cook dinners that are so healthy and good for you and the baby. I’ll work extra shifts at the garage, anything. For you.” He kisses up your arm, stopping at your neck to nip at it gently.
“Time for us to stop using birth control huh?” You giggle, tilting your head to allow Eddie more access to your neck.
“No need for those condoms princess, not while you want me to fill that pretty little pussy up with my cum. That’s what you want isn’t it? Breed that little body up and make us mommy and daddy?”
He lifts you up by your thighs, plopping you on the bed as you rush to unbuckle his belt whilst he unclips your bra. Undressing each other like there’s a time limit to your intimacy.
“Gonna make you feel so good Eds.” You whisper with your lips kissing down his already erect cock. He grunts and pushes you onto the bed and begins to ravage between your thighs. Circling over your clit with his tongue, taking no time to tease. He wants you here, now. Eddie takes his fingers and dances them around your entrance before pumping them in and out of you at the pace that makes your back arch like a cat.
“That good enough for you angel? Or do you want something bigger in that slutty little hole?” You nod enthusiastically, pulling him closer into you with your feet wrapped around his waist.
He thrusts into you, slowly at first but picking up the pace, motivated by your moans. Your fingers get lost in his curls, tugging at them harshly which only makes him fuck you harder. His mouth finds your neck, leaving heart shaped bruises on your skin. He kisses down to your breast, sucking on your nipples and dragging his tongue over them.
“Close Eds..” Whimpering as you come undone on his cock, squirting your juices onto his length leaving droplets on his happy trail hair. His orgasm is not far behind your own. “Gonna fill you up, gonna’ fuck a baby into you” He grunts, spurting his warm cum deep into your pussy, you arch your back in overstimulation as he fucks you through the aftershocks without every slowing the pace of his thrusts.
You both collapse on the bed, completely fucked out in bliss. “Think we need to get a pregnancy test in the next few weeks love.” Eddie chuckles, his chest bopping up and down through his laughter. You sigh in content, wondering how you got so lucky, you can’t wait to make this man a daddy. 🍓
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cherrycolored-punk · 18 days
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still frames - bestfriend! e.m. x fem! reader
author’s note: reminiscing about the friend I had in high school, the one who I’d create playlists with and who’d call to play his guitar for me every night. and you can’t tell me that Eddie isn’t the same type of dude. the sweet bits are based on the reminiscing. the rest is pure fiction with our favorite goof. anyways, enjoy!🧡
w/c: 5k
warnings: angst, pining, smut (oral - reader receiving, protected p in v), spanking, teasing, uhhhh let me know if I forgot anything
‼️ THIS IS AN 18+ BLOG, MINORS DNI ‼️
Raindrops race down your living room window in lines, and you watch them from your spot on the floor. It’s fall, and the lush greens of summer have begun to change color; their leaves now varying hues of orange and yellow. They create a coziness in your apartment, a warmth that feels like it envelops you and is amplified by the scent of your favorite candle; crisp apple, nectar, and warm clove spice fill your lungs with each breath you take.
Eddie lays beside you on his stomach, focusing on his phone and the playlist you created for him.
The playlists were a tradition since middle-school, a way to introduce each other to a new sound or a band the other might not have heard of. For some time, though, you’d been using it to send cryptic messages, and he hadn’t caught on. 
Your crush on Eddie came suddenly but was felt all at once. 
It was a spring morning nearly two years ago, and you’d laid dying in bed, except not really. You just had the flu, but you felt close to death and had texted him as much.
Eddie: what do you need?
You: hit me with your van, stab me in the face…please end my suffering.
He, of course, didn’t grant your wish, but he’d shown up at your apartment after work with a grocery bag full of supplies. Eddie was still wearing his navy coveralls covered in oil and smelled like grease. From what you could smell, anyway. You could barely breathe through your nose.
“I got you theraflu tea, and I don’t want to hear you complain about the taste. You just need to drink it,” he scolded before you could even complain. 
Your jaw snapped shut.
“Also got your favorite soup, four cans,” he held his fingers up, “orange juice, Vicks, popsicles in case your throat hurts, those saltines you like, and,” he turned, “I brought Scream for us to watch since I know it’s your favorite.”
It hit you like a ton of bricks, made your heart stutter, and nearly stop. 
It was the way he was smiling, the familiar excited gleam in his eye as he looked at you. It was the fact that he’d shown up after a twelve-hour shift with all your favorite sick foods in tow. 
Your eyes traced over his face like you were seeing him for the first time. The sharp edge of his jaw, the plump of his lips, the freckles that dotted the slope of his nose, and when did Eddie become so beautiful?
You’d tried blaming it on the fact that less oxygen was getting to your brain and a virus was wrecking your immune system, but now you didn’t have the same excuse. Now you couldn’t look at Eddie without noticing the pinks of his cheeks or the different smiles he had. Couldn’t be around him without yearning to hug him or hold him in a way that didn’t scream just friends.
The past year and a half had been overwhelming, the yearning making you feel hollow. Like if you didn’t say something, it would continue to eat you alive, but telling him ran the risk of ruining the friendship and that was a fate worse than being alone.
You glance over to the playlist he’s listening to, at the song playing, and clench your eyes shut.
Despite the music in your ears, you can hear the song reverberating off the walls of your skull. The one you heard that made you think of him. It plays in your head, having memorized every lyric and the way the singer’s voice influxes with certain words.
Bet you never knew it
Think you’d suit me just fine
And you know he’ll never get it, never know you’re hopelessly in love with him.
You close your eyes and focus on the song, one he chose specifically for you. 
Good Riddance plays soft, a break from the heavy metal he always added but not a song you hadn’t heard before. It brings a sense of nostalgia in the form of a lump in your throat, and you swallow hard, images of high school flashing through your mind like a retro view-master. It feels like yesterday and another lifetime all at once. The plays you were in, the various games you cheered at, going to Corroded Coffin’s shows, staying over at Eddie’s house, the first time he’d convinced you to join a campaign…the face of “I told you so” when you told him you had actually enjoyed it.
Eddie pulls the earbud from your ear, auburn hair tickling you where it meets your bare shoulder and interrupting your reminiscing. You turn to him, curious eyes meeting his steady gaze. 
“What is it?” you question with a quirk of your brow, unable to decipher the expression that colored his features. 
“Curious choice of songs here,” his voice carries a teasing lilt as he turns onto his side, facing you. 
You could feel his gaze on you, searching your features for the answer to a question he hadn’t asked yet. 
“How do you figure?” you turn, matching his pose, and rest your chin on your palm.
Eddie thought for a moment, his eyes turning up and to the left as he searched for the words. 
He looks handsome as ever, pale skin glowing from the light of your candle. Cinnamon eyes lit with a hint of mischief and something you couldn’t name. 
His eyes shift down and meet yours, a broad dimpled smile slotting into place. 
“Something tells me you have a crush on someone,” and your heart practically drops into your ass at his words.
“A crush?” You ask, half-laughing at his accusation in an attempt not to vomit.
“Oh, don’t play coy. Every song on here drones on about love,” he points to his phone, his eyebrows pushed into his bangs. 
“They’re just good songs, Edward,” you shove his head and lay flat on your back, but he follows your movements, hovering over you. Close enough that you can smell the spearmint of his gum and the cologne he wears; musk and smoked suede. It makes your mouth water, his proximity making your heart lurch in your ribcage. 
“I never said they weren’t good, Princess.” 
Your hand reaches out to push his face away at the nickname, but he catches your wrist in his grasp, a cocky smile spreading wide on his lips. 
“What happened to us not questioning the playlist, Munson? Isn’t that rule number one since day one?” You attempt to fight your wrist out of his grasp, but it remains firm. 
“Let go,” you grumble, and he shakes his head.
“Not until you tell me,” he counters.
“Tell you what?” you stop fighting, and your arm falls back near your head, his fingers still wrapped around it as though he were pinning you there. 
“Who is it?” he shrugs, but you don’t miss how his adam’s apple bobs as he asks. 
You wonder if Eddie can hear how your heart hammers, your senses overwhelmed by his sudden inquisition. 
“There isn’t anyone,” but your gaze turns from him, and he knows you’re lying. 
“Not good enough,” he shakes his head.
“Why does it matter?”
“Because I need to know,” you look back at him. The need you’d felt for the past year reflected in his gaze.
Time slows.
“Why?” your voice is softer, barely above a whisper. Breath held as you wait for his answer. 
He lets go of your wrist and settles back at your side, reaching for his phone as you watch him. The anticipation of his response pushing you closer to cardiac arrest. 
Eddie pulls out your other earbud and places one of his own in your ear. 
I Want You plays, and you recognize the familiar sound of Mitski’s voice. One that is full of yearning and a palpable sorrow. You look at him with a curious upturn of your brow, a silent question, and he turns the screen of his phone towards you. 
It’s a new playlist, one you hadn’t seen, and it bears a simple title: your name. 
A million thoughts race through your head, but you can’t find the words or the right question. 
“Mitski?” You decide to tease, your cheeks warm as the feelings rush through you. The realization that maybe, just maybe, he loved you too. 
“Shut up,” he grumbles, but it’s full of affection, and his face leans closer—his gaze darts between your eyes and the swell of your lips. 
Your mouth parts in anticipation, eyes fluttering shut as your head lifts to meet him halfway. 
A small gasp escapes your lips at the first contact, his lips softer than you’d ever imagined. Slotting perfectly together with yours. He tasted like the gum he chewed and the soda he’d had; sweeter than you thought he’d be.
Eddie’s hand cups your face, gently holding your jaw as his thumb rubs the apple of your cheek. Holding you almost reverently. 
The kiss deepens as he pulls you on top of him, his tongue tracing the curve of your bottom lip, asking for permission. Your tongue swipes against his in response, and you swallow the moan he feeds you - fingers tangling in the fabric of his black t-shirt as he holds you to him. 
His large hand wanders down your back and over the curve of your ass, gripping the dough of it. You can’t help the circle of your hips as you grind against his thigh. Chasing the friction you so desperately need. 
Your lungs begin to ache as the kiss deepens, desperate for oxygen but more so for his touch, and you roll over, pulling his weight on top of you. Enjoying the feel of his body pressed into yours, and his knee slotted between your legs. 
Eddie pulls away, taking a deep breath to fill his burning lungs, and you chase his fleeting lips - eyes still closed. He chuckles, rubbing your cheek affectionately - memorizing the softness of your skin and the warmth of your body underneath him.
You breathe in deeply, gaze finally meeting his, and the first thing you notice is the flush of his cheeks. Then the way his brown eyes are almost obsidian; darkened with need. His nose brushes yours as he leans in for another kiss, just as soft as the first but quick so he can look at you again. 
“Are you finally going to tell me who it is?” He questions, lips hovering over your jaw, and you can barely breathe. Anticipating his touch. 
You shrug your shoulder, not ready to admit to defeat. 
“Couldn’t tell you, just some guy,” you play with the collar of his shirt, acting aloof. 
“Just some guy,” he repeats with a shake of his head, pressing a kiss to the space between your jaw and your ear. 
Your breath comes out shaky, and you can only nod.
“Was hoping it was me, Princess,” he kisses down your neck causing goosebumps to sprout along your arms.
His lips press against the skin of your shoulder, pushing at the strap of your dress with his mouth to nudge it out of the way. 
The curve of his lips is a whisper above your skin, his head dipping down and tracing the tops of your breasts. You arch into his touch, desperate to feel his mouth over every inch of your body. 
He stops abruptly, his head lifting back to hover over yours with a mocking grin. Enjoying how he already affects you, the way you whine when you don’t get what you want. 
“As if you don’t know the answer,” you gruff, and he leans in, shaking his head. 
“I want to hear you say it,” he whispers, face inches from yours—a dare. 
The stubborn part of you wants to deny it, wants to keep the secret close in case this was all in jest, but there’s another part that yearns to hear him say it too. To hear him say it back. For it to be more than a private playlist with your name attached.
“It’s you,” and you almost want to disappear. To sink into the floor or to be swallowed whole. Despite the kiss, despite the way his body presses closer to yours when he finally hears you say the quiet part out loud. Saying it out loud made it real, the threat of losing him as a friend more imminent. 
But his mouth is back on yours, more fervent than before. His hand traces up your thigh and grips the soft flesh. Pressing himself against you. 
You kiss him back with just as much need, an eager hand pushing at the hem of his shirt until you feel his skin. The curve of your nails drags lightly down his abdomen, stopping just above his belt. Enjoying the way the coarse hairs that lead into his pants feels against your fingers. Your other hand curls in his hair, holding his face to yours. 
Eddie shudders at the sensation, a small gasp spilling from his lips as they leave yours. You look at him through hooded eyes, a slight grin slotting into place when you notice his flushed cheeks and hair slightly disheveled. 
Energy thrums through you, making your heart pound. God, you want to make him gasp like that again.
“Was that so hard?” He questions, his expression a little cocky despite his breathlessness, and if you weren’t so eager to kiss him again you might just push his face from yours. 
“Shut up,” you say affectionately and kiss him again. 
Soft, sweet. Relishing in the feel of his lips until it isn’t enough. Until the carnal hunger can’t be ignored. 
Your tongue swipes against his lower lip, and you suck it between your own. Swallowing his low moan. The palm of your hand trails lower, small fingers wrapping around his handcuff belt. Breath caught in your throat until it makes your lungs burn, and you pull away. 
Eddie watches you, your slow, languid movements causing him to hold his breath in anticipation. His long, callused fingers push up, up, up until you feel them beneath your panties, matching your pace, creating a line of fire wherever they meet your skin. 
His belt falls open with a rumble of metal, and he presses his forehead to yours; hand gripping your ass, fingers spreading you apart, and edging closer to your center. 
Your palm rubs against his coarse pubic hairs as you slide your hand further into his boxers, a small gasp escaping your lips when your fingers rub against the warm length of his arousal. Eddie is bigger than you had imagined, and you’d spent plenty of time picturing him while in bed. Legs spread and fingers working you over the edge. But this is better than a daydream. 
His cock jumps against your palm as you wrap your fingers along his shaft, exploring the soft skin and the thick vein that lines his length. Your thumb brushes against his tip, collecting the pre-cum that leaks from it. 
Dark eyes watch as you remove your hand and bring your thumb to your mouth, tongue swirling against your digit before sucking it clean. 
A groan escapes Eddie’s lips, his jaw slack. Eyes hooded with need. 
His next movements are fast, quicker than your mind can keep up with.
He flips you onto your stomach, mouth racing down your back eagerly; needy hands pushing the fabric of your dress up until your ass is exposed. 
“This okay,” he questions, fingers hooked on the lace of your panties, and you whine, ass wiggling eagerly beneath him in response. He slaps the fat of it, a cocky laugh falling from his lips, but he wastes no time.
Eddie tosses your panties over his head absently; gaze focused on the swell of your butt. He hooks an arm around your waist and drags you up on all fours until you’re bared to him. His hands are on your ass like an anchor as he dips his head closer. 
The scruff of his beard scrapes against your soft skin, his warm breath felt against your spine. Each kiss is slow and deliberate, felt in your core as his lips trail down the small of your back and over the valley of your ass. He grips your cheeks and spreads them, revealing the rim of your ass and your glistening cunt. 
“So fucking pretty,” and he practically whimpers at the sight, grabbing his cock to adjust the strain against his jeans. 
He traces his middle finger over your slit and to your bundle of nerves, creating a circle around the bud; a sensation that makes your hips jolt, a soft moan escaping your lips. 
You breathe in sharply when you feel the nudge of his nose against your sex, his tongue swiping along your folds. Savoring the way you taste. 
He teases you, tongue flicking against your clit before swiping towards your aching center and stretching you over his tongue. A guttural moan escapes your lips, your nails digging into the plush of your carpet at the sensation. 
Eddie buries his face deeper, pushing his tongue further into you with a groan that vibrates through you. 
“Oh my god,” you keen, reaching behind and knotting your hands into his hair. You grind against his face, eyes rolling as his tongue darts in and out of your sopping cunt. Fingers pressing into your clit. 
“Fuck,” he moans, voice gruff. 
His tongue laps at your arousal, middle finger prodding your entrance. You release his head, bracing against the carpet. He stretches you inch by inch before adding another, his digits curling inside you. Slowly, he begins to pump them into you, hitting a spot that makes your breath catch in your throat. You clench around him, the orgasm already building.
“Eddie,” you whine, spurring his movements to quicken. For his mouth to wrap around your clit and flick his tongue against it, eager for you to come undone.
You ride his fingers, desperate for the release and out of your mind with need. Body humming, warmed over from the intensity of your arousal.
“Gonna come for me, Princess?” 
You nod your head, pushing your pussy back against him. Desperate for his tongue on your sensitive bud. 
“S-so close,” you stammer. 
Every muscle in your body tenses, and you bury your face in the carpet as the feeling crashes over you. For a moment, you can’t breathe. The moan trapped in your throat and eyes clenched shut until, finally, your center unfurls. 
Your cunt flutters around Eddie’s fingers, and you moan his name as your legs begin to shake, but he doesn’t stop. He continues to pump his fingers into you, groaning at the noise it makes and the way your pussy grips him. His tongue flicks wildly against your clit, eliciting a loud groan to escape from your lips. Your legs shake more intensely as tears spring to your eyes. Bordering overstimulation. 
“Eddie, Eddie, Eddie,” you beg, and suddenly, he pulls his fingers from you. Fat tongue dragging against your wet heat and savoring every drop of your essence. 
He slaps your ass once. Twice. Leaving kisses where his hands were before and trailing them up your back, pushing the fabric of your dress up with him until he pushes it off entirely. 
He’s bent over you, torso pressed to your back. Hard arousal pressed to your sopping center. Warm breath felt against your neck as he whispers.
“Sound so fucking pretty, want to hear you again. Want to watch you.” 
He presses closer to you so you can feel just how badly he wants you, and you shudder. You match his movements, pushing your ass back against him, turning to watch the way his eyes close and his jaw clenches. 
“Do you have a condom?” You whisper, and his eyes open abruptly, searching yours.
“Y-yeah,” he stammers, nodding his head late as though his body was just catching up with his thoughts. 
But he doesn’t move, and it makes you feel shy. A little unsure of yourself. You squirm beneath him and flip over so that you’re face-to-face. 
“We don’t have to,” you rub an absent hand against his face, trying not to think about the fact that you were mostly naked and he was hovering inches from you, fully clothed. 
Eddie shakes his head and leans closer.
“I want to,” he says with more conviction and kisses your cheek, brushing his lips along your jaw. 
“You have no idea how bad I’ve wanted to,” he whispers against your neck. 
His tongue swipes along your neck and nips at your soft flesh. A free hand wanders down your side, creating goosebumps in their path. 
“Have you thought of me?” You ask, dragging a hand down his sternum to the top of his still-open jeans. Your voice is teasing, heavy with a flirtation he’d never heard before, and he nods. No longer cocky, hovering above you but entirely at your mercy. 
“What have you thought about?” You push your hand back into his boxers and begin to stroke him, jaw going slack as you watch his eyes flutter shut. 
Eddie groans, the fingers at your side digging into your skin.
“Y-you in my bed,” he stammers, mind occupied by the feeling of your hand wrapped around his dick. Your grip tightens around him, your grasp firm as you pump his cock faster.
“Is that it?” You whisper against his mouth, nipping at the pout of his bottom lip. He follows your mouth as you pull away, and he shakes his head.
“Thought about how good you’d look as I fuck you,” his words are a little breathless, but they cause your thighs to clench. 
The movement isn’t lost on him. It spurs him on, the familiar cocky grin slotting into place—a glint of mischief in his eye. 
“You’ve thought of it too, haven’t you?” His nose brushes yours, lips hovering over your mouth as he waits for your response.
The shudder that runs through your body gives you away, and you nod. Hand still pumping his cock.
Eddie kisses you more tenderly than you expected. His lips soft against your own, relishing the feel of you. 
“How often?” He questions, mouth still hovering over yours. Hand tracing down your thigh and up again.
You try to concentrate, hand still working him but your rhythm unsteady as you debate to tell him the truth. 
“Every day,” you stroke him again, “sometimes twice a day.”
His mouth crashes against yours, all teeth and tongue. Your hand reaches from his boxers and begins to push at his jeans. He helps you, one hand next to your head, holding his weight above you, and the other helping push his jeans until he kicks them off. Eddie sits up and tugs off his shirt, revealing the expanse of his torso—the dark lines against his alabaster skin. You trace your fingertips over them, lips pressing against his chest as he reaches behind you and unclasps your bra. Eddie tosses the fabric aside, eyes fixated on the curve of your tits. 
“Fucking hell,” his voice is low, appreciative, and he reaches out to trace his fingers along your newly exposed skin. Your back arches into his touch, watching his thumb roll against your nipple and pinch the sensitive flesh between his fingers. A moan falls from your lips, and your head rolls back, legs closing around him.
His head dips to your neck, and he kisses down your chest, over the slopes of your breasts. 
Eddie’s tongue flicks and sucks, pulling your nipple between his teeth. One hand gripping your hip and leading you back down until you’re lying beneath him.
He reaches for his jeans and grabs his wallet, pulling a condom out. 
You stop him before he can unwrap it, “Wait.”
“Are you okay?” He stops and watches you with worry.
“Can we,” you pause, “can we go to my room? To the bed?”  
“Afraid of a little carpet burn, Princess?” He teases, and you swat his bicep, pushing at his chest so you can move past him. 
“Shut up, Munson,” you push his face, but he grabs your hand, standing and pulling you along with him. 
You turn from him to walk to your room, and he slaps your ass, causing you to yelp as you run away from him, your giggles filling the apartment. Eddie chases you, hand reaching out to slap your butt cheeks every so often until you reach the room and suddenly turn to face him.
His chest crashes against yours, and your chuckle dies when you look at him again. The desire in his eyes, the blush that’d crept into his cheeks, and the state of his hair. You reach between your bodies and wrap your hand around his cock, pumping him as he leads you to the bed.
Your back plops against the soft mattress, and he drags your ass to the edge, legs spread wide for him. 
He unwraps the condom and rolls the rubber down his shaft, one thumb drawing circles against your clit. Gathering your slick. 
You pant as he works you up, whining when he stops, only to jolt when his wrapped length rubs against your slick folds. Your fingers wrap around his wrist as he inches into you, his eyebrows pushing together as your cunt wraps around his cock.
“Holy fuck,” he groans, gripping your hip with his free hand. 
Eddie is a stretch, but the feel of him pushing into you is delicious - every inch making your toes curl. 
“Oh,” you moan, and it’s all you can manage. Words turning to nonsense once he’s fully seated inside of you. 
He leans down and kisses you, lips hard against yours as his hips roll into you. His rhythm starts slow, pumping into you at a languid pace. Savoring the way you feel, the way your moans sound, and your naked chest feels pressed to his. 
His movements quicken, the snap of his hips growing louder as he juts into you. You pull away from his lips and dig your nails into his bicep. He presses his forehead to yours, eyes focused on where your bodies are connected. Watching the way your pussy sucks him in, clenches perfecting around his shaft, and the image of you draws him closer to the edge. 
Eddie pushes off the mattress, straightening your legs until they’re pressed against his torso, one foot resting on either side of his head. He has the perfect view of you; the bounce of your tits as he ruts into you, the way your mouth hangs open, and your eyes are entirely focused on him. 
He pounds his dick into you, one hand moving between your legs and drawing circles against your bud. 
“Eddie, ahh, oh fuck-” you grip his forearm as he continues to thrust every inch of his cock in and out of your sensitive cunt. 
“You like that, baby?” and you nod.
“Say it,” he groans, hips stuttering as he nears his pinnacle. 
“Feel so good, Eddie,” you moan, and the way you say his name makes him clench his jaw. Trying his best to maintain composure until you come.
“Going to come for me, sweetheart?” and it sounds like a demand. Your nails dig into his skin as you nod. 
Your eyes trace down his body, watching the movement of his hips and the way your ass reverberates with each movement. The image of him, the erotic sound of skin on skin, bringing you closer.
“Please,” you beg, back arching off the bed as you get closer. The rubber band at your center stretching thin and ready to snap.
Your legs fall from his shoulders and hook around his waist, pulling him closer. Deeper. Exactly where you need him. The tip of his cock nudges your spongy center, the orgasm building with each rock of his hips until it’s enough.
His name is on your lips like a prayer, vision white as the intensity of the orgasm pulses through you. 
“Baby,” he groans, the grip your pussy has on him causing his hips to stutter and the muscles in his abdomen to tighten as he reaches his peak. His hands grip your thighs, his dick twitching inside you as he spills into the condom.
You come down for your orgasm and watch him through hooded eyes—the flush of his pale skin, the sharp edge of his jaw.
So fucking pretty.
He releases his grip on your thighs and slowly inches out of you. 
You whine at the loss, already needy for more, and he gives you a cocky smirk. Eddie presses a quick kiss to your lips before disappearing down the hall, and you listen as the faucet squeaks, then off before he returns. 
He approaches you with a warm washcloth, and wipes your center before discarding it into your nearby hamper. 
You pull him forward, resting his weight against your body. For a moment, the two of you sit in silence. The only sound filling the room is your heavy breaths and the faint thrums of your hearts. 
“That was-,” and he can’t finish the sentence. Unable to find the right string of words.
Eddie pushes his weight off you, balancing on his hands and meeting your gaze. He leans closer, his nose tracing yours, and he kisses you softly—a hum vibrating against your lips when he releases your mouth.
“Decent,” you shrug and roll your eyes affectionately. Falling into your usual teasing.
“That was some of my best work, babe,” he gasps, feigning shock. Hand to his chest as he stands straight. 
Your heart skips at the nickname, but you try to hide it. Babe. 
“Guess you’ll have to show me again,” you shrug and push yourself further onto the bed. 
Eddie raises a devious brow and follows your movements, his body inching forward as yours inches back. 
“I can show you again,” he kisses you, “and again,” he kisses you once more, “as many times as it takes to convince you,” he promises.
661 notes · View notes
thinkinonsense · 20 days
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series:
magnetic- logan howlett
eat or be eaten- steve harrington
hozier mini-series- old man!logan howlett
positions mini-series- old man!logan howlett x housewife!reader
one-shots:
the boy is mine- logan howlett
i can see you- logan howlett
i knew you in another life- dp&w!logan howlett
fantasize- old!logan howlett
blush- logan howlett
juno- logan howlett
past life- dofp!logan howlett x future wife!reader
talk, talk - logan howlett
colors- old man!logan howlett
seven days- x2!logan howlett
blurbs:
dbf!logan who adores taking care of you
movie night with logan
first sleepover with worst!logan
dad!logan x teacher!reader
old!logan and his obsession with the cute diner girl
old!logan x young bold fem!reader
logan finds a way to help put his partner at ease.
dbf!logan breaks your heart part 2
bringing some vibrations into the bedroom with logan
mean!logan
tending to matt's wounds
404 notes · View notes
annwrites · 4 months
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you're stuck with me, baby.
— pairing: billy hargrove x fem!reader
— type: part of a series
— summary: billy treats you sweetly for once, but something is up. and then you have your absolute worst fight yet.
— tags: billy being a (manipulative) sweetheart. billy getting violent. billy being very sorry.
— tw: domestic violence
— word count: 3,105
— a/n: don't worry guys, i can fix him.
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By that night, you've nearly reached the Texas border. When you stop at a red light, Billy rolls his head back against the seat, looking at you, who's looking out the window, arms laid atop one another on the sill, taking in the neon lights all around you.
He reaches over then, sliding his large warm palm up your bare thigh.
Your head jerks in his direction. "What're you doing?"
He doesn't reply. Doesn't smirk or smile, or have so much as a twinkle in his eye. Instead, he just looks at you softly.
Your brows furrow, his hand sliding closer to your inner thigh, then stopping, thumb rubbing circles against your soft skin.
You look out the windshield. "The light's green."
You look back to him.
He just keeps looking at you.
And then the car behind you honks and he huffs, rolling his eyes, putting his hand back on the shifter as they lay on the horn yet again. "Yeah, yeah, I fuckin' heard you the first time."
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For dinner, Billy pulls into a small diner, and you both exit the car. He holds the door open for you and you pause, looking at him, surprised he didn't go ahead of you. "Thanks."
He gives you a small smile.
You feel like something is up, but don't want to ruin the moment—rather, him acting like an actual human being for once—so you say nothing of it.
You both take a booth by the window, looking over your menus after giving the waiter your drink orders—a lemonade for you and a Coke for him.
You begin perusing their dinner options when you feel Billy's foot brush against yours under the table, just like that afternoon.
You don't react. You're tired of taking the bait every single time. It was just that he knew exactly how to get to you somehow every time.
You set down your menu, knowing what you want, then look dreamily out the window. You smile to yourself and you don't notice it, but Billy is watching you with observant eyes.
You're too lost in your thoughts to take note of him. It's something about being on the road at night that makes you feel so hopeful and content.
All the neon lights, the cars on the road, the warm feel of the summer air on your skin as it washes over you through the open passenger-side window, music playing softly as other cars pass you, people walking along the sidewalks. It makes you feel less lonely. Like the world really can be a beautiful place sometimes.
"What're you thinkin' about, baby?"
You look at him then, shifting in your seat at his soft tone.
"Just how nice things are at night."
He leans back. "Oh, yeah? How so?"
Are you about to have an actual conversation again?
"You'll just tell me that I sound stupid."
"I won't," he replies, brushing his foot against yours.
"It's just pretty. All the lights and the cars and people. Don't you think so?"
He shrugs slightly. "I definitely think at least one thing is pretty."
Back to hitting on you again, then. Never one to give up, clearly.
Your waiter returns, then, to take your orders and Billy speaks. "It'll be one check." He then looks to you. "You want to order first, angel?"
That was a new one. 'Angel'.
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You get a salad and a small side, which consists of two pieces of fried chicken, while Billy gets two barbeque sandwiches. Before he even takes one bite of his dinner, though, he looks at you.
"You want to try a bite, sugar?"
You glance up to him from your salad. "I could always throw it on the floor after eating half of it."
He bites back a smirk. "Maybe that's why I got two."
You gingerly take the sandwich from him, taking a small bite, then handing it back.
"Good?"
You nod, chewing.
"You want the other one?"
You shake your head, swallowing. "No, thank you. And...thank you, for paying."
"You're welcome, darlin'."
Something was definitely going on. This wasn't him. But if he knew how to act like this all along, then why was he such an asshole all the time instead?
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Once the two of you have finished eating, Billy goes up to pay the check, you standing beside him. As you go to head outside, he holds the door for you again, hand pressed against the small of your back, and then even opens the car door for you as well.
"T-thanks," you say, sitting.
"Welcome," he replies, turning the key in the ignition. He then looks at you. "You want to find a place to stay for the night, or do you want me to drive around some more so you can enjoy the lights?"
You stare at him for a moment. He was asking what you wanted to do? You honestly don't know how to reply to that.
"What do you want to-"
He shakes his head. "I'm asking you, baby."
"I'm kind of tired, actually."
He nods. "I'll find us a motel, honey."
He does the speed limit the entire way to the nearby Days Inn, following the letter of the law to a T the whole way over. You find yourself impressed that it turns out he knows how to drive with common sense.
Once you've arrived, he goes inside, getting you both a room for the night, then comes back out to find you leaning against the trunk, waiting for him.
He throws the key to you and you catch it between your hands.
"One bed again. Think it being cheaper that way is going to be a common trend as we travel."
You nod and step to the side as he unlocks the trunk.
You reach down to grab your backpack first, until he gently grabs your hand in his, his silver ring glinting against the lights overtop the both of you. "I've got it, sweetheart. Let me get it for you."
You merely nod and watch as he loads all three bags onto himself and he follows you up the stairs to your room. Once you've unlocked the door, you let him go in first, then close it behind you.
This room is a near-duplicate of the last one, except for the color-scheme being different. Gaudy oranges and yellows litter the space, from the wallpaper, to the carpet, the curtains, even the bed-spread.
Billy lowers your bags onto the floor, then turns back to you. "You want to shower first?"
He's being very considerate tonight...
"Sure," you say, bending down to your bag, grabbing a pair of shorts and a tanktop, as well as clean undergarments, then stepping into the bathroom, softly shutting the door behind you.
You take your time bathing, trying to understand his sudden shift in mood. Maybe he finally felt guilty about how poorly he'd treated you so far? Maybe he was just tired. Maybe... You sighed. Maybe a lot of things. You didn't pretend to understand him, or the way he acted from one moment to the other.
When you step out of the bathroom, now clean and freshly shaved, you find him laid back against the headboard, flipping channels on the TV.
"You look nice," he says.
You put your hairbrush and razor away in your bag. "Oh, thanks."
He stands, grabbing a pair of briefs and sweatpants. He gives you a light tap under your chin as he goes to step past you, even kissing your cheek, which takes you by surprise. "Welcome, doll."
He shuts the bathroom door behind him this time and you sit down on the edge of the bed, head spinning.
If he'd been this guy from day one, you would've already returned his efforts in dating. How could he not understand that being an angry, vulgar ass was going to get him nowhere—not with you, at least. The 'bad boy' act would only get him so far with girls. But not very far in life, that was for certain.
You stand then, padding over to your bag, deciding to go ahead and pick out an outfit for tomorrow—something to occupy you for a moment, instead of dwelling on him and how he was now acting.
You even bother pulling a few things out, refolding them, then deciding to reorganize half the bag in general.
When Billy emerges from the bathroom, he comes up behind you, pressing a soft kiss to the back of your head. You spin around in surprise, bumping against the wall behind you. "Oh."
He steps closer to you, leaning down, wrapping one arm around your waist, while pressing the palm of his other hand against the wall. He begins planting hot wet kisses along your neck and your eyes go wide. He spears his tongue, licking gently, then kissing that same spot. The smell of Old Spice and spearmint invades your senses.
He pulls back, then leans forward again, pressing his lips to yours, softly, gently, his hand now moving to your waist, pushing your tanktop up.
You push lightly against his chest. "Billy, what're you doing?" You ask, voice laced with confusion and concern.
He gives you a small smirk. "Trying to kiss you, pretty girl."
He moves his lips back to your neck again, trailing kisses up to your ear, then whispers into it, "Don't worry, I have condoms."
You shove him away from you then.
"What was that for?" He asks, mildly irritated, erection already standing present.
"C-condoms? I told you earlier I-" You suddenly stop speaking, and then your eyes burn with unshed tears, hope that he was going to finally start being nicer to you shattering.
"That's why," you say tone defeated.
"Why what?" He spits.
You see the real him slowly returning.
"Why you've been so nice to me tonight. You found out I was a virgin and really thought it'd only take a couple hours of buttering me up for me to spread my legs for you. God, you're so pathetic."
His lips sneers. "Why do you have to be such a fuckin' cock tease all the time, huh? Everything I've done—driving your ass across how many state lines, buying you food, a room for the night, keeping you safe, and you don't think I deserve anything in return?"
He felt entitled to it? Sex? With you? You suddenly feel incredibly unsafe. Like you did back in that house with a father who ruled with fists and harsh words. How could you not have seen it before? They were two sides of the same coin.
"You're not entitled to anything. I never asked you for any of that. You practically fucking volunteered."
You angrily wipe tears from your eyes and he lets out a mocking laugh. "Here comes the fucking water-works. Every bitch's greatest trick. Well, guess what, cunt? They don't work on me."
You flinch at the vulgar name.
You watch as his hands tighten into fists at his sides and your heart begins to pound.
He steps closer to you. "I'm pathetic? Me? At least I was making fucking friends. People liked me. You lived in that goddamn town for how long and had nothing to show for it? I could've been king of that school and had any pussy I wanted. But, for whatever reason, you were the set of lips I chose to chase after. What a waste of my fuckin' time. I should've left your ass on the side of the road that night. Be one less problem on my fucking plate."
Your chin wobbles. "Fuck you. I would've been just fine without you. Better off, probably. You think you're so irresistible and different, don't you? Instead, you're just like your daddy."
He roars in anger then, and his fist lands inside the drywall directly next to your head.
You stare up at him in terror, silent tears slipping down your flushed cheeks.
He looks down at you, expression unreadable, his eyes flitting between both of yours.
"P-please don't hurt me," you say, voice small, somehow childlike, even.
His face falls, hurt flashing across his features. His fist loosens as he pulls it back, palm now-flat against the section of wall above the damage he'd just done.
You wrap your arms around yourself and he realizes that you think he's going to hit you next.
He staggers back, hands on his knees for just a moment before abruptly grabbing his bag and going in the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.
You sink down to the floor, bringing your knees up to your chest and you lower your forehead to the top of them, rocking yourself gently as you sob in fear.
When Billy comes out of the bathroom, he's dressed in jeans and another button-up shirt, but you don't see him.
His stomach turns when he sees you curled into yourself, crying, shaking, whispering to yourself. "Please...no....don't hurt...."
He lets out a quiet swear, slipping on his boots and jacket, grabbing his car keys and wallet from the table. "I'm going out," he throws over his shoulder before closing the motel door behind him.
Once he's reached his car, he slams the driver's-side door and goes to stick the keys in the ignition, then falters for a moment. Was he really about to leave you all alone like that?
Images of you staring up at him with wide eyes full of fear—just like how his mom used to look at his dad—flash through his mind.
He turns the engine over. Yes, he was.
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Billy drives around town for two hours. At first, he'd wished he'd brought his bag with him. He could've just passed over into Texas on his own by now if he had. Instead, he was stuck in Oklahoma with you for the moment being.
Eventually, he parks in an empty lot somewhere, pressing his forehead against the steering wheel. He doesn't want to focus on the way he's treated you since day-one. Shitty. That's how.
With most girls, he only had to put in minimal effort to get them to give him what he wanted. He had his looks, the way he dressed, a nice smile, his thick head of hair, a cool car, and a devil-may-care attitude. None of them ever asked for more. Well, they did, but he didn't much care what they wanted. Once he got what he was after, he was satisfied.
He leans back against the seat, eyes closed, unable to get the fucking image of you out of his head.
You'd called him out on his behavior every time—read him like a goddamn book—and that was what really got under his skin. Most girls he came across were either doe-eyed idiots, or sluts. There wasn't an in-between. Not in his mind. But not you, clearly.
But, he supposes, growing up with an abusive father forces you to become adept at reading others to anticipate their future actions, or understanding why they are the way they are. Why they do the things they do.
"For fuck's sake," he says, turning around to finally head back to you, deciding he'd apologize for scaring you. But that was it. Even if it had been your fault. He didn't want to think about how it was really his. How he'd caused this entire damn mess in the first place.
He was about to ruin a good thing. Like always.
It was like he couldn't help himself. What was it his dad had once said about him? Self-destructive behavior? Yeah, well, what did that asshole know? He drove his mother away—his own wife.
He had no room to fucking judge him.
No one did.
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Billy slowly climbs the stairs to the room and finds the door thankfully unlocked when he turns the handle.
And when he steps inside, his stomach drops. You're gone, as well as both of your bags.
He steps over to the small table on the other side of the room and picks up the notepad set atop it and reads your delicate handwriting: Don't look for me.
"Fuck that," he says, throwing it down, heading back down to his car.
He tears out of the parking lot like a bat out of hell.
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The longer he drives, the worse his anxiety gets. It was almost midnight now. What if you were in some strange man's car, bound and gagged and—no, he can't think like that.
He searches for your face in every woman he passes, but doesn't find you.
Then, he remembers you telling him before about how, had he not come along, you would've 'thumbed a ride'.
"She's on the fucking interstate," he says, making an illegal u-turn, nearly hitting another car as he climbs over a median, racing to you.
He downshifts, RPMs climbing, nearly in the red, then backing off just as the needle hits it, then downshifts again as he jumps on the interstate on-ramp.
He flies past other cars, barely paying attention to the road ahead as he searches for you on the shoulder. Then, "Ha! Fucking found you!"
He pulls over, slamming on the brakes, then gets out, closing his door, coming back toward you.
You stare at him in fear, then turn around, walking quickly away.
"Stop!" He yells, but you of course don't listen.
"Goddamn it," he mutters to himself.
When he finally reaches you, his hand grabs your own, tugging you back in the direction of the car. "C'mon, I'm taking you back."
You turn around, yanking your hand back away from him, staring up at him with bloodshot eyes. "Leave me alone!"
"No way in hell," he says, going to grab you again, but you step back.
He lets out a low swear.
You step forward then and slam your palms against his chest. And then you do it again. And again. And again.
And he just lets you at it. He deserves this after...well, after everything.
Finally, he wraps his arms around you, one around the backpack behind you, his other hand cupping the back of your head.
You sob against his chest. "I fucking hate you."
He shooshes you. "I know."
"You're abusive."
"I know."
"I told you not to-"
"You really think I'd ever listen to that shit?" He pulls away, looking down at you, his hands cupping your cheeks, brushing tears away. "You're stuck with me, baby."
He continues. "Please come back with me. I can't do this without you." He pauses, then, "I don't want to be alone anymore."
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userchai · 5 months
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eddie will call you whatever you want 🩵
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eddie-van-munson · 6 months
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-Young Dad!Eddie who has lost his high-school sweetheart to childbirth, and is now left all alone with his newborn baby girl.
-Young Dad!Eddie who's trying so desperately to ignore his grief that he barely even lets himself sleep for the first several weeks of his daughter's life.
-Young Dad!Eddie who struggles to accept help from Wayne or Robin and  Steve...anyone really...because he's trying so hard to do right by the love he's lost.
-Young Dad!Eddie that's determined to prove to himself that he's going to be able to take care of this angel that he's been left with.
-Young Dad!Eddie that owes everything to Wayne, who takes care of his little love all day long so that Eddie can work double, or even triple shifts to make ends meet.
-Young Dad!Eddie that lives to hold his baby girl. Who sits in bed alone with his newborn and giggles to himself as she clumsily tries to nurse the tip of his nose or the apple of his cheek.
-Young Dad!Eddie who carries a snapshot of his daughter's sweet, drooly, toothless grin in his wallet...right along side a well-loved, dog-earred one of her mom.
-Young Dad!Eddie that's so lonely, but can't stomach the idea of trying to meet someone new, despite his loved ones' encouragement
-Young Dad!Eddie who has a deeply buried streak of separation anxiety.
-Young Dad!Eddie who sometimes talks to the photo of his daughter's mother that sits on his beside table...mumbling to her about their baby girl as he drifts off at night.
-Young!Dad Eddie that feels his loneliness so deep in his stomach...like a painful knot.
-Young Dad!Eddie who can feel his body physically relax when he's finally able to scoop up his girl and kiss her chubby little cheeks at the end of his day. 
-Young Dad!Eddie that sings little songs and blows raspberries against his baby's bare tummy to hear her squeal and giggle so loudly.
-Young Dad!Eddie that holds his daughter's tiny foot up to his ear. Hello? Oh, it's for you, ma'am.
-Young Dad!Eddie who lets his angel yank his curls to her little heart's content
-Young Dad!Eddie who will often fall asleep with his daughter resting against his bare chest (even though he's technically not supposed to) because he needs her with him.
***********
I want to make this a fic so bad. What do you guys think?
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dazedandconfused-15 · 6 months
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Heaven's in your eyes (Part 1)
This is to answer a request I received from an anonymous user a couple of months ago “Billy asks shy reader out and is protective over her”, for some reason I can't directly respond to their post still getting used to Tumblr. Sorry for taking a while to write this one. Anyway, I got a little bit carried away and turned it into a short fic, I just loved the whole concept. I’ll definitely post a part 2. Comments and constructive opinions are always appreciated 🩷
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Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Female Reader
Summary: Life in Hawkins is dull and lonely, especially after your mom abandoned your family, leaving you even more isolated amidst school rumors. Already shy and with few friends, you find solace in your solitude—until Billy Hargrove, the intriguing new boy from California, comes into the picture. To your surprise, Billy seems to seek you out, finding ways to talk to you despite the odds. Never in a million years would you have imagined forming such an unexpected bond with someone.
Link to: Part 2, Part 3, Part 4
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You have always watched him from a distance.
There was something magnetic about him. Where he was, energy swirled.
You have never spoken to him. He’s something inaccessible to you. He hangs out with the popular crowd. Yet, unlike all of them, he doesn’t seem to pretend. He doesn’t show off. He naturally exudes an aura that makes him alluring. He’s not just what could be called "hot." No, he’s beautiful. When you first saw him in the school hallways, you could swear that for a second, your heart stopped. He was playing with his lighter, walking with an assured stride in the direction of his classroom with Jason Carver. He was a palette of contrasting colors that stood out in perfect harmony. His tanned face was framed by long, golden curls that almost fell over his shoulders. He looked straight ahead as he listened to the boy at his side with his red mouth stretched into a smirk that revealed white teeth. His cupid bow was dusted with stubble. It was no surprise that most of the girls looked at him with no shame, the shyest ones glancing up as soon as he passed them. That California boy did not look like a boy. He looked like a man. You could tell by the way he was built, the black leather jacket hugging his broad shoulders, the muscular legs in his denim jeans.
You had realized that you were staring openly at him when he passed by you and, probably feeling the weight of your gaze on him, his eyes had met yours. There, something had happened inside you. His eyes were the purest blue you had ever seen. They were crystalline. But it was the long dark lashes that gave his gaze something expressive and unique. They were the embodiment of what is called a piercing gaze. It was a unique paradox: as angelic as it was rough in outline. Awakening from your enchantment, you lowered your gaze with an abrupt jerk of your head and resumed putting your books away in the locker, feeling your cheeks on fire and your heart beating wildly.
That was the only time you had even a remote semblance of contact with him. 
As you rush to your English literature class a month later, rounding the corner of the hallway, the last thing you expect is to bump into him. You let out an "ouch" as you collide with his hard chest, your notes and pencil case tumbling to the ground in the chaos. It's only when you raise your eyes in a flurry of apologies that you realize who you've bumped into. You swallow, kneeling and picking up your notes hastily. 
"You alright?"
"Yes. Yes." the notes slip through your shaking fingers.
His hands appear in your field of vision, and when you accidentally touch them, an electric shock almost makes you wince. He helps you pick them up, then raises to his feet and holds them to you. You thank him, thinking about what else you could say to avoid making the situation awkward. His baby blue shirt matches the color of his eyes. He’s even prettier from closer. 
"We’re in History class together, right?
His question surprises you. You didn't think he would remember you. You didn't think he would notice you.
"Yes. That's right."
He holds out his hand, his heavy-lidded gaze on you. "Billy."
You shake his hand, introducing yourself. His hand is large and his grip his firm, but gentle at the same time. That touch makes your stomach tangle. You can't believe he is talking to you.
"You're new, right?" you ask. You know fully well that he arrived here a month ago. You know full well that he is from California. He probably knows that you know, but he doesn't say anything about it
"Yes. Moved here last month."
“Oh, okay. Welcome to Hawkins, then.” you say gently as you absently tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. 
“Thanks.”
There’s a beat of silence, him probably waiting for you to say something else. You point at the door down the hallway, starting to walk away. “I ah, I have to go to class. Sorry.”
And you walk away, no, you scurry away, almost escaping him, feeling a pang of embarrassment as you replay the scene later in your head, regretting how abruptly you left without saying more. 
You don’t cross paths with him again after that. However, you are clearly more aware of his presence during history classes even though you don’t interact again. 
In recent months, you've adopted a strategy of minimizing your visibility as much as possible. It’s not always easy. That Thursday is one of the hard days. Mr. Jensen, the new history teacher, makes his way through the rows of desks, collecting permission slips signed by parents for the upcoming day trip he has organized to Indianapolis. 
"Ah, I don't seem to have your permission slip yet," he inquires gently as he sees you empty-handed. "Did you forget to bring it today?" 
Feeling the eyes of everyone on you, your cheeks flush with embarrassment as you shake your head, your voice barely above a whisper. You hate all of this attention on you. "I, um, I haven't been able to get it signed yet. My dad's been working double shifts, and I haven't caught him at home."
“I understand,” the teacher says, “But I need to give all the signed papers to the principal by tomorrow. Is it possibly to get it signed today? By your mother, perhaps?”
Before you could answer, Tommy Hagan's voice pierces the air, his tone laced with mockery. "She's probably halfway across the country by now, cozying up with some other guy."
You don’t even turn to look at him. You saw it coming. It’s been five months since she left now. Hawkins is a small town, so the news spread quickly. You shift uncomfortably in your seat, avoiding eye contact with your classmates as you feel the weight of their curious gazes. 
"I uh...I just," you try to ignore Tommy's comment, resting your eyes on the professor whose eyebrows are furrowed in confusion. "I'll tell my dad tonight. He's just been really busy. I will bring it to class tomorrow."
“If he comes back with the milk.” snickers Tommy. 
You stiffen instantly without wanting to, which the teacher doesn’t fail to notice.
“That's enough, Mr. Hagan. Comments like that have no place in my classroom.” he snaps as his eyes darken, his jaw set. His expression softens as he turns to you. “Don't worry about the permission slip for now. We'll make sure you're included."
As the professor returns to his seat, your eyes remain fixed on the spot where the desk is chipped, absently touching it with your fingernail. Your body fails to relax as you fight to ignore the burning in your throat, careful not to blink, your vision blurred for a few moments. But Tommy's yelp draws your attention and you turn your head to your left, where he is sitting next to Billy. 
“What was that for, man?”
Tommy is rubbing his shoulder, his face scrunched up in pain and a mixture of disbelief and confusion on his face. Billy stares straight ahead, his face cold and hard. 
"What the fuck is your problem?" he eventually mutters under the teacher’s explanation. However, it sounds more like a statement than a question.
As you go back to stare at your desk, your throat is still burning but your vision is clear again. You wonder if what Billy said was because of Tommy's comments. Why would he defend you? 
The rest of the class passes in a blur of confusion and unanswered questions. Tommy's hurtful words echo in your mind, leaving you shaken and upset, the sting of their cruelty lingering long after the bell rings.
***
On the morning of the school trip, you are tempted to call the school and say you are sick, but your father comes back from the plant later in the morning and will see that you are actually fine. Also, Mr. Jensen might suspect that something is going on. Only, the idea of spending the day with the whole class, but feeling more alone than you are when you're at school, doesn't appeal to you. You've never been very outgoing. Since your mother left, the armor that covered you has only thickened, alienating you from the rest of the world. To this day you have received no answers. She left overnight without warning. You never received a call. You knew that things had not been going well between your parents for some time. Or rather, your mother kept complaining about how being in Hawkins was suffocating her, how she was no longer happy. The pain was slowly becoming coated with resentment. She had abandoned you and your father as if nothing had happened, as if years of living together had counted for nothing. As if being a family had cost nothing. Arriving on the ground floor and finding the kitchen light off had now become a habit, not an odd occurrence. Other things had become routine: the unaccustomed silence in your house, the TV once perpetually on now always off, the teapot once always in use was now in the kitchen drawer. 
Once on the school bus, you spend your time looking out the window and counting the trees on the distant hills. You can feel the wind blowing outside, the rain pelting cruelly on the window. A crack lets a trickle of air through, making you shiver and clench tighter in your jacket. The ride at least passes quietly, no one talking to you or bothering you. Tommy Hagan keeps his comments to himself, too busy jabbering in the back of the bus with his band of friends. You can hear the occasional shrillness in the voice of Carol Perkins, his girlfriend. 
You spend almost the entire morning in the Indiana Historical Society, following the professor through the corridors of the museum. You stay in the background, drowning out the guide's voice and looking at the paintings hanging on the wall. As you change rooms, you realize that you are not the only one who has remained aloof. Billy Hargrove lingers to your side at the back of the row of students, his hands tucked into his leather jacket. You try not to be affected by his presence, suddenly self-conscious of the way you walk and breathe. You still remember what he told Tommy Hagan the week before. You are increasingly convinced that he defended you. As the class spreads in different directions, everyone observing something different and speaking lowly in small groups you realize he’s still here, on your side.  As you ponder if you should say something, or just assume that he’s walking behind on his own, he catches you off guard. 
“Kinda boring, huh?” 
“Yeah, a little," you respond, offering him a small smile that probably looks like a grimace. "History isn't my cup of tea."
“Mine neither,” his gaze scans the display cases lining the wall on your left. “Beats being seated all day in class, though.”
“Definitely,” you nod in agreement as you slowly cross through another room. Desperately trying to fill the silence, you come up with the first thing that crosses your mind. “I’ve been here before.”
“The museum?” 
“Indianapolis,” you say. You hesitate before finishing your thoughts. “My grandma lived here. I spent some weekends at hers.” 
Billy hums. He sniffs, then retrieves some chewing gums from his back pocket. He unwraps one. “How’s the city?” 
“It’s great. Oh, thank you.” you softly say as you take the gum he’s offering you. “There are some nice parks.” 
He pops the chewing gum in his mouth. “We have quite a few in San Diego too.
You turn toward him, curiosity overcoming your shyness. “You lived in San Diego?”
“Yes. Big change of scenery.”
“I can imagine.” your gaze wanders to the antique objects displayed in a glass case. “I’ve seen pictures, it looks incredible.” memories of your dad's album, from when he was young, flood your mind – images of palm trees swaying in the breeze, golden beaches stretching for miles, and endless blue skies that seemed to merge seamlessly with the ocean. 
“That’s something else, yeah. Honestly, I couldn’t complain at all.” 
“I wish I could see California,” you say a little dreamily. 
“I can take you one day.”
Your throat feels suddenly dry. So you let out a nervous giggle, avoiding his gaze, assuming he is joking. Fortunately, the professor calls your attention back. It's lunchtime and he tells you that you are free to go wherever you want, as long as you are outside the museum within four hours. You told your father the school would pay for the student's lunch because you know times are tough. He insisted on giving you ten dollars in case you need it.
You walk down the steps of the museum looking around and thinking about where you could make all this time go. It's going to be long. You know a few restaurants, but you know that your pocket money is clearly not enough to eat there. A gust of wind brings the smell of smoke to your nostrils, and out of the corner of your eye, you see Billy stop beside you. His eyes take in your surroundings.
“So, you told me you know the city.”
“Huh, yes,” you answer, a little lost. “Not all of it, but most of it, like downtown.”
Billy exhales the smoke he’s been holding in his mouth.  “Are we downtown?” 
You look around, recognizing the skyscrapers in the distance. "Yes," you point to the skyline to your right, figuring he simply wants to ask you for information so he knows where to go with his friends. "It's over there."
“Sweet. You hungry?” 
The silence that passes between the two of you makes him turn toward you, waiting for your response. So you rush to answer, ignoring the way his piercing blue eyes make you feel self-conscious.
“Yes. Yes, a little bit,” then you ask him, unsure: “...are you?”
“Starving.” he resumes walking down the stairs again, and you follow him, trying to figure out if he really means what you think he means. Some classmates are already leaving in different directions. “You know someplace to eat?” 
“I do. But I don’t have enough. In case you want to go together. If that’s what you were offering.” You add, mentally slapping yourself. Why does everything you say have to come across as weird? Besides, you just admitted that you are practically out of money. “I can show you, though.”
Billy shakes his head, shifting in his leather jacket. “Nah, don’t worry about it. It’s on me.” 
“No, really, I can't let you do that," you insist, your voice tinged with concern. "I mean, I appreciate it, but I can't just let you pay for me."
Billy turns to you, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes as he exhales the smoke sideways. "Come on, it's no big deal," he reassures you. "Consider it my way of saying thanks for showing me around. Besides, it's not like I'm short on cash."
You hesitate for a moment. But ultimately, you know that accepting his offer would ease the burden on your wallet. With a resigned sigh, you nod in agreement. "Okay, if you insist," you concede, offering him a small smile. "But just this once.”
You wanna immediately grimace at your pathetic implication that there would be another time, but Billy doesn’t seem to notice anyway.
He just winks at you. And even if he’s not smiling or anything, it still makes your stomach flip. "Deal," he says. "Now, lead the way."
As you walk beside each other through the park later on, you relish in what surrounds you, not even realizing the silence that has settled between the two of you because it feels so natural. Some people are jogging, there are some families too, or people walking alone headed who knows where. The birds are chirping in the trees that are alongside the walk. You spot a squirrel scurrying up the trunk of one of them, its fluffy tail waving wildly. The late afternoon sun is shining right in front of you, hitting your skin in a gentle caress. Spring is gradually unfurling its colors, bringing with it a glimmer of warmth that has been absent from your life lately. In the midst of the cold and desolation that settled in after your mother's departure, this glimpse of light offers a tentative promise of renewal, a small beacon of hope amid the darkness that has enveloped you and your father. You glance at Billy, realizing that in the short span of your conversation, he's frequently reached for a cigarette. Yet, even during the moments when he abstained, like in the museum and at the restaurant, his mouth was never empty. It was either occupied by a mint, a bite of burger, the straw of his milkshake, or eventually a toothpick found on the table. 
“So, uhm, have you been somewhere else besides San Diego or Hawkins?” you venture. 
“Nope”, he answers, the “p” resounding loudly. He looks around, one hand in his jacket pocket as the other one holds the cigarette on his side. “Never moved from Cali. I was born in Santa Barbara. Then moved to San Diego when I was ten.”
You hum in acknowledgment. “Is Santa Barbara close to the ocean?”
“It is. I’ve always lived by the ocean.” 
You turn to him, enthusiasm laced in your voice as you get carried away in the conversation. “So you know how to surf?” 
Billy chuckles, nodding as he brings the cigarette to his lips. “I do, yeah. Surfed every day.” 
“Wow.” you breathe, your mind wandering away. “It must be…like an adrenaline rush.”
As Billy exhales the smoke, you don’t miss the nostalgic glint flickering in his eyes, but it’s gone as quickly as it came. "Yeah, it's something else. There's nothing quite like catching a wave, feeling the power of the ocean beneath you."
“I’ve heard it’s hard to learn.” you muse softly. 
The rhythmic sound of your footsteps punctuates the conversation. Billy stays silent for a few seconds, probably lost in his thoughts. Then he shrugs. “To be honest, I was on the surfboard since I was a child, so must’ve been natural for me. But yeah, it generally is.
“I can only imagine," you respond, a sense of longing in your voice. You’ve only seen this kind of landscape in pictures or on TV.  "Must have been amazing growing up with that kind of freedom."
Billy's sigh is loud as he exhales a plume of smoke, his gaze drifting towards the horizon. "It was. Surfing was my escape, you know? Whenever things got tough, I could just grab my board and disappear into the waves."
What he says lightens some curiosity in you. You wonder what he means by that. You wonder what he went through, what his past was like. There’s something really intriguing about him. But you refrain from asking more, aware of how little you know each other. Besides, you can’t help but notice the little twitch of his jaw muscles as he says it. 
"It’s always been books for me.” you offer. “They have this way of transporting you to another world, making you forget about everything else."
Billy nods in understanding. “What kinda books you read?”
“Oh,” you look at your shoes as you feel suddenly vulnerable. You almost feel ashamed of your taste in books, but you know you shouldn’t. “A bit of everything, really. I’m reading a Dostoevsky one right now.
“Dostoevsky, huh? Pretty heavy stuff.”
“You’ve read some of him before?
“I read Dream of a Ridiculous Man. A long time ago though.” 
“Oh,” you breathe, recalling how challenging it was to finish it when you read it a couple of months ago. Reading books by Dostoevsky, especially that one, has been both a cathartic and enlightening experience. They made you feel less alone in your pain. “Did you like it?”
“Yeah, it’s kinda controversial.” he grimaces. “It’s a fucking depressing book. But... it's like... there's something about it that just... resonates, you know what I mean? Like, you read it and... it's like looking into a mirror, but... the reflection's all twisted and weird. I don't know if that makes any sense.” he shrugs. 
It couldn’t make more any sense to you. For the first time, you feel understood in that sense. It's a relief to know that you're not alone in finding meaning within its pages. His words resonate deeply with you. 
“I totally get it. That’s part of the reason why I like his books.” 
The subtle revelation hangs in the air with the rhythmic sound of your footsteps on the concrete path. You hope he’s not reflecting on your words too much, aware of what you’ve implied. Your own thoughts go on what he said. Why did Billy resonate so much with the book? What if there’s something everybody can relate to, even people who haven’t experienced anything bad in life?
“You?” he then asks. “Always been in Hawkins?”
“Born and raised.” you nod. Then you add, a bit sheepishly: “Nothing like California, unfortunately.” 
Billy snorts, flicking his cigarette. “What’s there to do in summer?”
“Oh uh. Nothing much. We have a public pool.” you offer, looking at him. 
Billy takes a drag, his eyes trailing on the path in front of both of you.
“We have Lover’s Lake too,” you add. “It’s quite nice, actually. People spend the day there and have barbecues or campfires.” 
“Yeah, I’ve heard about that one,” he says. “You guys party by the lake during summer or something like that.” 
“Yes.” then you keep quiet for a few breaths, imagining he’s probably heard it from one of his friends from the basketball team. They’re usually to host parties or organize them. It always involves loads of alcohol and ends up in big scandals. You feel the urge to correct him. “Not me, though. I don’t, uh…I don’t party.” 
You feel his eyes on you. “Makes sense.”
You look up at him in question. 
“Didn’t see you at the Halloween party.”
“The one hosted by Tina Williams?” you soon look away as soon as you meet his gaze. “I didn’t know you…you noticed.”
“Would’ve sure as hell noticed if you were there.”
As Billy's words settle in, you feel a warmth spreading through you, starting from the tips of your ears and flushing your cheeks crimson. His simple compliment catches you off guard, igniting a whirlwind of emotions within you. You find yourself struggling to meet his gaze, your eyes flickering away as you search for some semblance of composure. None of this makes sense. The mere fact that he recognized your absence at the party, that he shared lunch with you, that he's now walking beside you in the park—it all feels inexplicable. You're accustomed to blending into the background, being an outcast in the bustling halls of the school. You're no stranger to the whispers that swirl around you, painting you as the outsider, the comments about your situation at home, the subtle jabs at your circumstances. The silence between you stretches, pregnant with unspoken thoughts. 
“You alright?” you hear him ask.
You slow down, lingering to a stop as you realize Billy has stopped walking too. He looks down at you with a hint of curiosity, the sun caressing his golden skin and reflecting in his eyes, becoming like polished, crystalline gems. That’s when you notice little details you haven’t paid attention to before. The scar cutting through his right eyebrow, the pattern of freckles dusting his nose. 
“I guess I’m just a little confused,” you admit. 
Billy exhales the smoke from his nostrils, his gaze effortlessly fixed intensely on you. “Why is that?”
“I just…” you try to not avoid his gaze. “Why are you here with me?”
The corners of his eyes crinkle in amusement and what looks like genuine confusion. “Why wouldn’t I?”
His question is so simple it takes you off guard. Makes you question your reasoning. As you’re at a loss for words, you feel a blush slowly creeping down your cheeks. 
Billy’s lips slowly curve into a smile, somewhat teasing. “You really have pretty eyes, you know that?”
You’re positively sure you’re as red as a lobster now, a little whine escaping your lips as embarrassment settles over you. It’s the most instinctual reaction. It makes him chuckle, and makes you awkwardly laugh in response, because what else can you do? He tilts his head to the side, trying to meet your avoiding eyes. 
“How about that? I’m here with you ‘cause of your pretty eyes”. 
“I really don’t think they’re that special.” you shake your head, still laughing. 
You’re not that innocent to not realise he’s openly flirting with you. You’re not surprised, because just looking at him is enough. You’ve also heard things about him and some girls at high school. What surprises you, is that he’s flirting with you. You don’t have that much experience in the love department, but there’s something sincere and genuine in the way he’s doing it now. There’s something soft in his eyes that tells you he’s sincere.
“Well, it’s a shame,” he says, that’s when you realise how much closer you are to each other. You can tell by how you can smell the tobacco and his cologne, his silver earring shining as it catches the sun. He tilts his head again, this time catching your gaze as you muster the courage to lock eyes with him. “’Cause you have beautiful eyes.”
“Thank you,” you mumble with a shy smile, nodding your head slightly. You swear you can hear your heartbeat in your ears. 
You feel like you want to return the compliment because his eyes are the reason why your heart is reacting the way it does. But then again, you’re too shy to do that, and a tiny part of you thinks it would make things weird or would end up having you vulnerable because you don’t know for sure if his compliment is fueled by real interest in you. 
“I just don’t hang out with anyone, trust me.”
As a distant church bells toll four times, their echoes drifting across the park, a subtle reminder of the passing time washes over you both. The realization settles in that it’s time for you to go. You should be back in front of the museum in half an hour. 
Luckily, Billy saves you from answering as he breaks eye contact and looks up beyond your shoulder, where the church is. “We should go,” he says.
As you walk back to the museum, you think about his words. Now you realize that you didn’t see him hanging around Tommy Hagan lately. In particular, today on the bus, the latter was seated with his girlfriend and hung out with two other members of the basketball team. Billy was somewhere else the whole time.
When you two reach the museum, the teacher is already counting everyone to make sure the whole class is there. Billy joins his mates, elbowing one of them in a friendly gesture. You didn’t fail the notice the looks most of your classmates shot at you when he saw you two arrive together. The teacher draws the class's attention back to the trip, prompting feedback and reflections from everyone.
What you don’t expect either once on the bus, is feeling someone sitting on the empty seat next to yours. Billy gets comfortable, making it seem something so normal as he stretches his long legs as far as the cramped quarters allow. His thigh brushes against yours and your heart jumps a little in your ribcage, but a few minutes later you start to relax. You can’t help the feeling of warmth spreading through your chest as you take in his choice to sit deliberately next to you. You don’t need to fill the silence, or at least not as strongly as a few hours ago. You’re also quite tired. As you venture a glance in his direction, Billy’s eyes are closed. It seems you’re not the only one feeling tired. His arms are crossed over his chest but his facial features are totally relaxed now that he’s dozing off, his head resting against the seat. His hair seems soft at the touch, a curl falling unruly on his forehead. You feel the distant urge to wrap it around your finger, brush it from his face. There is a difference between now and when he’s fully awake: his expression softened, his gaze peaceful, and his features relaxed. It's a stark contrast from the demeanor you've observed from a distance, where his smile is more wolfish, his facial muscles tense, and his eyes often distant or bored. You force yourself to look away from him, setting your gaze on the window. As the rhythmic hum of the bus lulls you into a state of drowsiness, you feel your eyelids grow heavy. The warmth of the moment envelops you, and soon, you find yourself dozing off as well. 
Once you get off the bus, you wrap your arms around your waist as you shiver. The weather is distinctly different. It seems to have been raining all day. The sky is darkening. School buses cannot take you home because there is no bus stop near your house. Forest Hill Trailer Park is in the isolated part of Hawkins. There is no one from the high school living there, so you can't ask anyone for a ride. It's not like anyone would have offered anyway. You've always walked to and from school, in total it takes you forty minutes. As you start to walk away from the bus, you hear footsteps behind you and Billy is at your side, effortlessly catching up with you. You realize his car is parked a few steps away from you. The gleaming navy blue Camaro stands out among the other cars, ‘CALIFORNIA’ on the license plate.
You take the opportunity to thank him before he can dart away and you will probably never exchange another word again.
“Hey,” you start, turning to look at him. “I just wanted to thank you for paying at lunch today.”
Billy plays with the lighter, making it bounce in his hand. “It’s nothing. How are you getting home?”
“Oh, I’m walking.” you point your thumb at the road on your left.
“Come on. I’ll drive you.”
Your mouth opens and closes stupidly, then your brain finally decides to cooperate. Accepting his offer feels like taking advantage of his kindness. You don't want to do this. “I…it’s not a long walk, don’t worry about it.”
“It’s probably gonna rain soon.” he points at the sky, walking past you and toward the parked car.
“You don’t have to.” you insist, guilt filling my stomach as he opens the passenger door for you.
“I know.” he chuckles. 
The soft thrumming of a rock song fills the air, the bass pulsing gently as Billy lowers the volume as soon as he turns the engine on. The interior of the Camaro envelops you in a world that feels distinctly his. The smell of leather fills your senses, mingling with the faint scent of his cologne. It's clear that he takes immense pride in his car and the care and attention he devotes to it reflects on the interior. The leather seats feel soft and smooth. There's not a speck of dust anywhere, even in the corners. A pair of aviators rests on the dashboard. 
You give him directions, your voice cutting through the quiet ambiance of the car. He nods in acknowledgment, his gaze focused on the road ahead. His left arm casually drapes against the window, while his other hand firmly grasps the top of the steering wheel. 
“It’s quite a walk,” he observes as the Camaro speeds through the road surrounded by the woods. 
“Yeah…”
You’re thinking of asking him to stop before getting to Forest Hill, but it’s pouring and you don’t have an umbrella. As you get closer and closer, anxiety starts rippling through you. You shake the feeling out of your head. You’re being ridiculous, there’s nothing to be ashamed about. Additionally, you barely know him. You try and distract yourself, asking him about where he lives instead.
“Cherry Lane. You know where it is?” 
“Yes, it’s a nice and quiet area. It’s not that far from school either,” you observe.
Billy absently scratches his chin, the glint of a silver braided ring catching your eye. “Yeah. It’s quiet, that’s for sure.” 
You find yourself wondering about its significance. Does it have one? You've heard numerous accounts of Billy's involvement in fights at parties, tales of the severe injuries sustained by those who crossed him, and the ferocity of his punches. How many times has that ring been tainted with someone else's blood? Despite the rumors surrounding his aggressive behavior, your interactions with Billy have always been positive. He's consistently shown kindness to you.
Billy turns left, veering off the main road onto a narrow side road, the tires crunching on the gravelly dirt path that winds its way towards Forest Hills. The rain drums insistently against the car, a steady rhythm punctuating the silence between you.
The first trailer emerges into view, its weather-beaten exterior casting a shadow of foreboding over your already uneasy mind. Despite your discomfort, you muster the courage to speak up, directing Billy to continue driving until the end of the road.
You steal a furtive glance at him, searching for any hint of judgment in his expression, but Billy remains impassive. There's no trace of surprise or disdain in his features. His gaze lingers on the scene before you, studying it with a detached curiosity that seems to characterize his view of Hawkins as a whole.
“Thanks again for today, really. I wanna pay you back,” you venture as he slows down.
Billy waves a dismissive hand before settling it on the gear shift, smoothly transitioning into first gear. “I told you it’s no big deal. Wouldn’t have offered otherwise.”
You worry at your lip, still not totally convinced. You glance at him. “I know that. But it doesn’t sound fair. It’s important to me.”
Billy's gaze shifts to the road ahead as he seemingly considers your words. "If you really wanna make it up to me," he starts, his voice trailing off for a moment before he continues, "How about you show me around Hawkins sometime?"
You blink, caught off guard by his suggestion. "Show you around Hawkins?"
"Yeah," he nods, resting his forearm loosely on the steering wheel as he gestures while he talks. "I've only been here a short while, and I don't really know my way around outside downtown yet. Like, all the places you talked to me about. The lake, the quarry."
The idea appeals to you, though the thought of spending more time with him outside of school never crossed your mind. The fact of spending time with him in the first place was out off the charts for you. "Sure, I could do that," you reply, a tentative smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "I mean, I'm not exactly a tour guide, but I could show you some cool spots. Whenever you want, uhm. Yeah.”
Billy reaches out to the compartment on the passenger side, brushing your knee with his arm. He opens it and extracts a pen. 
“Here,” he takes off the cap with his teeth, and before you know it he’s taking your arm, gently lifting your sweater sleeve. 
You try to look unfazed by his touch, though the feeling of his fingertips pressing gently against your skin as he holds your forearm, the sensation of the pen as he writes something on it makes you shiver, raising goosebumps. You look at him in silent confusion as he writes, his dark lashes brushing his cheekbones, a glimpse of pearly white teeth and a sharp canine as he holds the cap between them. Then he releases your arm, and you take a look at it while he takes the cap from his mouth. A series of numbers are written in blue ink on your skin. A phone number.
“Oh.” you say softly. You definitely haven’t expected that.
“Call me when you feel like it.” 
It’s really hard for you to hide your nervousness, acting as cool as you can.
“Okay, will do.” you unbuckle your belt, glancing at him enough to give him a soft smile.
Billy nods at you in silent farewell before you close the passenger door. “Have a good night”.
“You too. Bye.”
The warmth of Billy's presence lingers in the car as you step out into the cool, damp air, the raindrops falling softly around you. Closing the door behind you, you watch as the sleek navy blue Camaro disappears down the little road and into the woods from the small window of the living room. As you stand there, the drops of water falling from the end of your hair, you can't help but brush at the phone number on your forearm, tracing the neat handwriting with your fingertips. It's like you're still trying to wrap your head around what just happened. Though you're trying to keep it under control, you can't help the fluttering feeling in your heart.
636 notes · View notes
lavendermunson · 7 months
Text
mine - steve harrington
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summary you get separated from the love of your life after spending the best night together, would the universe bring you back to him? based on this request, thank you so much!
cw college!steve, college!reader. fluff, angst and more angst then more fluff. modern times!! allusions to sex. reader wears glasses sometimes.
w.c 9.2k
a/n created a playlist for this one (i struggled a little bit and the songs helped) thank you to @stveharringtn and @ihatepeanutss for reading the early chapter and motivating me to continue ily! NO PROOFREAD BECAUSE IM EXCITED
dividers by @saradika
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I. Left a small town and never looked back.
Due to your parents' jobs, you had to move frequently, and the longest you stayed in one place was three years. You were so used to this, following the single rule for yourself: never get attached.
One problem, it was impossible not to fall for Steve Harrington. 
You met Steve in Hawkins, and the three years you spent together were magical. Talking late at night, going to the movies, and hanging out by the lake. Holidays were always spent with him, you invited him to your house, and your parents loved him. Even though your little brother was only 8 years old, he knew Steve was important to the family.  
The last year of high school was just around the corner. You’ve talked to Steve about graduating together, going to college, and spending the rest of your lives together. Watching each other through all the ups and downs of adulthood, you knew Steve was going to stay with you no matter what, he would be there for you, and you would be there for him. It was all a perfect dream, you’d have someone to celebrate your victories and cheer you up when the inevitable bad luck followed you around.
That dream was crushed when your parents told you they had to move again. You were heartbroken, and even more so because you were going to be separated from your favorite person. It was the first time you'd broken the rule, you got attached to Steve, and you fell in love with him.
The news broke him. He couldn’t sleep for the rest of the week, he wanted to be with you all the time, like you promised.
———
Before leaving Hawkins, you decided to confess your feelings for him. It felt wrong to pack that secret into your suitcase. Steve felt the same, he liked you too, but he didn’t want to admit he was in love with you yet. He decided to make your last day at Hawkins the best day you’ve ever had.
The first stop was the diner outside of town to eat burgers, fries, and milkshakes like you always do. At your favorite booth, this time it had a vase with flowers in the center of the table and a beanie babie.
“This is the one I saw in the magazine.” You take the white stuffed bear, it has a red ribbon around his neck and an embroidered red heart. 
“In case you need someone to hug,” he says, looking at the laces of his shoes and holding back his tears.
“Smells good! I’m so hungry.” You saw the way his smile faded, changing the subject was better than crying already. You had to enjoy the night.
While sipping from your freshly made milkshakes— stealing the cherry on top of his milkshake as usual—and watching Steve go over the old jukebox to play your favorite songs, the pocket of his jeans ended up empty from using all the coins he had.
“Get up! We have to dance.” Steve stands up, reaching for your hand.
He had to choose wisely for the next song, it was the last coin he had, so of course Be My Baby, by The Ronettes, was playing. He took your hand, squeezing it, and placed his free hand on your back to keep you closer. You rest one of your hands on his chest, feeling his heart beat fast for you.
Everyone in the diner was watching you, but you didn’t care. You were in the arms of your boy, your love, and it was the last night with him before a while. You had to dance like nobody was watching.
Leaving the checkered floor and the red booths, the second stop was the theater, cuddling while watching ‘Before Sunrise’ . It's one of your favorite movies, and it came back to the big screen for its anniversary.
Both of you get the feeling that it is the perfect movie to watch on a day like this. It was perfect because you don’t know what’s going to happen with you two in the future, just like Celine and Jesse. Your love for each other looks like that, it feels like that, and the best part is that it’s real, not something written for a movie. You aren’t acting or performing. You are feeling it.
You feel so lucky you didn’t meet him for just one night, you had spent so much time with Steve. The endless walks around the park and picking flowers in spring while he holds the basket and you place your favorites on it so you can take them home. The fun summers, hanging out by the pool, and eating a lot of ice cream—one of those years you had free ice cream thanks to Steve working at Scoops Ahoy. You spent the entire summer making fun of his tiny sailor suit, not wanting to admit he looked really good in it. 
Fall was always fun, dressing up for Halloween, and joining the kids to trick or treat, so at the end, you can steal some of their best candy bars. The adorable winter, playing in the snow and getting your nose red, drinking hot cocoa and marshmallows while watching Christmas movies.
Everything comes back to your mind like you were watching your movie. Feeling safe and loved with Steve’s arms around you. You never fought before, nothing went bad, but everything was over. For a while.
Steve holds your hand while you walk through the parking lot. The night sky is decorated with stars, so big and bright. He interlocks his fingers with yours, squeezing your hand as you walk to his BMW. 
The last stop is Lover’s Lake. He parks his car in the usual spot—your favorite spot. It’s the best place to feel the magic of the water mixed with the light of the moon. A reminder that you exist on the same planet, even if the miles come between you.
The radio starts to play ‘Don’t you forget about me’. The song was perfect. You take a deep breath. This is a moment you will remember forever.
Both sitting in the hood of his car, he hugs you, shielding you from the cold breeze, and kisses the top of your head while your back rests against his chest. The tears start to spill from your eyes, rolling down your cheeks. You can't hold the sobs, your chest is giving up.
“Hey, hey!” He turns you around, softly cupping your face between his hands and rubbing the tears away with his thumbs.
“Don’t you dare forget about me,” you whisper, as if the trees were going to be disturbed by your sobs.
“I won’t, I’ll call you every day. But I am going to miss you so much,” he whispers back. 
“I’m scared, Stevie,” you sob, tangling your arms around his neck. “What if we can’t make it?”
“We will, we got this. The love I have for you is stronger than anything else, we won’t let the distance break us.”
“Do you promise?”
“I promise”
Pressing his thumbs against your cheeks, he gets close to you. Your lips touch, and it feels like thousands of fireworks light up inside you. You feel one of his hands slide down your arm, and it makes you shiver. His hand rests on your waist and gives it a little squeeze. You jump closer to him than before, and you can feel his lips turn into a grin.
It wasn’t your first kiss with him. You kissed sometimes while playing spin the bottle or when Steve wanted to teach you how to kiss better.
“We will get through this. I'll see you again, and we can live the rest of our lives together.”
He kisses you again, and you open your mouth as he pushes your face to the side with his thumb. He slides his tongue to join yours and get more of the way you taste, honey, strawberries and cherries. Steve is being patient, taking his time brushing his tongue against yours and humming at how good it feels.
This kiss felt more magical, it made your insides bubbly, and your cheeks got warmer. But inside you, the clock was ticking, you had to savor this moment in case the universe turned against you again.
He breaks the kiss, trying to slow his breath. You do the same, opening your eyes slowly.
“I won’t do anything, not tonight." His voice is soft, but the tone is deeper. He feels a knot in his throat. “But next time, I promise I will make you feel so good.”
“I know, next time and the others. There’s only a couple of months left for summer break, and we will see each other again.”
“We will, baby. Now kiss me before I fall to the floor, you look so pretty tonight as you always do.”
“You are beautiful, Stevie.”He kisses you again, not getting enough of you. He kissed you before you went inside the house and he would’ve kissed you a thousand times more if he knew it was going to be the last time.
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II. Wondering why we bother with love if it never lasts. 
You were disconnected and heartbroken by the time you spent the first week of your last year of high school at a different school. Steve picked a few shifts a week at the local coffee shop after school, always with Robin by his side.
Hawkins felt so empty without you. Every time he saw a happy couple smiling, kissing, or hugging, he felt nauseous and jealous. His friends knew how he felt, they missed you too, but they never stopped calling you. 
The only thing that kept him going were your calls, you called every single night. Tell him about your day, your new school, and your new friends. He tells you about school, work, Robin, and the kids. It was good, he loved hearing your voice and watching you through his screen.
“I can’t believe it! I told you! Steve Harrington’s first A+ essay, and without my help. I feel a little wounded, you don’t need me at all!”
He felt so proud of himself. You were the last one to know about it but you are the most excited one. Even more excited than him.
“You are a great tutor, all those tips and seeing my practice essays marked with a pink glittery pen helped me a lot”
“I'm so proud of you, you are capable of anything I know!”
“Honey…” Steve’s worried face makes your heart sink.
“Yes?”
“I’m always going to need you. I can’t live without you.”
You press both of your hands against your chest as if that were going to soothe your pain. The damage you caused him is evident, you shouldn’t have broken that stupid rule.
“I miss you, Stevie. I can’t do this without you.”
“I miss you too, honey. And you can, you have me here. Always”
Steve feels his head heavier each minute, the long hours at the coffee shop kill him. 
“We should go to sleep, yeah?” he says, noticing your sleepy face. 
“We should. Good night. Call me tomorrow!”
“Please, I don’t know if I can survive without hearing your voice”
You get closer to your camera, blowing him a kiss.
“I’ll annoy you with my voice every night, honey!”
“I’d love that baby. Good night,” he says, blowing a kiss back.
When you hang up, he tosses his laptop to the floor. It falls on the pile of unwashed clothes he has. 
“Weird,” he says to himself, looking at his laptop resting on the clothes. He takes a look around his room. It’s a mess, he makes a mental note to clean it, and he can’t stress over it right now.
Steve lays with his back against the mattress. He remembers the way you brought your hands up to your chest. He does the same, hoping to understand why you did it.
His warm palms rest against his chest, now he knows. He feels it. Steve applies a bit of pressure to his chest, closing his eyes and trying to fall asleep.
So much for trying, it felt like maybe five minutes had passed, and when he glanced at his clock, it was six a.m. His alarm was about to go off, and he had to go downstairs, make breakfast, and get on his way to pick Robin up to go to school.
That’s when he lets out a sob. Time does pass without you, the world doesn’t stop, and he gets even more scared than before. 
Don’t you forget about me.
He grabbed his phone, clicking on his texts. You’ve already said good morning to him.
‘Good morning baby. I'll miss you forever. Have a nice day! Love you”
That’s when he takes a moment to reply. 
‘Good morning, hope you slept well. I love you too.”
And then he gets out of bed to spend another day without you by his side. Knowing you are slipping through his fingers already.
———
Three weeks later.
The calls stopped being frequent, sometimes you were too tired, or sometimes he was too tired. 
“I have to go, I'm exhausted. Can I call you tomorrow?” you ask him.
Steve had to ignore the arrow that just shot through his heart, he wasn’t ready to say goodbye. The more he talked to you, the more he missed you. When he knew you weren’t going to make it for the summer break he felt his heart break, every time he woke up he was already crying.
This broke your heart too, not being able to see him, or visit your friends. It felt like some strange and strong force was keeping you away and pushing you farther.
“Of course, honey. Sweet dreams”
“Sweet dreams, Stevie.”
He closes his laptop after you hang up, tossing it aside. The pile of clothes seems to be bigger. He swears to do it tomorrow, or the day after tomorrow. Whenever he feels like he is alive.
Four months later.
The rush hour at the coffee shop ends up killing Steve’s back, and his feet are burning. To his surprise, his parents are home.
Can this day get any worse? Yes, you haven’t texted him back since yesterday.
"Steve, are you still wasting your time at that damn coffee shop?” His dad shouts he doesn’t have time for this. “Steve?”
He hears his dad’s heavy steps behind him. He catches Steve at the first step of the stairs.
“Didn’t you hear me? Say something!”
“I’m not wasting my time, I'm saving up for college,” Steve whispers. He can feel his dad’s warm breath against his face, and he can smell the whiskey too. 
“College? You are going to work for me, right?”
“No?”
“Then why go to college in the first place?”
Steve pushes his dad away, and his mother joins them.
“It’s clear, John.” she says.
“Say it, Steve.”
“To get the fuck away from you, that’s why,” Steve spits out. His eyes were burning, and tears were threatening to fall.
He gets away from them, locking himself in his room. He doesn’t mind looking at his phone or picking up his laptop, he just wants to fall asleep and get this over with. It has been such a long day.
Six months later.
It’s been a long time since you’ve talked to each other.
“Are you tired?” You ask, and he has been rubbing his eyes for the third time now. “You don’t have to hang up, carry me to your bed.”
Steve leaned his head to the side, just as a confused puppy does. 
“C’mon, I’ll read you a story so you can fall asleep. Like old times.”
“Are you sleeping late?”
“I have assignments to finish, I need to catch up with a few classes because I fell behind.”
“You’ll do great, honey. You are the smartest person I know!”
“Steve Harrington, you are the smartest person I know. We are a couple of months away from college and i'm really excited”
“Me too honey, it sucks you couldn’t come here for summer break”
You will see each other, you will. 
Steve shakes his head with a smile plastered on his face, holding the laptop in his hands. He lets himself lie under his sheets, fixing his pillow and resting his head on it. 
"Are you ready?” you ask him, sitting on your desk and getting comfortable for a long night.
“Ready, no scary tales, please!"
“I promise! Close your eyes now!”
Steve takes the last glance at you, his fingers reaching to touch his screen as if he were touching your face. But he can’t, you are too far away now and it kills him.
“Goodnight”
The bubbly feeling in your chest goes away when you don’t hear a nickname. No honey, no baby. 
“Goodnight!” You wait until his eyes are closed. “And we begin, once upon a time."
Steve falls asleep before getting to know what the story is about, he was so tired and this is the first time he has slept more than three hours.
You close your laptop after watching him turn to the other side. You are trying to return your attention to your assignments, but the only thing you can feel is your heart breaking again. The hope you once had is now fading away. You are managing to live without him, but you don’t want to. 
Steve regrets it. He regrets falling asleep. This time he didn’t wake up seeing your face, he didn’t get to hear your bedtime story, and he didn’t get to tell you how much he loved you. And he regrets it so much because it was the last time he heard your voice.
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III. And every time I look at you it’s like the first time
Two years later.
Steve had a hard time finishing high school, but he did. Later, he had to retake a year, but he saved up some money with Robin to move to college. After jumping up and down and celebrating with their friends their acceptance letters, they got into the college dorms for the first year, but that went very badly because they couldn’t be roommates and all the noise from the dorm building was constantly giving them a headache.
He saw Nancy and Jonathan when they all came back from college over the summer break, hanging up with them was the best. They helped him and Robin choose the best apartment outside of college, it was close to the new coffee shop they were working on and close to their buildings. He never saw you again, you were too busy to travel, and he was too. Mindlessly forgetting about each other and not meeting again hurt less. 
When he had to retake a year, he hesitated to call you. He was ashamed of himself, you were supposed to go to the same college in the same year. 
When he finally got his acceptance letter, he didn’t call you. Steve had a feeling you got into college and that your life was going well. He knew he was right.
But it had a good outcome, Steve retook his senior year and moved in with his best friend to start a new chapter in his life. A life that he wanted to enjoy, free from the pressure of his parents and the small town that made him feel so small.
Their first year wasn’t easy. Steve spent most of his time in his dorm, and Robin did too. They didn’t go to parties and didn’t seem too excited about meeting new people.
He felt like a total stranger like he didn’t belong there. He picked the same coffee shop he was working in to hang out, he picked the public library over the school library because it looked terrifying.
Steve spent most of his weekends and days off studying, he was at the top of his class. Whenever he wrote an essay, it reminded him of you, but not as a sign of hope, just a reminder of his small town years.
Robin spent most of her weekends traveling to Hawkins to meet her girlfriend, Chrissy. Taking Steve’s car and cleaning it for him as a thank you.
Steve didn’t meet anyone else, he didn’t want to get attached. If anyone leaves, what’s the point? He was only close to two of his classmates, that was enough for him.
———
“Do you know who’s moving in?” your roommate asks, Diana was always aware of every gossip around college. It was your second year being her roommate, she slowly became your best friend.
“No, who?” You ask, not really wanting to know but giving her satisfaction again.
“A new couple! I hope they aren’t as loud as the last ones.”
“Please, I need to buy new headphones just in case.”
Diana laughs, walking towards her room to place some of the new boxes she moved in. You asked if she wanted help, but she didn’t because her brand new date was going to join her.
You decided to head up to the public library, knowing you had never been there and wanting to explore a new world. It was a couple of blocks away so you had to take the bus.
———
Steve and Robin were driving around their new neighborhood, looking for their new apartment. They were singing the songs on the radio, even if Robin didn’t know most of them because her music taste was original. But Steve knew every one of the trendy songs.
They stopped at a red light. Robin got distracted by two dogs ‘kissing’ each other. Steve looked away with a face of disgust, and that’s when his eyes fell on you.
He wasn’t sure if it was his imagination, were you really there? Was he hallucinating? Maybe the smell of coffee is doing some damage to his brain.
But it was you, wasn’t it? without the signature choker, without the thousands of bracelets, and without the red lipstick always staining his shirts. Then it wasn’t you. You had glasses now, a gold chain around your neck, and your hair was slightly lighter.
The bus blocks his view; he wants to scream at it to move, and when it does, you disappear—or the hallucination he had of you disappeared—the honk of the car behind him makes him jump, the green light is on, and he has to move.
“Steve! Are you okay?” Robin shouts, scanning Steve’s face. He looks pale, confused, and scared.
“I think I just saw a ghost,” he says, looking over Robin and then the road ahead.
“You are only nervous, the apartment will be good, don't worry. If they scam us, we have Chrissy to defend us in court.”
“Yeah, stop it lovebird. We are here.”
The apartment buildings look so tall, almost intimidating. Steve drives around looking for the parking lot, and when he finds it, he and Robin take a moment to process it.
"I'm scared too, but we should go in. The moving truck will be here, and we will have a lot to do,” Robin says, taking Steve’s hands and giving them a light squeeze. “We got this”
“Yeah, we should go in now.”
They go over to their apartment, meet their landlord, and get their keys. The moving truck comes a couple of hours earlier, and they move in their new stuff after cleaning the apartment.
A couple of empty boxes and a lot of wrapping paper later, they are done. They only need the heavy couch.
“Even if I help you, we won’t be able to do it”
“I know! I’m thinking”
Steve and Robin are stressed now. Steve’s hair is disheveled already, and Robin’s mascara is smudged around her eyes. They had a long drive, and now they are so tired of getting the apartment ready.
“We should just knock at our neighbors. Their screams stopped.”
“Yeah, I should buy new headphones for that.”
He points in the hallway. Robins walks out of the apartment and knocks on the door. After a few knocks, the door opens, and Steve joins them.
“Steve? You are Nick’s friend, right? I saw you with him the other day,” a guy asks, introducing himself as Eric.
“Uhh yes, Nick! Nice to meet  you."He shakes his hand. “This is Rob, my friend.”
“Nice to meet you!” Eric says, “This is my..."
“I’m Diana, nice to meet you guys,” she waves at them.
“So, we need help moving on our couch. Could you help us?” Robin asks.
“Please, we are a great team, but that couch is very heavy,” Steve says. “What if you help us, and we invite you to eat some pasta? I saw a new Italian restaurant a few blocks away.
“Sure, we can help!” Diana says.
The four of them carry the couch with ease into Steve and Robin’s apartment, they thank their new neighbors, and they all high five, looking proud of themselves. 
“Thank you again, guys, we should go. I'm starving!” Robin smiles at them, and they all nod but Diana.
“Can I invite my friend? She can meet us there,” Diana asks. They all nod, but Eric.
“No way! She hates me,” he says, shaking his head, taking Diana’s hand, and stopping her from going into their apartment. 
“I told you it would take time. She is protecting me,” she says, dragging Eric with her into her apartment. “We will see you guys in a minute.”
“Sure, take your time,” Steve says. Their neighbors leave and shut the door behind their backs.
When they are gone, he wraps his hands around Robin’s neck. He looks over the apartment and smiles.
“We made it,” he says.
“We made it!” She says back, hugging his waist and rubbing his back.
They break the hug after a few minutes, looking over the almost finished apartment. There’s some stuff left to unpack.
“Wait for Chrissy to see this, she is going to love it.”
“Is she coming? Tomorrow?” Steve asks, looking at his friend and her lovesick smile.
“Yes! I think I'll finally ask her the question"
“Already? Isn't it too soon?”
“Dingus, when you know, you know. Life is short, we can’t lose time stressing over everything,” she says, rubbing his shoulders. “You will find someone, maybe not, you know who, or maybe you will. Let time choose.”
He knew Robin was talking about you. Even if Steve moved on and got his shit together, he was still missing you and the part of him you took with you. No matter how many dates he had, how many times Hopper talked to him. He wanted you, something far from impossible. 
“You should write that on a note and put it in the fridge." They both laugh. "I'm very proud of you.”
“Don’t make fun of me, or you will lose your best man spot. I will give it to Eddie.” Robin gets a napkin out of a box and cleans her mascara.
“Hey! Who used to drive you everywhere and still does?”
“I'm joking!”
“I know,” he says, giving her a pat on the back. “Good luck with your proposal.”
“I still need a ring, not all of us carry our grandmother’s rings everywhere we go.”
“Shut up! I'll help you get a ring.”
“Yes!”
They high five again, and they hear knocks on the door. They see their neighbors again.
“My friend isn’t coming, I think she is with her boyfriend. But we can go now!”
“Yay! Sorry about your friend."Robin gets closer to Diana, leaving Steve behind with Eric.
“Aren’t you together?” he asks.
“No, we are friends. Platonic with a capital P!” Steve replies, walking to the door and joining the girls.
“Cool, maybe you can date Teddy and smooth the anger out of her,” Eric says.
“Teddy?” Steve asks, walking to the parking lot.
“Oh, Di’s best friend,” he says, pointing at Diana. “She has this weird ass white teddy bear, and since then, I call her Teddy.”
“Oh, funny,” Steve says. A weird white teddy bear? No, no, it can’t be. His heart pounds harder against his chest, and he gets back to that night. The diner, the flowers, the beanie baby, and then someone who looked like you at the bus stop.
This can’t be real, he won’t get his hopes high again.
“Are you okay, man? You look scared,” Eric asks Steve, stopping him after he puts the key on his BMW. “Can you drive?”
“Yeah, I can. Don’t worry,” Steve says, his free hand over his chest. “It’s just something that happens.”
“He sees ghosts!” Robin shouts, making everyone laugh.
“We should walk guys, it isn’t that far,” Diana adds.
“Yeah, we could use some fresh air,” Robin says.
They all walk to the restaurant, enjoying a fun night. All of them get the feeling they’ll be close, but tonight they treat each other as strangers. Not sharing all but funny stories and college adventures.
———
When Diana gets home, you are already there, she walks over to the couch to wake you up and help you get to bed.
“Did you talk to Jake?”
“He picked me up from the library, we didn't-"
“Another time will come."
You hum, walking with her to your room. She closes the door, and you walk towards your bed, put your pajamas on, and slip into bed. You try to sleep, trying to keep all the midnight-crushing thoughts away, with the BMW in the parking lot on your mind, it looks very familiar.
———
It’s only 8 a.m, and you sit at home, eating your oatmeal bowl with strawberries, bananas, and a cup of coffee you’ve made yourself. You point to the cup you made for Diana, it has been sitting there for a few minutes. Maybe she wanted a cold brew instead of a nice hot cup. 
“One is Rob, and the other... I don’t remember.”
“Di! You are really bad with names.”
“Are you sure you don’t want ice on your coffee?” you joke.
“No, and yeah, I was a little stoned too, that’s why I don’t remember well.”
“That’s always going to cost you, babe.”
“I know, but I can introduce them later! We are all going to a party, and Rob will pick us up after work because the girl had to see her girlfriend.” She chugs her cup of coffee and puts her jacket on.
“Are you sure his name is Robert?”
“No, it’s Rob!” She still looks unconvinced, but you leave it. “Anyway, is Jake picking you up?”
“I don’t know, we aren’t really on speaking terms.” 
Jake was your boyfriend a couple of weeks before he asked you for a break, and you haven’t “fixed it." He picked you up from the library yesterday, and the whole ride home was quiet and uncomfortable, but something tells you it isn't going to last.
“Call him! He is good for you.”
“I’m not sure about that, but I’ll see you later then.”
“I’ll see you later, babe!”
“Be careful!”
———
You finish washing the dishes and go back to your room to get ready for the party. Minutes later, Diana and Eric show up to drive you to the house. It’s the first party of the semester, and everyone seems pretty excited about it except you. You know if you see Jake again, he will probably break up with you, rip off the band-aid, and go to the girl who has been hanging out with him at the gym.
But you go, not wanting to miss out and excited to see some of your friends who arrived in town. It might not be the best night, but at least you’ll have a cup of cranberry juice with vodka to survive.
You arrive at the party early, not wanting to talk to anyone, yet you get closer to the table in the middle of the dining room and make yourself a cape cod. When it’s done, you get to the living room and sit on the couch, watching as people come over, and some of them wave at you and say hi before going for their drink.
Jake arrives with a girl by his side, He gets closer to her ear to whisper something, and she turns around as he walks to you.
“Can we talk?”
“You are going to break up with me, aren’t you?” You pinch your eyebrows together. 
“Let me explain.”
He sits on the arm of the couch you are sitting on, so close to you. You can already hear his words muffling and how sorry he is about all of it, making up excuses to let you know it’s not your fault he is doing this and the two of you should end your relationship now. Avoid telling the truth and spinning around the subject, reminding you of all the good moments but also all the fights and “breaks” you had.
You look at him through your eyelashes, your tears rolling down your cheeks. Your now ex-boyfriend pinches your chin with his fingers, not letting your gaze fall to your lap or the cup you hold in your hand. He whispers “I’m sorry” thousands of times more, and you refuse to move, feeling the warmth of his fingers against your face for the last time. Then he leaves you alone to find his date, and you wish the earth could swallow you whole.
———
When Steve gets to the party with Robin and Chrissy by his side, he lets the two of them look for a place while he gets their drinks. The house is so tiny that everyone is squeezing each other and bumping into each other on the way to other rooms. Everything smells like alcohol and weed, and even the floor is sticky, but after all, Steve manages to get to the dining room and look for the red solo cups. He takes one and pours tequila into it. He drinks it, feeling the burn down his throat as he keeps his eyes closed. He needs more of these to survive the night.
He looks around, recognizing some people he used to see around in his first year, some of them are customers in the coffee shop he works in. When his head looks over to the living room, he sees the girl from the bus stop, the one who looks like you. 
Steve gets even more confused as you chug your drink, the solo cup covering your face. He turns his head away from the view, even if it’s not you, his mind betrays him.
Where’s the real you? What are you doing right now? Do you have a boyfriend? A girlfriend? A child? A cat? Are you married? 
The question that hurts more is the one he used to think about almost every night. Would he see you again?
He tries to enjoy the party as soon as he sees the girl leave. He misses watching Diana run after you and try to comfort you. 
Your friend takes you home, and Steve stays until the party is over, and he is a bit more sober to take Robin and Chrissy back to their apartment.
———
“Robin? Why did you leave so soon?” Steve asks Robin over the phone, while he tosses empty boxes and bags around.
“We are getting you breakfast! Jesus, what’s your problem?”
“I’m hungover, and I forgot I have to send this email before twelve, but I can’t find my laptop charger, and I can’t find yours either!”
“Shit, I took mine because Chrissy needed my laptop, but I'm sure yours is in your room. We unpacked everything.”
“Fuck! I’ll call you back.”
“Ask Diana for one!”
Stressed out, Steve hangs up the phone before listening to Robin’s last words. Of course, he can ask his neighbor for a favor, and he knows Diana is nice. 
He gets out of his apartment, and a few steps later, he gets in front of the door. He knocks a lot of times to get Diana’s attention, or maybe Eric’s. Steve doesn’t remember if they got back here from the party, but it’s worth trying.
As the door opens, he takes a step forward. “Hey! My laptop charger broke, and I have to send this very important  email-" He takes a deep breath, not believing who is in front of them. “What-”
“It’s you,” he whispers, feeling a knot in his throat and rubbing his clammy hands together.
“It’s me” You rub your eyes one more time, getting rid of the blur on your eyes from being woken up. “Steve?” Your heart starts to beat against your chest so fast that you swear it’s hurting you.
Steve stares at you, it’s like the first time he saw you all those years ago. He didn’t believe in love at first sight until he felt his body giving up and just yearning for you. He feels it all again, you look even more beautiful than before, but with your signature heavy gaze. 
“I'm sorry if I’m interrupting, I can just...“
“No? no. Uh, come in, let me find my charger.”
This is not how you imagined seeing him again. The last time you dreamt about him, you were seeing him for the first time at the Hawkins airport, You ran to him, and he caught you in his arms, kissing every inch of your face. And now, with your heart beating faster than ever and your feet carrying you to your room, you can’t help but feel like you are having a nightmare.
You hurry up, find your charger, and run back to Steve.
“Here, you can keep it. I have two of them,” you say. He still looks at you with his mouth slightly open and his eyes studying every part of your face.
Keep it. He knows you are doing this because you are nice, but a part of you still recognizes all the love you once had for him. Or have, because it never faded away. It’s still your Steve, slightly older and with a confused expression on his face. 
He takes the charger from your hands, your fingers touching him for a couple of seconds. When you finally lock eyes with him, you can see his glassy eyes while yours look the same. He didn’t want to believe it was you, you were so close all this time.
“I thought i’d never see you again,” you whisper, almost inaudible, but he can hear it. As if its ears were trained to hear even the lowest tone of your voice. 
But the air feels tense, awkward. He doesn’t say anything, and you stand in front of him like before, frozen in your place as a wave of anxiety washes you over. You stare at each other, trying to avoid all these feelings rushing through your veins.
“I need to send this email, I’ll be right back.”
He goes back to his apartment, leaving you and your overwhelming feelings alone. You close the door to your apartment and take some time to process everything. Steve is here, your Steve. The boy you once called the love of your life, the only boy you’ve ever loved.
You weren’t sure you were going to see him again. You gave up on it a few months ago, knowing it would take a miracle to see him again. And he was so close to you all this time.
When you hear the knock on the door again, you open it faster this time. Steve stands up in front of you, watching your tears roll down your cheeks. He wraps his arms around your body, hugging you so tightly as if you were going to disappear. Your arms hug his torso, letting your head fall against his chest for a second before your sighs turn into sobs.
“I can’t believe it’s really you,” Steve whispers, convincing himself to not let you go. He fears the alarm will go off and he will have to wake up from his dream. 
“I know, it feels like a dream, please don’t let go,” you say, as if you were reading his mind all this time. 
“I won’t”
Steve rests his chin on your head, letting his own tears fall. You stay in the hug for a long time, feeling his warmth against your body, and his arms push you closer to him. You dig your fingers in his back, wanting to feel him more and wishing for this not to be some sick joke.
He places one of his hands on your head, kissing your forehead, before leaning back and searching for your face.
“Hi,” you say as you look at him, tears on his face just like yours.
“Hi,” he smiles, slightly. You do the same, looking at every inch of his face. Remembering all the moles your mind seemed to forget with the time.
You admire each other, letting your mind take you back to Hawkins and all those years you spent together.
“I missed you so much,” he says, slicing the awkward silence with a knife, now rubbing your back and trying to get you relaxed. As your sobs stop, you let go of him and invite him inside.
“I missed you too.” You smile again. The inches separating you are killing you, but there’s too much to say and feel.
“You stopped calling,” Steve says, with a sour tone in his voice you’ve never heard before.
“The phone works both ways.” You bite back, crossing your arms in front of your chest. Protecting you from what’s coming.
“I-” Steve mutters, avoiding your eyes and looking all over the room.
“You? What? Did you forget about me?” you ask. “We made a promise.”
The mix of feelings that sit right at the top of your chest starts to reveal themselves. It’s all so confusing, and you weren’t prepared for this. You want to blame him for the time lost, but you know it’s also your fault.
“Why are you bringing this up right now? I saw you for the first time at a fucking bus stop and thought I was going crazy. It’s too much!”
Steve feels relieved; his mind wasn’t betraying him, and he wasn’t going crazy. It was really you—the new you. 
“Just say the truth. You didn’t answer my call when I got into college or when I moved in.”
“You called?”
“I called your house since you didn’t reply to my texts or emails. No one answered.”
“I got into a fight with them, and I moved in with Hopper. I was having a hard time, I’m sorry.”
He confesses. You see the way his lips turn into a pout, his tears threatening to fall again.
“What happened?”
“I messed up, had to retake a year.”
"Oh,” it’s the only thing you can think of. Some things made sense, but you still had a lot of questions.
“I didn’t tell you because I was embarrassed and so disappointed in myself. No one heard about you, or your family, so I thought you didn’t want to see me, and I had the feeling you were fine without me.”
“We had to move again, two times. But this is the college of our dreams, I didn’t see you here the first year. I thought you chose a different one.”
“You know me, I don’t break promises.”
He looks back at you again, it takes everything in him not to walk to you and kiss you. It takes everything in you to not do the same.
“Listen, I have an interview today, but can we have dinner? I still have a lot of things to say, a lot of things to ask, and it’s been so long.” you blur out. 
“Sure, I have a shift at the coffee shop, so I’ll see you at seven?”
“Yeah, that’s okay, Where do you work?” you ask, suddenly shivering. It’s really him, this isn’t a dream.
“In a coffee shop that’s on Main,” he replies, “I know you never go there, I would’ve seen you.”
“I’ve been busy.”
Right. Diana mentioned a boyfriend. His heart suddenly stops, fearing that he is seeing you again just to lose you again.
“I know,” he says, resting his hands on his hips, looking around the room to avoid your eyes again. “Good luck on your interview.”
“Thank you, good luck on your shift." You can feel the awkwardness coming back, the uncomfortable silence threatening to come back. “I’ll see you at seven!”
“I’ll pick you up here,” he says, You can only nod before he turns his back on you. 
"Stevie,” you say. He is about to open his front door when he hears your voice again.
“Yes?” he says, turning his head slightly to see you. He missed that nickname, you are the only one who calls him like that. 
You want to keep talking and confessing your true feelings right now, but you have things to do. He is more important than everything else, you got him back, you don’t want to waste time. 
“Say hi to Robin for me.” 
He nods, then walks into his apartment. You close the door of yours once again.
Fear and excitement occupy most of your brain right now. You are praying for him to still want you, to love you back as much as you've loved him this whole time. Being his best friend would be a great start, but being back to be his love sounds even better.
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IV. You are the best thing that's ever been mine.
Steve paces around his apartment, Robin and Chrissy are back, and they watch him mumble something under his breath. 
“Everything will be fine, you will talk to her and get back together,” Robin says.
“What if she has a boyfriend? What if she is in love with someone else?” 
“You can always steal her away, Robin did that to me." Chrissy joins the conversation. 
They have been talking about you for hours. Steve decided to exchange his shift and stay home while Robin was taking her day off. He was too distracted to go to work today. 
“Dingus. Stop it! You are making me dizzy." Robin gets up, reaching for Steve’s hands and making him look at her. “You’ll see her when she is back, you are going to take her to that restaurant and talk like the adult you are. Okay?”
"Hot,” Chrissy blurs out.
“Thank you, sweetheart." Robin looks at her and winks. 
“Gross, get a room, you two!”  Steve’s disgusted face makes both girls laugh. 
“You can do it, dingus. You’ll get her back.” 
“I’m not sure if she feels the same or if I feel the same.”
“Didn’t you say she hugged you so tight you almost ran out of breath? That’s a good sign.” Robin’s hands travel to Steve’s shoulders, shaking him up and trying to wake him up from whatever nightmare he is making up in his head. 
“And don’t start. You’ve been rejecting girls, having failed dates, and looking like a lost puppy whenever you see a girl that looks slightly like her. You two are still in love, from what you tell me and from what I feel.”
“You are right, I'm still in love with her. But it’s been a long time. I changed, she changed too.”
“Changes are good, I know it because it was hard for me to accept the real me, but I took that step because I wanted to be free,” Robin confesses, stopping Steve from giving up. “Talk. Try. You met again for a reason, don’t let that go to waste.” 
Steve nods. “What would I do without you?” He hugs Robin for a minute before hearing some voices in the hallway. He hears the front door open and close, which means you and Diana made it home. 
“You’ll be lost without me! Good luck, dingus.”
“Go get your girl, Steve!” 
Steve walks to your door and knocks, to his surprise, Diana opens the door. 
"Hi,” he says nervously. “Is she here?” 
“Yeah, she will be ready in five.”
"Alright,” Steve says, his hands clammy again, and he finds himself shaking. 
“So, you are the guy she has been talking about nonstop.” 
“I guess yes,” he replies, feeling his heart racing again. You’ve talked about him. 
“Good for you,” Diana says, before you step in. 
"Hi,” you say, looking at Steve again. You find this odd, but you are thanking whatever it was that brought him to you again. 
"Hi,” he replies, his gaze heavy on you as he takes everything in. Your soft voice, the sweet smell of your perfume. 
“Home by ten!” Diana jokes, making you laugh and shake off the anxiety that took over your body. 
You walk away from the apartments, with Steve by your side. He glances at him from time to time, and you do the same. 
“How was your shift?” you ask him, trying to get rid of the awkward feeling that washes over you again.
“I didn’t go. Too distracted for it,” he says, looking over at you as you walk to the parking lot. “How was your interview?”
"Good,” you sigh, not wanting to ramble about it at this moment. “I hope I get the job.”
“You will, you can do anything,” he says when you reach his car, noticing it looks the same way as before. 
Nothing has changed, just time. Everything feels the same, like it froze, letting time pass over it without a single consequence. 
Steve looks at you, his brows knit in a frown, and he is almost chewing his lip.
“If you want to ask something, just do it,” you say, making him shiver. “I know you, maybe not so well anymore, but I do.”
“What if your boyfriend sees us?” he asks.
A chuckle falls from your lips, shaking your head and pushing the hair out of your face.
“I don’t have a boyfriend,  he broke up with me yesterday, and I saw it coming. I’m over it.”
“Oh, do you want to talk about it? We can stay at home, i can leave you alone, and we can reschedule our dinner because i don’t want you to feel like you.”
“I’m still in love with you,” you interrupt, confessing. With a soft look in your eyes, Steve gets lost in them. “I’m sorry, I can't waste any more time. I need to get this out of me. I’ve been looking for you in everyone, everywhere. You are here, and you look the same, I know time has passed, but I believe my love for you has kept you exactly as I remember you.”
Steve doesn’t know what to do, the truth is, he has been waiting to hear those words for a long time. He has been waiting to see you, to hug you, and to kiss you.
“I’m still in love with you too,” he says, running his fingers through his hair, pushing his golden locks back. The sun is setting completely, and you can still see how it shines. “I never got over you, I was forced to move on because i felt like I didn’t deserve you. And I never wanted us to fall apart, I needed you all this time.”
He gets closer to you, his chest almost bumping into yours. He hesitates to kiss you in the moment, even to touch your hand. The setting reminds him of the last time he saw you, your last night at Hawkins.
“If you want, we can try to make up for the lost time and give it another try.”
“I’d love that.”
He gets closer now, with your confession turning into an invitation. Steve places both of his hands on your cheeks, rubbing the soft skin with his thumbs. It takes you back to that night, it feels like you are relieving that moment just to make it right this time.
“Baby-” he is so close to your lips, his words tingle your lips, and you never stop looking into his eyes. Those sweet brown eyes you missed so much.
“I’ve missed that, honey." He laughs at the nickname, but it still makes him shiver and smile like a little kid.
“And I’ve missed you, kiss, please?”
Steve nods, pressing his lips against yours. It’s a soft, slow kiss. You can feel the breeze of the cold night on your face as you flush when Steve leans his head to the side to trap your bottom lip between his lips to taste you. You close your eyes, savoring the moment. One thing you forgot and cried for every night was this.
His warm lips against yours, his taste. His hands squeeze your cheeks as you press your body against his.
It’s the first kiss since that night, two years have passed, and this still feels so familiar. So safe. The kiss is even sweeter thinking of all the time you’ve dreamed about this, of all the unspoken feelings you communicate to each other with everything your lips brush.
When air is needed, you lean your head back a bit. You giggle at the same time, and he places a kiss on your forehead. Happiness takes over you, it feels like floating.
“I still have that beanie baby, you know?”
“I do, Teddy.”
“Don’t call me that!” You hit his arm slightly, and he chuckles while rubbing his arm dramatically.
“It’s cute, it suits you,” he says, leaving a peck on your lips, resting his hands on your hips this time.
“It’s ridiculous!” You scrunch up your nose, and he leans in to smooth it off with a kiss. “Let’s go eat, I’m starving.”
“Only if my dessert is going to be this sweet girl, the universe got back to me,” he says, picking you up, his arms hugging your waist. You can feel your feet dangling in the air. You tangle your arms around his neck so you don’t fall when he spins you around.
“Yes, yes, I'll be your dessert!” You giggle as you feel his lips on your cheeks, and when he stops, you peck his soft cheeks back. “In which house?”
“Oh, I don’t know, it depends on how loud you are.”
“Stevie!” Your cheeks glow red, and he laughs at your sudden flushed face.
“I’m joking! we‘ll figure it out later." He doesn't stop hugging you, even when he puts you down, your feet are now touching the concrete of the parking lot.
“Which one?” you ask, teasingly. Trying to hold back the giggle that is about to escape your lips.
“Both!” Steve says.
You get back in his car, and he proposes the idea of repeating everything you did that last night but with a different ending. You find a nice diner, not as nice as the one outside Hawkins,but it does the job. The old jukebox is there to dance after you eat burgers and fries and you end up stealing his cherry again.
When he picks up the sun, you get up from the booth where you are sitting and run up to him. One of your arms rests around his neck, and the other hand is holding your hand. He interlocks his fingers with yours while his free hand sits on your waist. He pushes you to his chest, the closest he can get you to him, and you start to sway around the checkered floor of the diner. Dancing like nobody's watching, again.
“You are the best thing that’s ever been mine, baby." He sings along with the song before kissing you again.
“I’ve always been yours, honey”
This night is even more magical than the last one, and you’ll have tons of them.
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tags: all @munsonology @emistrash @livsters @paybacksawitch @ali-r3n @keeksandgigz @babybatlover @fanfictionlover277353 / steve @stveharringtn @double-vision-in-a-rose-blush
please please reblog to support your creators! comments are appreciated !! my ask is always open if you have any feedback. thank you so much for reading ♡
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Tired of “bunny” readers. I want FOX readers that are clever and aren’t able to be MANIPULATED!!! Give me “I knew he was playing a game, but he didn’t know he fell right into my trap!” Readers dangit! Give the smart neurospicy girls fics without infantilising them!
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powderblueblood · 10 months
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HELLFIRE & ICE masterlist
life in hawkins, indiana is bittersweet for an eighteen year old like you. up to this point you've enjoyed your reign as the resident rich bitch ice queen of hawkins high. you glide above the student body with an impenetrable grace— until the IRS comes knocking and your family loses everything that makes you you; the money, the super-trendy clothes, the people you called friends. you're forced to trade your plush suburban life for a double wide in forest hills trailer park— directly across the lot from resident hellfire king and noted freak, eddie munson. you've got plenty of reasons to hate him, but number one with a bullet? his daddy put your daddy in jail.
pairing: eddie munson x f!oc, mentions of unrequited steve harrington x f!oc and unrequited jonathan byers x f!oc, platonic!nancy wheeler x f!oc, platonic!ronnie ecker x f!oc
tags: NSFW / MINORS TURN BACK NOW! f!oc is written in the immersive second person; she does have a name and a background, but no physical description is mentioned in the text. enemies to star-crossed lovers on a slow burn setting, angst, misunderstanding, yearning, swearing, smoking, drinking, era-typical classism/sexism/homophobia/sexual harassment, smut including but not limited to voyeurism, masturbation, public sex, discussion of crime that i pull out of my ass kind of, really mean jokes, eventual fluff (i promise). extremely canon divergent with references to flight of icarus.
ready to light this place up?
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❦ - SERIES
❦ - chapter one: THE POISE, LUCK and INTEGRITY OF A KENNEDY
❦ - chapter two: VIOLENT DELIGHTS at HARRINGTON'S HOUSE
❦ - chapter three: EDDIE MUNSON COMMITS TREASON (BREAKS UP a CAT FIGHT)
❦ - chapter four: HOT SKIN and a HALL PASS
❦ - chapter five: CHEERLEADERS MAKE BAD NEIGHBORS
❦ - chapter six: IN MY ORBIT
❦ - chapter seven: WELCOME to the REAL WORLD, JACKASS
❦ - chapter eight: SEWN UP
❦ - chapter nine: EDDIE the OBVIOUS and the LADY SPHINX
❦ - chapter ten: THE NEW FACE OF FAILURE
❦ - chapter eleven: ALL TOMORROW'S KEGGERS
❦ - chapter twelve:
❦ - chapter thirteen:
❦ - chapter fourteen:
❦ - chapter fifteen:
❦ - chapter sixteen:
❦ - epilogue
❦ - BLURBS N SHIT
in-universe requests are open for business
flashback - LACY'S DAD GETS ARRESTED
flashback - EDDIE MUNSON STAMPS NICOLE SUMMERS' V-CARD (NOT A BOARD WAXER, NOT IN MAUI)
what if - EDDIE FOUND LACY'S JOURNAL
what if - LACY FOUND EDDIE'S WEIRD SERIAL KILLER WRITING SCRAPS
lore - ALL ABOUT THE BOOKSTORE
blurb - EDDIE HEARS LACY HAVING A SEX DREAM AND...
blurb - EDDIE TELLS LACY HOW HIS PARENTS MET
blurb - LACY VISITS HER DAD IN PRISON
blurb - FOUR TIMES YOU WERE STRUCK INCAPABLE OF IMAGINING YOUR LIFE WITHOUT EDDIE MUNSON
blurb - YES, NURSE RATCHED
blurb - THE BANDANA
blurb - EDDIE FS CASS FINNIGAN IN THE A
blurb - THE LACY AND JONATHAN OF IT ALL
blurb - THE KING OF HAWKINS HIGH: AN AL MUNSON STORY
❦ - FUN STUFF
soundtrack - VOLUME ONE
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msgexymunson · 1 year
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Shotgun
Description: you're on a camping trip with your two friends, and the scariest guy from school: Eddie Munson. A few beers and some weed change the way you look at him however. Maybe he's not so scary after all. Cocky, oh yes, but not scary. Especially the way your legs start to squeeze together at the sight of him. But, does he like you, or is this some cruel game to play on the innocent band geek? 
A/n: do I have 10 WIPs? Yes. Do I have requests I'm working on? Also yes. So logically, I started a one shot from a smutty dream I had, that turned into a freaking long one. Enjoy!
Warnings: NSFW, Minors DNI or I'll feed you to the fishes. Very smutty, a bit of angst, hella fluff! Reader is AFAB, cocky!experienced!Eddie x Virgin!band geek!fem!reader, very slight dub con in the beginning (touching over panties, explicit consent not given), female fingering receiving, dry humping, female oral receiving, p in v protected sex. 
❤️Reblogs are what keep me going; they keep Tumblr going, and my little black heart beating. Reblog my work and I'll love you forever sweetheart. ❤️
12.5k words (oops) 
Masterlist
"You know you guys can't handle this shit!" 
Eddie laughs, nearly spilling the beer cradled in his hand. 
Steve rolls his eyes, chucking his beer top into the campfire you guys had set up for the evening, the paint sparking briefly. 
"Come on Munson, pass it round, quit being a bitch." 
"Yeah Eddie, share the love!" 
Robin giggles as she clutches her chest dramatically. Shaking your head, you shift uncomfortably on the ground. It's not that you haven't been around this sort of stuff before, people you weren't too keen on have smoked once in your company. It wasn't even a moral thing, you were just a little scared of the effect. That, and the fact you were sitting right next to Eddie Munson. 
Eddie, the guy you've literally been frightened of since you saw him leaping on tables in the cafeteria. That was some time ago, and Robin had assured you he was a good guy. You trusted her judgement completely, hence why you'd even considered going camping with the three of them for the weekend. It didn't help the fact that you were just a band geek, not used to these sorts of get togethers. Hell, your closest friends played chess for fun. This was so out of your comfort zone that you felt like a deer in headlights. Only a week ago you had your first beer, at 21; the proper age. Now you were sucking back a brew in the woods at night, sitting next to the drug dealer of the area. 
It could just be the beer talking, but Eddie looks good right now. Every time he shook his mane of hair out of his face it had you biting your lip. He threw his head back when he laughed and the sight of that stretched neck of his had you clenching your thighs, feelings bubbling up that you'd never felt before. 
So when his hand reached out and his fingertips grazed you, a blunt pressed between his thick ringed fingers, you gasped, pulling your hand away as if it had been burned. 
"Come on, take it." 
Your tongue feels thick and swollen, sticking to the roof of your mouth. Words. Think of words. 
"Can't you, erm, pass it the other way?" 
"No, it always goes to the left sweetheart." 
Sweetheart.
Glad the low light hides your blazing cheeks at the pet name, you dip your eyes downward for fear of them exposing you. You played the flute for Christ's sake. This was not your thing. 
"I-I, well, I-" 
"You not smoked before?"
Robin's voice cuts through the myriad of noises in your head, making you turn violently. 
"I just, I never-" 
"Look at me." 
Those words from him sing through your nerves, making you forget any thought you had, or anticipated. As you turn, Eddie's dark eyes bore into you. 
"You trust me?" 
No. A thousand times no.
"Yes." 
"Come here." 
He shifts and gets up on his knees, joint pressed between pouting lips as he lights it again, the cherry blazing almost as hot as your blood right now. You mimic his movements, rising on shaky thighs to kneel in front of him. 
"Right, I'm gonna take a pull, and blow the smoke, when I breathe out, you breathe in, 'kay?" 
His words are sweet, and a little condescending, an edge of talking down that just stirs up your insides further, guts a puddle. 
"Okay." 
He cups his hands to his face, gesturing for you to do the same. Raising your shaking hands, you touch them delicately with his. He flips his hands so they are on the outside, cupping yours, pushing them together with a lot more force than you did. 
He's close, so close. Your breath hitches in your throat, those deep eyes a couple of inches from yours. Heat radiates from his body, your skin itching almost from its blistering warmth. That could just be from the fire. Or the fire in between your legs. 
He smells good. There's weed there, sure, and the beer you've all been drinking, and some aftershave you couldn't place, maybe bergamot? An undercurrent lies beneath it all, of man and skin, that makes your toes curl. 
He breathes into you then, the swirling smoke trying to escape your cupped hands. 
You inhale deeply, focusing on the feel of Eddie's rough hands, on his touch. You breathe in until there's nothing left and hold it. His eyes don't leave yours, sparkling in the fire light. 
The exhale hurts more. Breathing out smoke, you revel in the fact you didn't cough or startle. The feeling of him letting go of your hands is far worse. 
A ringing, whooping noise finally reaches your ears, between the sound of your own blood pumping. Robin and Steve are cheering like morons, but your gaze doesn't leave Eddie. 
"There you go. Good girl." 
Damn. 
A sharp intake of breath pulls into your lungs and straight to your heat. The pure shock and desire those two words drew from you have you dropping backwards, butt slamming into the pine needle dusted ground. 
"Hey you OK?" Robin's hand on your shoulder distracts you briefly and you flash a weak smile. 
"Sure, just went to my head a little, I'm good." 
Eddie's hand reaches over you, passing the blunt to Robin. You dare not look him in the eye, fearful that everything you felt was written all over your innocent face. Out of your periphery, you can tell he's facing you. Suddenly the fire was extremely interesting. 
Robin has a couple of tokes, and tries a third when Steve waves at her. 
"Quit hogging it!" 
"OK, don't get your panties in a twist!" Passing it to Steve with a loud huff, he takes it and breathes deep. And promptly coughs his guts out. 
Robin and Eddie cackle, and even you can spare a giggle at the irony. 
"Told you Harrington. Even the little band cutie took it better than you!" 
"Fuck off Munson." 
Hell, he knows who I am. And he called me cute.
This is Eddie. Scary, metal head, drug dealer Eddie. Eddie who all of a sudden stirs your insides up and makes your head dizzy. Eddie who you now realise is actually goddamn gorgeous. 
Eddie takes a hit and turns to you. 
"You wanna try smoking it sweetheart?" 
Heart hammering in your ribs, you manage to speak. 
"C-can you do, that thing, again?" 
His smile is dipped in sin as he scoots nearer to you, and you copy him. Suddenly this seems more intimate, sitting on the ground, twisting to face each other, inches away. He takes a hit and holds it, gesturing at you to lean closer. The way he tilts his head, you could almost believe he's going to kiss you. This time, he cups your face, blowing smoke at you. It's so close his lips brush yours ever so softly. 
You're not sure if your inhale was intentional or a shocked gasp, but in the smoke goes. 
Did he mean to do that? 
One look into his eyes tells you yes. There's a cockiness to his grin, the devil dancing across his face. 
So, did he do it because he likes you, or is he just messing with you? Only Eddie knows the answer to that. 
You exhale, less than an inch from his full lips. Time stops. That is until Steve and his loud mouth break the spell. 
"Come on, get a room you guys!" He practically yells, throwing a twig in your direction. 
You snap your head away from Eddie and stare at Steve with wild eyes. 
"I-I wasn't, we- we weren't-" 
"We weren't? Well, that's a damn shame."
As you glance back at Eddie he's leaning on propped up elbows, looking so sure of himself that it's annoying, bordering on making you angry. 
Cheeks flooding with warmth, your mouth forms words without checking with your brain first. 
"Y-you know what you are Eddie?" 
He tilts his head at you, still smirking, and gestures a hand willing you to continue. 
"A cocky mother fucker." 
The grin falls from his face as he looks at you in shock. Robin and Steve practically piss themselves laughing at your sudden outburst. 
"Shit Eddie you better watch out!" Robin laughs out. 
"Yeah, that kitty's got claws dude." Steve agrees. 
Embarrassed at your own words, you risk glancing at Eddie. You were expecting him to be upset, angry even. That's not the case; he looks impressed. 
"Shit, yeah, I can see that. Didn't know you had it in you sweetheart." 
Smiling to yourself, you stretch your legs and wiggle your feet. You impressed him. Your turn for a smug smile. 
Pretty soon the high starts to settle in; a warmth seeps through your bones and a tingle spreads from your head into your body. It feels like you're quivering whilst sitting still. Steve offers you another beer but you turn it down, well aware that being too foggy right now would be a bad idea. Especially since Eddie has been creeping closer. Now you're side by side, hips so close any time he moves he brushes against you. 
The fire dies down, turning to embers. The beer coat has vanished, leaving you shivering. Steve and Robin are already under a blanket; you can see Robin's eyes are close to closing. 
"You ok there sweetheart? Cold?" 
"I-I'm O-OK." 
"No you aren't, you're shaking." 
Without a further word he's taking off his jacket and putting his arm firmly around you. Whatever space there was between you has melted away, sides now flush. 
You could say the same for your face. This may well be the closest you've been to a boy. Well, a man. He drapes the jacket over the pair of you, covering your crossed legs and his lap, and rubs his hand smoothly up and down your arm to warm you. Little does he know how much he's warming your insides, each stroke sending a buzzing desire through your limbs. 
Steve's chatting away; yet another story about Dustin spilling from his lips when you feel Eddie's other hand snaking underneath the jacket, coming to rest on your thigh. 
Eyes wide, you flick your gaze towards him. 
"What are you doing?" You whisper urgently. 
"Just warming you up sweetheart." 
He says it so sweetly, yet it belies the movements of his hand, moving further up your leg to run soft circles just underneath the hem of your skirt. 
You can't hear a word Steve is saying, unable to concentrate on anything but Eddie's touch and the whooshing blood in your ears. No one had ever touched you like this, not once.  
Robin's shrill voice breaks through the fizzing in your head; once again her and Steve are arguing over something. You might have heard Vickie being mentioned but you can't be sure. 
Eddie's hand trails higher, within reach of your panties. Breath catching in your throat, you mean to admonish him but all that comes out is a breathy noise. 
"Eddie…" 
He rests his chin on your shoulder, hot breath fanning your ear. 
"You want me to stop?" 
You don't answer, you can't. You're frozen, unable to move, unable to make a sound lest a moan escape your lips. 
He wouldn't dare, not with Steve and Robin here, would he?
He would. 
Eddie runs a finger gently down the front of your panties. The softest touch, a whisper of a thing. Then he does it again, up and down, pressing the cotton of your briefs into your private parts. 
You can feel your insides fluttering, a burning settling between your legs, being stoked by every barely there touch. Suddenly, he presses down on something that has you softly whimpering and clenching at nothing. A tingle shoots down your legs to the tips of your toes. 
You hear a small noise; it's Eddie chuckling in his throat. It snaps you out of your frozen state and you move to get up. 
"I'm going to bed guys." 
Standing abruptly, you let Eddie's jacket fall from you as he scrambles to keep it over his own lap. 
You turn to your tent and hear Steve and Robin wish you goodnight, and mumble about going to bed soon too. 
"Night guys!" 
"Want any company sweetheart?" 
There he is, sitting with that arrogant look on his face. 
"Goodnight, Eddie." 
You say it firmly, even though your resolve is as substantial as tissue paper. Stomping over to your tent, you turn on your camp light and sit on your double inflatable bed, hugging your knees. 
Now that you're alone you realise how much that weed affected you. You feel airy, light as a feather, fingers and toes still tingling. 
It must be the drugs. 
You focus on the reality of the situation. You just let some guy touch you down there. Eddie Munson touched you over your panties. 
So why weren't you scared? Or angry at him? It's not like he asked. The fact is that  no one's done anything like that to you before, and it felt incredible. Left you aching for more. That thought was making you more frightened than anything else. 
You listen to the group slowly pad their way off to bed, rustles of clothing, mumbled 'goodnights', and tent zips. 
To the left of your tent was the huge six berth Steve had brought for him and Robin. It was fancy, you assume he 'borrowed' it from his parents. On the cusp of hearing there was bickering. You don't know how Robin and Steve became friends, or how they maintained it since they acted like an old married couple most of the time, but it seemed to work. After a few minutes soft snores echoed from the two of them. 
No sound comes from the other side, where Eddie had pitched a little coffin tent. You wonder if he's still sitting by the dying embers of the fire. He's probably smoking. 
Stop thinking about him.
You undress, only pulling an oversized t-shirt on to sleep in since your big sleeping bag is so warm. You'd bought a double one with your birthday money last year because you hated feeling restricted. It was a luxury but with all the camping you did it just made sense. Snuggling into its spacious depths, you attempt to quiet the raging hormones coursing through your veins. 
God, why is he so annoying and smug? It burned you up, but you couldn't deny how much it turned you on. 
You slide your hand between your legs, pressing hard to try and quench the fire. He did something, you're sure of it. This wasn't natural for you, movements unsure and bordering on clumsy. When you run your finger through your naked folds you whimper, and see how wet you are. Gasping, you explore further, and find that spot, a hidden nub that sends a bolt of lightning to your core. 
"Oh fuck," you breathe out in a moan, starting to rub up and down. 
"You alright in there sweetheart?" 
Oh shit, he's right outside the tent. Was he there the whole time? 
"Yeah, what do you want?" 
"I'm cold, can I come in?" 
No.
"Y-yeah." 
He unzips the tent and enters, crouching to accommodate his height. Closing the tent up, he takes in his surroundings, letting out a low whistle. 
"Pretty sweet set up you've got here, your folks rich or something?" 
"No, I just do a lot of camping with the troop." 
"Huh?" He looks confused, falling to his knees to look you in the eyes. 
"The girl scouts, I volunteer as a leader." 
The laughter that comes from him is loud and rich. 
"Fuck, you got that little innocent act down don't you?" 
It's your turn to look confused. 
"What on earth are you talking about Eddie?" 
He scoffs at you, clearly not buying it. 
"The cute little band geek thing, helping out with girl scouts. Shit, the whole 'can you do that thing again?' " He mimics your words from earlier and you flush crimson. 
"Eddie, I honestly don't know what you're going on about. I never smoked before, I hadn't even had a beer before my 21st last week. I've never even- no one's done what you did, outside." 
Eddie's jaw may as well be on the floor. 
"You're fucking with me." 
You shake your head, lips pressed tight. 
"Well, now I feel like an asshole." He huffs out, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed. 
"Well maybe you should, you never asked." 
"I'm sorry, I just- I thought you were one of those freaky band kids. You kept looking at me like you were gonna eat me alive, I thought I was in for a rough night." He laughs, shooting a gaze at you. 
"Well you thought wrong." You turn your head, arms crossed firmly over your chest. 
"I'll go if you want. Want me to leave?" 
Yes. 
"No." 
A smile spreads slowly across his face, and he inches closer to you on his hands and knees, palms splayed on the foot of your air bed. 
"So, you want me to stay?" 
"No." 
"So… should I sleep in the doorway?"
A fair question, considering your answer. You laugh, looking back at him. His smile is softer, much less mocking. It's sweet almost, sanding down your rough edges. 
"Yeah, you can be my bodyguard. Protect me from bears and mountain lions and stuff." 
He chuckles and climbs over; you lay back on instinct, further away. Leaning right over you, his face is an inch from yours, hair tickling your cheek. 
"You know, I could protect this beautiful body of yours better if I was in the sleeping bag with you." 
"You don't give up, do you?" You whisper into his skin, sounding braver than you felt. 
"It was the sweet and innocent thing, did me in." 
He plants a soft kiss to your cheek, brushing your skin, and another, to the corner of your mouth that makes you shiver. 
"Tell me to stop." 
"Eddie, kiss me." 
His mouth is on your then, hot and heavy, tongue begging at your bottom lip. You give him an inch and he takes a mile, tongue sliding against yours with practised movements. Not expecting the full force of his kiss, you suddenly realise you're moaning into his mouth, hands coming to wind into his loose locks. 
He breaks away, chuckling at the way you chase his lips. 
"You know, you don't kiss like a good girl." 
Merely whining in response, you try to catch your breath. 
"So, can I get in the sleeping bag? I'm freezing out there." 
"Fine, just, no funny business." You point your finger at him, gasping when he licks it long and slow. 
"Nothing you don't want me to do." He winks, and pulls his t-shirt over his head. 
"What are you doing?" 
He ignores you, pulling his socks off and  unbuttoning his jeans. 
"I'm getting undressed. Why, expect me to sleep in my jeans?" 
You merely screw your nose up in response. Stripped down to his boxers, he clambers his lithe body onto the sleeping bag with you, all elbows and knees. Sighing, you move over to accommodate him but he wraps his arms around you. 
"Eddie, what-" 
"I'm cold sweetheart, just, warm me up a little?" 
Your heart is hammering in your ribcage with the realisation that you're entirely out of control of this situation. You allow him to hold you, and hesitantly rest your arm over him. Your head is snuggled into his neck, feeling more comfortable than you had any right to be. 
"Eddie, your legs are freezing." 
"I know! I wasn't lying, my sleeping bag's shitty." 
He pushes his thigh between yours, and you remember a split second too late that you're not wearing any bottoms. Suddenly, his bare thigh is pressed against your naked heat. You're praying to any Gods that might be listening that he doesn't notice, attempting to stay as still as possible. 
He's warming up slowly, but you're stiff as a post, trying not to focus on his thigh and the slight pressure it's putting on your most delicate parts. 
"So, you gonna tell me what you were doing sweetheart?" 
"What?" You whisper into the soft skin of his neck.
"Well, I came out of my tent to see if you were still awake, and imagine my surprise when I heard moaning." 
"N-no, I wasn't!" 
"Quit lying, I can feel your cunt on my leg." 
You nearly choke on your own saliva. 
"Eddie, you can't just say that!"
You hit him on the chest. He just laughs, dragging your little fist to his mouth to kiss it. 
"I can when you're soaking my leg." 
Opening your mouth to respond, all words escape you. Especially when he grinds his thigh against your folds. Instead of words, a whimper breaks from your lips. 
"Yeah? That good sweetheart?" 
The smugness is back, but you can't find it in you to care, not when he rocks his hips and the force of his leg sets loose a roll of pleasure. He's hard, it's pressing into your hip. 
A lean arm curls around you, his thick thumb finding its way to your chin to lift it upwards. You stare into his darkened eyes as they dart to your lips and back up. 
All resolve is dissolved like ash in the rain as you feel the intensity of his stare and the warmth of him between your thighs. You crash your lips to his desperately, hips chasing friction. When his heavy tongue slips into your mouth you respond in kind, needy and vigorous. 
He takes his thigh away and you huff at the loss, but it's not for long, not when that hand of his is stroking down your front, lightly massaging your hardened nipples and chasing down to your stomach. He cups your mound, one finger pushing down on your swollen nub. 
"Eddie." 
It's a whimper, a plea into his open mouth. Responding by biting your bottom lip softly, he dips his finger lower, circling your entrance gently. His finger slips inside then and you clench around it immediately, moaning at the foreign feeling. It's odd, yes, but it's so good that you cry out. 
"Gotta be quiet sweetheart, don't want anyone hearing me fuck you with my fingers." 
His crude words are peppering your insides with fire, the evidence of your arousal seeping out of you. Humming in response, you bite your lip, clinging desperately to his side. 
He slowly pumps his finger in and out, watching your face. You're slick jawed, eyebrows knitted tight, hips rolling with each thrust of his hand. 
"Fuck you're so tight, can barely fit my finger in." 
"Eddie, no one's ever-" 
"Shhh, I fuckin' know sweetheart. Gonna make you feel really good. Just enjoy it." 
He curls his finger inside you, incessantly stroking at something that's making your legs tense up and your insides flutter around him, the heel of his hand flat and hard against that spot again. 
"Oh my God!" You whisper urgently, fingernails digging into his sides. 
"I know baby, feels good yeah?" 
"Uh huh" you manage to breathe out as your eyes squeeze shut. 
The pressure collating in your tummy is building and building as he speeds up, finger reaching deep inside. It releases, and flows from you, wave after wave crashing down and washing away everything but Eddie. 
You muffle your cries of pleasure in the skin of Eddie's chest, resisting the urge to clamp your teeth into his flesh.
As you come down, he releases his digit with a wet sucking sound that probably would have made you embarrassed five minutes ago, but now it's just inconsequential. 
"Still with me?" He asks softly as he hugs you close. 
"Barely" You mumble; he chuckles at your reply. 
He rolls you on top of him, moving your legs so you're straddling him. His hard on is pressing firmly into your privates, your slick dampening the front of his boxers immediately. 
"Eddie, I'm not- I can't have sex with-" 
"Sweetheart, you trust me?" 
Yes. 
"No."
There's that look again, that edge of mocking that isn't making you annoyed anymore, it's making you want to pull his underwear down and slip him inside of you. 
"I'm not gonna fuck you. Not unless you want me to. Relax sweetheart." 
His hands are on your ass, moving you against him to grind on his rock hard bulge. Your eyes widen, the friction so much better than his thigh. 
He lets out a stifled moan, and damn if it isn't the best noise you've heard in your life. 
His hands trail under your shirt as you take over moving against him, feeling the shape of him under you. Tugging at the hem, he looks up at you with pleading eyes. 
"Can I- can I take this off?" 
All feelings of modesty have fled and you whip your shirt over your head and fling it across the tent. 
"Fuck, look at you." 
Leaning forward he takes your nipple into his mouth and rolls his tongue around and around. 
"Eddie, oh Holy fuck!" 
Your movements become faster and sloppy, so he grabs you by the hips to slow you down. 
"You know what I think?" He says, in between wet open mouthed kisses to your breasts, "I think you are a freak. You just didn't know it yet." He chuckles darkly, and sucks hard at one of your nipples. 
Your moan is loud and bordering on pornographic as you rut yourself against him harshly, all pretence of keeping quiet forgotten as your stomach tightens again in thick knots of pleasure. 
"Oh Eddie, I'm- I'm gonna cum oh fuckfuckfuck!" 
It all undoes at once as you release and clench around nothing, pussy throbbing with ecstasy. The bones in your body seem to disintegrate, muscles a distant memory as you flop against him. 
Eddie's not done. 
"Come on sweetheart, just a little longer." 
He encourages your hips to move again as you lay on his chest, skin glowing with perspiration. You can only grunt in response and start grinding against him again, the feeling so intense it has you clenching your teeth with pleasure pain. 
"That's it, fuck, I'm so close. There's my good girl, just, oh shit, little more." 
His praise bubbles through you and you speed up to meet his rutting hips, your slick sticking to the tops of your thighs. 
"Feel so good sweetheart, oh shit!" 
Lifting your head, you do it just in time to watch Eddie's eyes screw shut, mouth panting open with pleasure as he holds your hips in a death grip. His cheeks and neck are flushed, the vein in his neck pulsing. You press your lips to it softly, leaving feather dusted kisses over his neck and jaw as he comes down from his glowing high. 
"Holy shit." He laughs into you, kissing the top of your head over your hair. 
"Indeed" your reply is breathless as you melt into his front, attempting to ignore the stickiness. 
"As much as I'm enjoying you naked on top of me, I need to, er-" He gestures vaguely at himself with one hand. For a minute you think he's just going to go, but instead he wriggles out of the sleeping bag and whips his boxers down. 
You sit back on your heels, mouth agape as he casually cleans his spend with his underwear, wiping at the matted pubic hair. He's big; you could feel him under you but now you're faced with it you fear your eyes may bug out of your head. 
Glancing down, you can see some of his cum escaped its fabric confinement; a few drops glisten on your lower abdomen. Curiosity gets the better of you as you gather it on your fingers to feel the consistency, rubbing it between thumb and forefinger. It's stickier than you thought. You bring your thumb to your mouth and suck the excess off. It's salty, and strange, but not unpleasant exactly. 
When your eyes meet again Eddie looks awestruck, staring at you with the queerest expression on his face. 
Embarrassed at being caught, you hide your hand behind your back as if scolded. 
"Sorry, was that wrong?" 
"No, fuck no," he chuckles, looking away, "just have to stop looking at me like that sweetheart." 
"Why?" 
"Hell, 'cause you're making me hard again." 
"Oh." 
You shyly put your head down and settle back down in the sleeping bag's warmth. To your amazement Eddie gets in with you. 
"What are you doing?" 
"I thought you said I could stay? Or you had enough of me?" 
"N-no, I just… well, you're naked." 
He laughs hard at that. 
"So are you." 
Nothing about this seems to phase him, but your mind is swirling around and around. You'd just had your first orgasms ever, and now you're going to be sleeping naked with a man. With Eddie Munson.  
He's so much warmer now, skin hot to the touch. Hesitantly, you rest your hand on his chest. He pulls you close, picking up your little camp light with the other hand, fiddling with it briefly before offering it to you. 
"Can you switch this thing off?" 
You reach and press the button, plunging you both into darkness. 
"Night sweetheart." 
"Night Eddie." 
********************
Early morning light wakes you, filtering through the tent fabric, coating everything in a warm glow. 
Eddie is still here, laying on his back, snoring softly with you cuddled to his chest. You'd hate to admit it, but you were glad. Glad he didn't run off in the night. Glad that last night had actually happened and wasn't just your over active imagination playing some cruel joke. 
Laying there, feeling the rhythm of his breathing, you take a second to really think. 
What was actually happening? A part of you is frightened; scared that maybe Eddie sees your virginity as a challenge. Maybe that's why he stayed? You were staying another night after all. Or maybe this is a little holiday romance, something to keep him occupied whilst he's away. You'd had one before at band camp; nothing serious, just kisses and cuddles and radio silence on your return. 
What were Robin and Steve going to say? You contemplated waking him up right now to sneak him back to his own tent, but that thought went straight out the window when you caught the sound of their tent being unzipped. 
A soft bash to your tent startles you and makes Eddie snort himself awake. 
"Hey guys I'm making coffee! Come and join us!" 
Robin sings out and walks away to fuss over the fire it sounds like. 
Oh Holy shit balls. Hey guys?? She knew Eddie was here. And if she knew, Steve knew. 
Eddie smirks down at you as you stare at him with wild panic in your eyes. 
"Guess our little secret is out sweetheart." 
Before you can say a word he's unzipping the sleeping bag and fumbling about for his jeans, slipping them clumsily onto his legs. 
"Eddie!" You whisper urgently. He just chuckles. 
"What, want me to cut a hole in the back of the tent? Tunnel out?" 
He's got a point. 
"Eddie, please just don't-" 
"Hey, I ain't one to kiss and tell, relax." 
Before you can say another word he's perching a cigarette in between his plump lips and making his way out of the tent. 
Fuck. 
You pull on your clothes hastily, a skirt and t-shirt, and slide on your sneakers, attempting to untangle some of the messy bed head that had been created during the night. 
It's now or never. 
You exit the tent, attempting to look as casual about it as you can. 
"Morning guys." 
Steve smiles at you. 
"Howdy cowgirl." 
"Hi?" 
You return his greeting, utterly confused, but by the sound of Robin shushing him violently and Eddie coughing on his cigarette you can only assume he meant something by that which went over your head. Robin breaks the tension, talking a mile a minute. 
"Hey sleepy head! You want a coffee? I just made it over the fire. Crazy! I know it took forever. It'll wake you up. Not that you need waking up you're up and about and it's early! It's not like you had a long night. Well you might have how would I know anyway here's your coffee!!" 
Seems you might have gotten a little loud, why else would Robin be breaking the sound barrier? You don't say a thing, just smile gratefully and take your coffee, entirely avoiding Eddie's eyes, and try to wish the blood away from your darkening cheeks. 
"So, we thought we might have a swim in the lake in a couple hours when it's warmer, you in?" 
Steve asks and you nod, aware your voice right now is not to be trusted. 
So, after a little breakfast and small talk about the cold last night, which you put a particular emphasis on to try and explain away your little situation, you all go and change into your swimwear. 
In your tent you lay out your usual one piece, the plain black one you always wear with the troop, and the other set. The bikini you bravely bought but never wore, deeming it far too skimpy for camp. But this wasn't girl scouts. 
God damn he's already seen me naked, come on, be brave. 
Skimpy number it is. You wear it underneath your clothes and grab a towel and a book, readying yourself to join the others. 
Eddie and Steve walk ahead, talking obnoxiously loud; something you're quite glad of. At least they aren't whispering about you. 
Robin walks side by side with you, practically vibrating. 
"Just, whatever you wanna say, say it before you explode." 
The voice that exits her mouth is so high pitched you're surprised dogs didn't start barking. 
"You had sex with Eddie Munson!" 
"I did not!" 
"Totally did, we saw you!" 
You stop in your tracks, mouth hanging open.
"What the fuck Robin!" 
"Sorry, we didn't actually like, see you see you, we saw your shadows, 'cause of the light in your tent." 
"We- I- I mean, we didn't, like, have sex, we just- did something else." You settle at lamely. 
"Are you going to? He really likes you." 
You scoff at that, continuing your walk. 
"He's just trying to get in my pants, take my virginity. I doubt he'll even talk to me after." 
Robin's hand shoots out to grab your arm. 
"Oh, you don't know, do you?" 
Feeling utterly confused, you turn to face her. 
"What are you going on about?" 
"Eddie likes you, he had a crush on you in high school. He was the one that suggested inviting you and nearly killed me when I actually did." 
Your world turns sideways in your mind; everything is upside down, thoughts smashed, memories cut to ribbons in their wake.
"Huh? How- what?" 
"He was telling Steve like a week ago, I was listening in and opened my mouth as per usual. I tried to tell you, remember?" 
You rack your brains trying to come up with answers when a light bulb switches in your head. 
"Hang on, you said Eddie wanted me to go before, didn't you? I honestly thought you were just joking with me, I didn't think he knew who I was!" 
You reach the tree line and see the two boys a little further on, just on the tiny beach leading to the lake, stripping off their clothes. 
"But he was so- so sure of himself!" 
"Oh he's always like that. Pretty sure it's an act, he's actually super sweet when you get to know him." 
You look up and stare at Eddie in his swim shorts. He'd been naked last night, but with the low light and distraction of seeing his privates for the first time you hadn't had the opportunity to really look at him all over. 
He was lean and tall, but there was a broadness to his shoulders and a sinew to his muscles that made him stand out. Tattoos littered his frame, more than you thought he had but the detail was lost at this distance. You were walking closer, still staring at him, when he captures you. Smiling that smug grin of his he holds his arms out as if on display. 
"See something you like sweetheart?" 
On the edge of shying away, you look down; but then you remember Robin's words. He's the one with the crush on you. Feeling a little braver, bolstered by that thought, you walk closer, a couple of feet away from him, and stop. 
"You look really good Eddie." 
Pulling your t-shirt over your head, you smile at Eddie's reaction. Clearly not expecting such a bold move from you, his cheeks and neck are flushed pink. For once he seems speechless. You slip your skirt off and away, kicking it to one side. 
This leaves you in your tiny baby blue triangle bikini, with delicate daisies embroidered on the hem. For once, your cleavage is fully displayed, and the ties for the bottoms ride high on your hips. You slip two fingers under each tied side and pull them up ever so slightly. 
Eddie's eyes dart down and back up again, and you swear you see him swallow thickly in his throat. 
"Well, you swimming or not handsome?" 
Without a further glance you kick your shoes off and wade into the chilly water. 
OK, keep calm, just look at him now. 
Risking a quick peek back, you see him standing gormlessly on the sand, mouth hanging open. He looks so dorky, so unlike the Eddie you've seen so far that you giggle aloud. 
Steve calls out to him, already in the clear water. He's stumbling into the lake after you then as if a fire was lit underneath him. Robin makes her way in too, and pretty sure you're laughing and splashing each other in earnest, the boys taking turns in dunking each other underwater. 
Steve keeps screaming about his hair, which just makes you all laugh that little bit louder. Soon he's moping about it and swims off surprisingly fast. Robin says she wants to dry out and wanders back to the beach to read a little, leaving you and Eddie alone. 
He swims straight to you, bodies a couple of inches apart. Suddenly the water doesn't feel so cold, warmed by the heat he seems to pull from you just by being close. That ache is there again, wanting to be filled by Eddie. You try and shake the thought away. 
"Seems a little skimpy for a scout leader," he says, gesturing at your two piece. 
"Well, I don't wear this one with the troop," you reply, attempting to look blasé about it. 
"So, wore this just for me, sweetheart?" 
You shrug, but know your eyes betray you, honesty etched into the look you give him. 
"You did, didn't you? That's cute," he responds to his own question, reaching a hand up to hold you by the waist. All of a sudden his breath is in your ear, his other hand reaching up to your chest. 
"You look hot by the way, I like the little flowers," as he says it he runs a finger over the hem of your bikini bra making you shudder. 
"Eddie," you whisper, meaning to scold him but it just comes out a little too breathy for that. 
He continues to whisper in your ear, each word sending a butterfly loose in your swirling stomach.  "Wondering if I can stay in that tent of yours again. To stay warm?" 
You laugh, turning to face him. "That's not all you want and you know it." 
"Yeah?" He comes closer, lips so close to brushing yours, holding your chin between thumb and forefinger. You clench your thighs together as your eyes flutter shut. 
"Seems you want more as well," he laughs, pulling back from you. The frown that appears on your face tells him all he needs to know. 
As he moves away, his hand drops down, knuckles dragging slowly over your nipple, already pebbled by the water. 
"Maybe later princess." 
He turns to get out of the water. Furious with how forward he just was you shout after him. 
"Eddie, you are such-" 
"A cocky mother fucker?" He shouts back, stealing your thunder. 
You clench your fists, nearly losing it treading water, and decide to swim away to cool off. 
You're finding Robin's words hard to believe. He still seems so confident; maybe his little chat with Steve was a rouse to get you here so he could tease you. If he has liked you all this time, maybe it's just a sexual thing. Seduce the band geek. 
When the ache between your thighs is lessened by the burning muscles in your arms and legs you swim back to shore and dry off, laying on your towel to read. 
It's like the universe has it in for you today. A few more pages into your fantasy book and suddenly there's a sex scene. Usually, you'd just skim over the 'fruity bits' as your mom called them but now? Now it was as if Eddie had altered your brain chemistry and you found yourself absorbing every word in detail, thighs clenched together almost to the point of pain. 
"What you reading?" 
You jump visibly and look up to see Eddie couching over you, sodden locks leaving pitter patter drips on your legs. 
"Eddie, you're dripping." 
He smiles mischievously. 
"Am I making you wet, sweetheart?" 
You roll your eyes and replace your bookmarker, putting your book down to one side. 
"Yes, Eddie, I'm soaking wet for you." 
Triumph flashes over your features as you take in his wide eyes; so shocked at your reply he's nearly choking on air. 
"You are strange Eddie. You can give it but you can't take it, can you?" 
His eyebrows raise and he attempts to cover his flustered appearance. 
"I'm just surprised, I thought you were a good girl." 
Ignoring your heart thumping hard in your chest at those words, you shrug. 
"And here I was thinking it was because you've had a crush on me since high school." 
Eddie opens his mouth, and promptly closes it. When he speaks again it's quieter, almost like he's embarrassed. 
"Who- how did-" 
"Robin." 
"Of course." 
He stares at you then, all bravado gone. A moment passes where you both try and work out what this means, what the other is thinking.
Eddie coughs and stands up, breaking the spell. 
"We're heading back to have lunch, if you wanna come." 
He walks off then, not a further glance at you. Wondering if you upset him somehow, you gather your things and head back to camp. 
********************
Later that evening, you're huddled around a campfire again having a couple of beers; or, in the case of Steve, several beers. Eddie had been civil, nice even, but there was no edge to him right now. You're not sure if you miss it or not, realising that you had actually grown fond of the push and pull between you, and that grin of his. 
He'd disappeared at one point, and returned a little later with his acoustic guitar; beginning playing a little aimlessly, just background music to your tiny circle. He played beautifully; it really was mesmerising to watch his fingers dance over the strings. 
"Play me a song, Eddie." You say, before you realise you were saying it aloud. 
"Yeah?" He flashes a small smile and you encourage him by placing your hand on his knee. 
"OK, just for you then sweetheart." 
He breaks into a rendition of Should I Stay Or Should I Go, by the Clash. You're almost certain it's a jab at you because of last night and your failure to make your mind up. You don't mind; listening to the rest of the lyrics you realise you're hoping he means more than just a little in-joke. If you say that you are mine, I'll be here till the end of time.
When he finishes you all clap, Robin as quickly as a bird's wings flutters, and Steve just a little too loudly, probably due to too much alcohol. 
"Thank you Eddie, that was brilliant." You smile softly at him. 
"No problem sweets." He moves to put the guitar away but you wave your arm at him. 
"Can I play something?" 
A sharp intake of breath rings out from Steve and Robin but you pay it no mind. Eddie looks at you like he's sizing you up. Seems he comes to the conclusion that you aren't just going to pull some rockstar move and smash it on the ground, he passes it to you carefully. 
You take it reverently in your hands and get comfortable with it, tuning the G string slightly as it was a little off when you heard it. 
An idea springs to mind and you grin deviously to Robin over the fire, a grin which is reciprocated. She knows what you're about to do. The Band Camp thing.
You start to play the very beginning of a song extremely loudly, singly wildly off key.
"Kumbaya, my Lord-" 
"Don't you fuckin' dare!" Eddie shouts, lurching a hand toward you to clamp over the fret. 
"I'm kidding!" You giggle, prying his fingers away. Robin's laughing and Steve looks like he's about to burst, swaying in his seat. 
"OK, no funny business." 
"Not unless you ask for it." You wink, and start to play what you had intended all along. 
"One pill makes you larger
And one pill makes you small
And the ones that mother gives you
Don't do anything at all…"
You lose yourself in the song, the melody. When you were younger you had just assumed it was nothing but a song about Alice in Wonderland. You knew better now, but it was fun to play and it suited your voice. 
As you came to the conclusion your eyes fluttered shut and you sang out the last couple of lines like no one was even there. 
"Remember what the dormouse said
Feed your head
Feed your head!"
Whooping and clapping finally reaches your ears as you open your eyes. Robin is going insane; Steve is shouting but it sounds slurred. Eddie just looks stunned as you pass his precious guitar back to him.
"You're incredible sweetheart." He looks genuinely impressed, staring at you with such intensity it makes you squirm. 
"It was OK, my strumming's a little sloppy." 
"But your voice! Jesus Christ, I've got goosebumps. You should sing, like, all the time." 
You laugh, swatting him with your hand. 
"I think that might get a little annoying." 
"I'd love to listen to it all the time." 
The sweet moment is broken by Robin gagging loudly. 
"Munson that was so cheesy I'm gonna hurl." 
He just shrugs, unbothered, and puts his guitar away. You didn't think it was too cheesy. In fact, you're breathless, thoughtless. The ache was settling back in, so deep in your bones there was no willing it away. It was clear; you needed him. Biblically. 
As that realisation hits you like a ton of bricks, a soft thud breaks through to you. Steve has fallen backwards, already snoring. 
"Well, looks like he needs to go to bed. Give me a hand guys." 
Eddie stands up and lifts Steve bodily round his waist. Robin and you hover nearby, but he doesn't need your help after all. 
Steve's giggling childishly, slurring words together. 
"Don' wanna go bed, wan' sing too!" 
"Sing in the morning, big guy." 
You help Robin tuck him into his sleeping bag, as Steve mumbles Kumbaya under his breath. 
Robin huffs. "I'll take it from here," and quieter, just to you, she whispers, "I'm putting earplugs in, go have fun." 
"Robin, I-" 
"Shhh you'll wake the baby. Just go, go!" 
You leave the tent and see Eddie sitting by the fire, rolling a joint. 
"Erm, Robin's going to bed too." 
"Oh?" He looks at you, quirking one eyebrow. "Are you?" 
"I'm not tired." 
That shit-eating grin of his is back, tugging at the corners of his mouth slowly. 
You sit down, right next to him, knees touching. He finishes rolling, licking it closed with a pointed tongue you can't help but stare at. 
As he starts smoking, you finally let loose what's been on your mind all day. 
"Why did you act funny with me? After I said you have a crush?" 
He huffs a little laugh, blowing smoke through his nose. 
"I thought that was obvious. I was embarrassed." 
"Really? I didn't know Eddie Munson could get embarrassed." 
He takes another drag and looks away. 
"Yeah, well it happens. I don't like people knowing too much about me. Rather come across as mean and scary and-" 
"-cocky?" 
"Ha, yeah." 
It's quiet again, but not a loaded quiet. You feel comfortable, almost enjoying the silence; just the slight rustle of pine needles in the breeze, and an owl hooting far away. 
"You want some of this?" 
Eddie's touch pulls you back to the moment, rough fingertips grazing you. The touch burns again, but differently this time. This time you melt under it. 
"Can you, do that thing?" You ask in a small voice. 
He smiles wickedly, straightening his legs out. 
"Come here" He says as he pats his lap. You straddle him awkwardly, not sure if this is what he meant, but a firm hand grabs you by the ass and shifts you closer to him so your chests are flush. 
"Like this?" You ask quietly, breathing the question. 
"Just like that baby." 
He takes a long toke and beckons you forward with one finger. When you're in range, nose lightly brushing his, he brings your chin toward him with one firm hand and presses his lips to your mouth. 
Stiffening with surprise, you quickly soften, disarmed by his lips. You part yours and he breathes the smoke into you, allowing you to inhale deeply. Breaking away, you exhale the smoke downwards and look into his deep eyes. 
"Do it again." 
He bites his lip and smiles, flashing his teeth. He repeats the gesture; taking a pull, smashing his lips to yours and breathing into you. He doesn't let you pull away to breathe out; instead he presses his tongue into your mouth. Smoke burns your nose as you submit to him, the kiss becoming filthy and desperate as he grips onto the flesh of your ass. 
Finally he lets up, if only to breathe. You're both panting, electricity in the air passing between and through you. 
"I like it like that." You smile, hand resting on his chest. 
"You keep surprising me sweetheart." He responds, hands kneading at the flesh of your hips. 
A fuzziness rushes through every nerve, all of your body crying out, singing for him. 
"You know, I don't mind cocky Eddie." 
"Yeah? I thought I annoyed you." 
"A little. But it kinda turns me on." You respond, rolling your hips into him.
"Oh fuck sweetheart," he roughly grips you, forcing you to do it again, "you drive me fuckin' crazy." 
He's on your neck, kissing and licking at you almost tenderly. 
"Eddie, please," you whisper, mind abandoning any clarity as he kisses you. 
"Please? What do you need, sweetheart?" 
How can you answer? What do you need?
"Eddie, I-I need you, please," you whisper into his ear, rocking against his hardening bulge. 
He bites down on your neck, eliciting a gasp to spill from your lips. 
"Tent." Is all he manages to say, and you stumble upwards on wobbly legs, to lead him to it. 
Fumbling for the zip, you just about get inside it when you feel his hands on you gently pushing you forward. A small touch is all it takes and you're falling onto the air bed, knees bending as you collapse face forward. 
He's on your back before you can think, firm arms caging you in from behind. 
"You need me? Really?" 
You nod, squirming underneath him, a small hand curling around his forearm. 
"Dreamed about you saying that, fuck." He whispers, lips pressing to your shoulder, "turn around." 
You can't find it in you to not comply. Wobbling the mattress, you twist to face him, engulfed in the intensity of his stare, illuminated by the fading light emanating from the fire. 
"Say it again." It's soft, but ironclad in the centre. 
"I need you Eddie." 
"Fuck" He huffs, moving down your torso, pulling your t-shirt up so it kisses the edge of your breasts. He looks up at you with pleading eyes; a look that turns your insides to mush. 
"Can you turn the light on? I need to see you." 
He sounds so desperate, so in need that you waste no time in grabbing your camp light and switching it on, bathing you both in cool white light. 
As he's pulling your top up, you assist and pull it over your head, flinging it to a corner. 
"You are really beautiful." He says, drinking you in with his eyes, as a calloused hand strokes between the valley of your breasts. You slide under his confident touches, getting more anxious by the minute. 
"Can I taste you?" 
You nod, and he unbuttons your skirt, pulling your panties down with a roughness that makes you flinch. You're entirely exposed. 
"I've wanted this, wanted you, for a long time." 
You wriggle underneath him, and reply. "Didn't you get me like this last night?" 
"This," he says, gesturing to your revealed flesh, "this is different." 
You don't quite get it and want him to explain further, but his lips are on your nipples and all that comes out of you is a heady moan. A firm knee pushes your thighs apart and you bend to his will, allowing him to kiss down, and down, leaving hot pressured mouth trails to your stomach. 
When his lips meet the tops of your thighs you cry out his name. 
He understands, slipping his tongue between your folds and licking at your clit with pointed precision. 
"Oh fuck!" 
A chuckle emanates from his throat as he doubles his efforts, flicking and suckling at you in earnest. Thick fingers tease your entrance and one slides into your glistening opening, pumping slowly. 
It shocks through your body, setting loose tendrils of pleasure so profound it's almost a religious experience. He prods another finger at you, sliding it next to the first and it burns, making you hiss. 
Eddie mumbles platitudes into your pussy, telling you how good a job you're doing, how proud he is, how you're a good girl. His good girl. 
The tension is unbelievable, clenching every muscle as your breath comes in short pants.
"That's it sweetheart, sing for me." 
The fingers curl, stroking something incessantly inside you that rips a sultry groan from deep within your chest cavity, and without further warning your orgasm washes through. It collects and expands, a force of nature that flies out and collides like stars in the universe.
Your back falls to the air mattress, and that's the only signal you have that it ever left. You feel soaked in your own juices, thighs uncomfortably wet. 
Eddie hovers over your face. You're not quite sure when he got there. 
"That OK sweetheart?" 
You don't reply, you can't. Your response can only be carnal, feeding into the biting, gnawing need that still refuses to lessen its grip on your core. Bringing shaking hands upward, you wind them into his hair and pull his face forcefully towards yours, tongue slipping in to taste your slick in his mouth, groaning at the tangy sweet flavour. 
He collapses against you, full weight of his lithe body pressed into yours, but it's not enough. Pulling away and leaving less than an inch of space you voice your frustration. 
"Eddie, please, I- I want you. I want you inside me, please." 
Eddie shakes his head for a second, then deep brown eyes seek yours for any doubt, and come up empty. 
"Are you sure sweetheart?" 
The nod you reciprocate with is painfully fast, hurting the muscles of your neck. He looks uncertain, but discards his clothes, kneeling in front of you in his boxer shorts. 
"I need you to be sure. I can't give it back." 
You let your legs fall further apart, giving him the view of you open and ready for him. 
"Please." 
Underwear has never been discarded quicker. He has his cock in his hand, sliding on a condom from his crumpled jeans at record speed. A second later and he's towering over you, nose brushing yours and dick lined up to your sopping entrance. 
His tip breaches you, so much thicker than his fingers, and you wince. You can tell he's trying to be careful, pushing into you slowly, watching for any signs you want to stop. 
You're so full, and he just keeps going. A moment later and you let out a little startled cry as a sharp pain shoots from deep inside. 
"You OK sweetheart?" He stops his movements, staring at your face with a worried expression. 
"I'm fine, just, go all the way" you manage through gritted teeth. 
He slips the last of it deep, deep inside as you yelp at the suddenness. Then, he's still, grabbing your hand and entwining your fingers with his over your head, his other arm holding him perfectly motionless above you. 
"That's it, you're OK, so fuckin' tight, fuck," he says to you, kissing your cheek. It burns, the feel of him, but a fullness is beginning to overtake that ache. 
"You know, I thought you were afraid of me in high school." He half laughs, kissing the tip of your nose. It's such a sweet gesture from the so-called frightening man that you giggle a little too. 
"I was," you admit, staring into his deep eyes.
"Then, we come here and you look like you're gonna eat me alive. Then, you're all innocent, and now… fuck, I can't keep up." 
You appreciate what he's doing, talking to you, distracting you from the pain. It helps; it's settled into a dull throb and your need from him is outranking it. 
"Eddie, you can move." 
With a peck to your lips he pulls out a little and thrusts back in, setting a slow and steady pace. 
This is so much better than his hands, or his tongue. On every thrust he's massaging at something that makes you moan, again and again. 
"You're doing real good sweetheart, my good fuckin' girl." 
All of a sudden you feel it, all of it. His lean weight comforting over you, the squeeze of his fingers in yours, the throb of his member inside you, his words. It's all too much. Your eyes gloss over and a tear works its way down your temple. 
"Oh shit, you want me to-" He starts as he slows down a little. 
"Don't you fucking dare, please, please, I-I need-" 
He grins at you; that self satisfied look that turns your legs to jelly. 
"What do you need, sweetheart? Whatever you want, I'll give it to you." 
"Harder Eddie, oh God!" 
He snaps his hips into you with much more force; once, twice, three times and you scream his name, pussy clenching him hard, every muscle tense. As everything unravels you go limp, whimpering at the pulse that you can feel pounding in your core. 
When your eyes finally decide to open, he's leaving kisses as light as a butterfly's wings on your cheek. 
"Woah," is all you can say, between breathless giggles. Tears are falling but you don't care enough to wipe them away. 
Eddie unlatches his hand from yours and does it himself. 
"That was so hot. You need to do that again," he whispers, beginning to grind into you slowly.
"I nearly died Eddie, it might finish me off!" 
He laughs back, but doesn't quit; hips still driving into you leisurely. 
"What's life without a little risk?" 
You stare up at him, biting your lip, a question on the tip of your tongue that you're too nervous to ask. 
"What is it?" He asks, brow furrowed, as if you were about to ask him to stop. 
"Can I… wait, don't worry." 
He does stop then, to put his hand to your face and stroke you with his thumb.
"Hey hey hey, come on, what baby?" 
You whisper it quietly, voice small and second guessing. 
"Can I try, erm, being on top?" 
You're surprised that Eddie's face didn't split in half from the sheer wideness of his grin. 
"Holy shit, yes, please." 
He winds his arms underneath your frame and flips you so fast your vision blurs, until he's underneath you. You sit up, his cock still buried within, and you gasp at the new angle. 
"Eddie, Jesus Christ!" 
Palms splayed on his chest, you control your breathing a little. This angle is devastating, pressing harshly against that place inside that has you throbbing around him. 
Eddie chuckles darkly as his hands slide over the flesh of your thighs, rubbing back and forth, until they work their way to your hips and pull you up ever so slightly, only to drop you back down again. 
"Just like that sweetheart, 'Kay?" 
He tilts his head to one side, that mocking tone fuelling the embers of your desire. Rising up on shaky knees you pull off him and slide back down, trying to find some semblance of rhythm. Your clit grazes his pubic hair on one pass and you nearly lose it completely, the feeling sending a bolt of pure pleasure up your spine. 
"Oh my God!" 
"Yeah? That good?" 
You hum and nod, words escaping you, now rolling your hips on each bounce to get that sensation over and over. 
Eddie's talking now, watching how much you writhe and whine at his words. 
"That's it sweetheart. Wanting to- oh fuck- ride me, on your first time. Oh yes, fuck, just like that- dirty, my dirty fuckin' girl." 
"Eddie, oh God, can you, fuck, please-" 
"What is it sweetheart? Anything, you can have anything." 
His words embolden you, and before you can hesitate your hands are gripping one of his and leading it to your throat. You're not sure why, but you know deep in your core that you need it. 
Eddie looks shocked by your moments but quickly recovers, fingers slotting around your throat, squeezing lightly at the sides. 
Speeding up, feeling the pressure of his hand on your windpipe, you throw your body into each movement. 
"Fuck Eddie, harder!" 
He squeezes and you let go of everything, breath leaving you. All composure, all thought. It's just you and Eddie, and his hand, and his cock. Screaming aloud, you fold almost double, collapsing into him with a shocked, delicate whimper. 
His fingers relinquish their firm grip, coming to rest on the back of your head in a comforting, tender hold. 
"I was right, you are a freak." 
Laughing aloud, you have just enough bones left in your neck to lift it ever so slightly. He looks surprised, sure, and really aroused, judging by his hooded gaze. 
"Are you not… done?" You ask, as you feel his impossibly hard length still throbbing inside you. 
"What can I say, I've got stamina." 
That smug face is back, a flash of canines and confidence. You'd roll your eyes if it wasn't so sexy. 
No time for a witty comeback though, as he holds you close to him and thrusts upwards with abandon. Colours swirl in your vision as you try to stay attached to reality, focusing on the feel of his skin, the pounding of his rhythm, and the light in his eyes. 
"Fuck I'm close, I'm so fuckin' close. You're, oh shit, so- oh God, can't believe you're letting me do this." 
Slack jawed and practically dribbling, you let him use you to chase his own release, trying to weakly meet his thrusts. A pulse deep inside is brought to your attention, and it's not yours. Looking at his face, you watch it awash with ecstasy as he holds you tightly and throbs his climax out. 
His muscles melt, holding you still but so loosely that the lack of pressure surprises you, as if you were only aware of how tight his grip had been at this very moment. 
The only sounds are the nightlife of insects around the tent, and panting, heaving breaths. Sliding off of him in an organic gesture, you curl up into his arms, finally feeling sated and at ease. 
Lips are pressed into the top of your head, kissing you over your hair. No words are spoken; none need to be. For a shining moment, this is all you need. To be held, and cared for. 
Minutes go by, and your eyelids begin to feel heavy. Before you drift off, Eddie breaks the spell cast over both of you. 
"Was that OK princess?" 
"That was incredible Eddie." 
He kisses the top of your head again, then seems to remember himself. 
"Fuck sweetheart, just, stay right there." 
Clambering to his feet he pulls the condom off, tying it in a knot and discarding it into a corner to be thought of later. He's back then, spreading your legs. 
'Eddie, you can't just-" 
"I'm just looking after you sweetheart. You got some tissues or something?"
Furrowing your brows, you point to your wash bag near the foot of the sleeping bag. He paws through it wordlessly, and brings out some tissues and wet wipes. 
"Sweetheart I'm so sorry." 
"What's wrong?" You ask, panic riding your words. 
"I've made you bleed." Eddie looks crushed, so upset at your prior pain, anguish etched into his face. 
"It's OK Eddie, it's normal." 
"You should have said. I'm so sorry." 
You laugh a little, touched by his concern. 
"I didn't know! It's alright, it doesn't hurt now." 
Placated slightly by your answer, he cleans you both up as well as he can, before slipping into the sleeping bag with you. 
A thousand questions perch on the edge of your tongue, but it's so warm, so cosy and right, that your body denies all words for a moment. 
When you feel capable of speech you look up at him. 
"Stamina, huh?" 
He flushes, looking down at your smiling face. 
"I may have tactically jerked off beforehand."
"When??" You giggle, fingers flirting over his exposed chest. 
"When I went to get my guitar." 
"Eddie, how did you know that-" 
"OK, OK!" He grabs your hand, kissing your knuckles before hiding behind it, "I didn't know, not for sure. You just looked so good in that little two piece, I couldn't hold it in." 
"Perv," you respond, but your eyes are soft. 
"Yep." 
Giggling, you slip into a calm, contented sleep in his arms.
********************
You wake up a little later than intended, no doubt exhausted from last night. The tent feels empty. Upon realising that Eddie's missing a dread settles in your stomach. Bile rises as you sling some clothes on. Maybe he's had his way with you and that's it.
Exiting the tent, you see he's just by the fire, trying to get it going again, a cigarette dangling from his pouting lips. 
"Oh would you just- come on!" He says as he angrily flicks his lighter, trying to get the wood to catch. 
You smile, relief washing over you, and walk over to help. 
"I'm begging, come on- oh, sweetheart," he looks a little sheepish as he speaks to you, mumbling around his cigarette. "I was gonna make you coffee and bring it to you but the damn fire won't start." 
You giggle, and rearrange the little pile, adding a few twists of paper to the base, and hold your hand out to him. He looks at you blankly for a second, then comes to his senses, placing the lighter in your palm. 
With one stroke the papers alight, and starting to catch the rest of the twigs. The couple of logs won't take long to catch. 
"Witchcraft." 
"Nope, just girl scouts." 
"You can go back in the tent if you want, I'll make you a drink." 
"Eddie?" 
"Huh?" He turns to you, pot of water in his hand. 
"Good morning." You smile shyly at him. He grins, placing the pot on the ground and stubbing out his cigarette. Strong arms slot their way around your waist and you fling your arms around his neck, grinning stupidly at each other. 
"Good morning. Good night?" It's framed as a question, and you know what he's getting at. 
"Great night." 
Smiling wider, he presses a kiss to your forehead. Puckering your lips to ask for a proper kiss, you hear a very loud cough. 
"Good morning love birds." Robin wiggles her eyebrows at you both. You move to break away from Eddie, but he steals a kiss anyway, and pulls you close to his side, arm firmly around you. 
"Is Steve alive?" He asks, looking at Robin. 
"Well, he got up in the night to throw up, just glad he didn't do it in the tent. He's dead to the world right now. He's been singing in his sleep you know. Nearly suffocated him with a pillow." 
You both laugh at that, and then hear a loud groan from the tent. 
Eddie glances at you with mischief and shouts out towards Steve's tent.
"Harrington! Wanna sing for us, big guy?" 
"Urgh." Is the only reply. Robin rolls her eyes and busies herself with the fire. 
After a while, the coffees are ready; you all attempt to rouse Steve but he's gone back to sleep, groaning whenever you call out to him. 
Then, it's just the sad business of taking down your tent. There's a special kind of melancholy reserved for such an occasion; pretty soon there's no sign at all that it was ever there. Afraid that your memories, your feelings, about last night would fade too, you walk over to Eddie who is perched on a stump fitting the last of his things in a bag. 
"Eddie?" 
"Yeah sweetheart?" He asks, still fumbling with his bag. 
Do you still like me? Do you want to see me after this? Was this all a dream?
"Can I get a ride back with you? Steve and Robin are gonna be a while." 
You gesture over to where Steve had finally emerged, whining and packing his stuff, tent still upright. 
"Sure, anything you need." He flashes a tight lipped smile and reaches to grasp your hand briefly. 
The ride back to town with him is chatty, even if it's only surface level stuff. Your rendition of White Rabbit had him fumbling around the glove compartment and pulling out a few older classic rock tapes that you happily listened to; music was a big part of your life, at least you both had that in common. His eyes light up whenever you talk about a band or song that he likes too, gesturing so emphatically with his hand you have to remind him to look at the road. 
Pretty soon you're pulling up to a crossroads, except Eddie pulls over instead. 
"What's wrong?" 
He huffs, smiling at you sadly. 
"If I keep driving forward I've got to say goodbye to you, take you home," he admits. Your heart flutters at the admission. 
"Where do you live, Eddie?" He looks confused, but points to the left turning. 
"Eddie, turn left." 
"Really?" 
"Really. I was supposed to stay at Robin's tonight anyway." 
His grin is downright manic as he pulls back on the road, making short work of the drive to his trailer. 
He bundles you out of the van and opens the trailer door, both of your bags heaved over one of his shoulders. 
The sight of an older gentleman startles you as he potters around the kitchen area. 
"Hey! This is Wayne, my Uncle. Wayne, this is my girlfriend." 
Your eyes widen as he gives your name to his uncle and you shake hands with him, the roughest hand you think you've ever touched, but the softest grip. 
"Pleasure to meet you, miss. I'm heading out today, so I'll see you two later I'm guessing." 
He waves and smiles fondly at the pair of you, and leaves. 
"Sorry, thought he would've left already." He explains, pulling you both to the back of the trailer and into what you assume is his room. 
Allowing yourself to be led, still feeling shell shocked, you perch on the edge of his bed as he dumps the bags on the floor. 
Eddie's talking, saying how he wishes he tidied before he left, how the trailer's not much but it's home, and his uncle…
"Eddie, wait." 
He stops mid flow to look at you. 
"Girlfriend?" 
"Well yeah? I mean, if you want to. I didn't ask, did I?" He flushes pink, hand reaching up to nibble at his thumb. 
"I mean, you don't know me, really." You shrink, almost folding in on yourself. 
"Hey," he sits down next to you, stroking your jaw with his finger, "I know enough. And I let you touch my guitar. We're practically married now." 
Lips press softly to yours, a delicate touch that has all tension flying from your body in a rush. 
"Eddie…" You whisper, giving him a butterfly kiss with the tip of your nose. 
"Hmm?" 
"You smell really bad." 
He laughs and grabs you around the waist, pulling you down sharply to lay on the bed. 
"So do you." 
"A point well made." A response, but you don't move, snuggling deeper into his neck. 
"So, I've got an idea. Let's have showers, get into some comfy stuff, and cuddle. Probably got a movie or two we can watch?" 
The normalcy of the situation is surprising, but most welcome. 
Smiling wickedly, you nip at his neck and whisper in his ear. 
"One condition: we shower together." 
He groans loudly, hands stroking at any skin he can reach. 
"Fuuuck, sweetheart, I've created a monster." 
You laugh, and hold him tightly. Eddie Munson isn't so scary, after all.
Taglist (just some people I thought might like this, hope you don't mind!)
@eddiesprincess86 @zestychili @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @roanniom @usedtobecooler @josephquinnsfreckles @eddiemunsonfuxks
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cheesewritings · 1 year
Text
Eddie Munson would be that husband that annoyingly hits on his wife in a bar and when a stranger asks if he’s bothering her she responds with “yeah but I chose to marry him” or something along those lines.
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cherrycolored-punk · 1 month
Text
Muse
pairings: artist!Eddie x fem!reader
author’s note: re-posting, originally posted on my previous blog @strangemagicc 🖤 this was going to be a series but for now this is a standalone blurb until inspo strikes
warnings: smutty smut smut, unprotected sex, fingering, oral (Eddie and reader receiving), slight praise kink, let me know if I missed anything!
w/c: 5.6k
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The room was cold, the walls white, a little medicinal. Light cascaded through the windows, hues of tangerine and gold creating a warmth against the expanse of your exposed flesh.
Your head rested against your shoulder, arms pressed into the wooden stage below you, legs posed to the side elongating your body. You could feel their eyes on you, pensive and concentrated but you focused your gaze on the wall behind them. Studied the cracks in the plaster and the splatters of paint from classes before.
The minutes ticked by, slow and tedious. You shifted your gaze to the left, eyes meeting intense chestnut. He smiled at you, small and polite before looking back at his canvas. Lines formed on his forehead, eyebrows raised high as he captured the curve of your waist and the flare of your hips. He was handsome, conspicuously so. Curly auburn hair tied into a low bun, black t-shirt clinging to the muscle of his tattooed arms.
A walking canvas, perfect lines and shadows.
Heat rose to your chest, blossomed in your cheeks and your breathing became more shallow.
Your eyes darted away from him, back to the wall behind him and you remained focused refusing to linger a moment longer on the curve of his jaw or the cluster of freckles on his nose. Worried that he’d noticed you noticing him. Because you had noticed him plenty of times. On campus and in class. Sitting in the back of your art history sketching in his journal as the professor droned on and the minutes ticked by slowly. Sometimes he’d catch you staring, give you a smirk or a small wave to let you know that weren’t as inconspicuous as you thought. Each time heat would rise to your cheeks, eyes darting away. And you would be embarrassed if you hadn’t caught him just as fixated, just as hypnotized.
A timer began to beep alerting the class that you were due for a break, that your pose would change once you returned. You pushed off your hands, stretched your shoulders, and rolled your wrists before grabbing for your robe. The plush fabric was a welcomed comfort, cotton soft against your skin.
Students talked amongst themselves, reviewing each other’s work, their creations of you but no one spoke directly to you.
Over the last few months, you began modeling for the figure art class to make a few extra bucks, to make your way through college, and to get your own art degree.
At first, it was awkward, you were unsure of yourself and how to place your body. Uncomfortable having everyone’s eyes on you for an hour, studying the flesh of your stomach and the stretch marks on the curve of your ass. But it became easier, almost second nature to be bare in front of mostly strangers.
You continued stretching your neck as you walked towards your bag for a snack hidden in the depths of your purse. You needed something, your hunger nearly loud enough for those around you to notice. The granola bar was sweet against your lips, apple and cinnamon. A little stale from sitting in your cabinet too long. Still, you hummed as you devoured it, eyes closed and savoring each bite.
“That should be your next pose,” a deep voice stated from above you. You opened your eyes, chocolate brown looking back at you with a smirk. A whisper of a dimple on his cheek.
“What would you call it? Glutton?” You joked back, taking another bite to cover the way your breath hitched when you got a whiff of his cologne.
“Hmm, I was thinking ecstasy. Something about how your eyes roll whenever you take a bite seems fitting.” You chuckled at his words, heat blossoming in your chest at his sentiment.
Ecstasy.
He popped a grape into his mouth from the bag he was holding, thumb lingering on his lips as he eyed you. A mischievous glint in his eye.
“I’m Eddie, by the way,” he wiped his hand before reaching it out to shake yours, your eyebrows meeting with a crease at the gesture. Seemed a little formal after he’d already seen you naked. But still, you slipped your small hand into his much larger one, felt the calluses on his fingers and the ones against his palm as you introduced yourself. He smiled and repeated your name with a nod, your hand lingering in his as the two of you stared at each other in silence. You shook your head, a little dazed as though he had put a spell on you.
“Aren’t you in my art history class?” Eddie pushed a hand into his pocket and leaned back on his heels as he made small conversation.
“With Professor Blake?” You tilted your head watching as his eyes wandered down your frame and back again.
“Yeah, that guy. Always has a coffee stain somewhere.” You nodded along with his description, watched as he talked with his hands making gestures as he spoke mimicking Professor Blake’s mannerisms and the dribble of coffee he always had.
“That would be him,” you giggled again, wadding up the wrapper to your granola bar.
“How are you liking the class?”
“Something about art history makes me want to stab myself in the eye but otherwise it’s fine. Blubbering Blake makes it pretty entertaining, classmates are pretty cute,” he mused and kept his eyes trained on you.
Your gaze fluttered, an abashed smile found a home on your lips. You cleared your throat as you tried to formulate a response.
“I think it would be more fun if we spent more time looking at the art while we listened to them drabble on. More than just slides y’know? I like to be immersed in it.” As though that weren’t obvious by your lack of clothes moments ago. Your nerves were ignited making you antsy, a little bit of a rambling mess.
“I feel the same way,” he gave you a thoughtful nod, “You can only see or understand so much from a lecture and it’s usually all from a PowerPoint anyways,” he shrugged, gaze lingering on yours. He was unabashed with his staring, the way his gaze wandered over the length of you.
“You know what I’m really excited to see?” He nodded for you to continue, crossing his arms as he listened. Your enthusiasm was evident, wide eyes and a huge smile.
“Yayoi Kusama, her exhibit is going to be in Philly.” His gaze changed, excitement building at your words.
“Seriously? Holy shit, I have to see that. I’ve been following her work for a while,”
“Well if you’re interested, I have an extra ticket for tomorrow. My friend bailed on me.”
Your date had bailed but he didn’t need to know that. You shrugged your shoulder nonchalantly as if he wasn’t a stranger. As if this wasn’t your first conversation and you weren’t asking him to go out. As if you weren’t dying to end the night with him in your bed. 
“Fuck yeah, I’m interested,” he nodded his head enthusiastically.
“Great,” you beamed, “it starts at eight if you want to meet there?” Eddie shook his head.
“Absolutely not, I’m picking you up. We can get dinner after.”
“This is sounding a little like a date, Eddie.” You teased him to hide the nervous butterflies that were unraveling at your center.
“I hope so,” he smiled at you fully, one you couldn’t help but return.
The alarm went off letting you know that your break was over, that it was time for your final pose.
“Dinner sounds great,” you whispered over your shoulder as you walked back towards the makeshift stage and dropped your robe. Eddie shot you a wink, dimpled grin on full display as his gaze traveled over you.
———————————
You clawed through your closet for the better part of an hour, your bedroom littered with rejects as you examined your reflection in the mirror.
The black fabric of the short corduroy dress you’d decided on hugged you, accentuating the curve of your hips and ass. Your cleavage pressed into the fabric, the top button hanging on for dear life. You paired it with sheer black tights, a leather blazer, mary jane pumps, and a daring red lip. A little pop of color.
You shook out your hair, teasing it with your hands for a little volume before sliding on your gold necklace and matching hoops. You felt cute, a little hot even, and winked at yourself in the mirror laughing at your own cringe before checking your texts to see one from Eddie that said he was on his way.
Excitement filled you, a motley crew of butterflies swarming your abdomen as you anticipated his arrival and thought over your conversation, exchanging numbers after the class had ended. You’d thought about it since the day before, going about your routine with a little hum, a small smile and now the moment was here.
Eddie knocked at the door softly and straightened out his appearance as he waited for you.
You smoothed out the lines of your dress, fixed your cleavage, and looked at your reflection in the hall mirror one last time before answering.
His eyes widened, jaw slack as he looked at you. You were equally off guard, admiring his simple black button-down paired with black jeans that accentuated the curve of his thighs. He wore rings on either hand, big and intimidating. His hair hung at his shoulders instead of the bun you saw him in yesterday, a small chain tucked into his shirt. Eddie smelled like bergamot and sage, a hint of cinnamon from the gum he had been chewing.
“Y-you look stunning,” he stammered, blinking rapidly as he finally looked into your eyes. You melted under his gaze, flattered was too small of a word to describe how you felt under the intensity of his regard.
“You look pretty handsome yourself,” you complimented, slightly entranced by the smell of his cologne.
“Flattery will get you anything, sweetheart,” he chuckled, hiding the redness of his cheeks as the two of you walked out of your apartment building. His hand stayed at the small of your back, guiding you through the maze of hallways, down the elevator, and out the front door.
The fall night was chilly, a gentle breeze biting at your skin and you tucked yourself further into your blazer.
“Are you okay taking my motorcycle? If not I can get us a Lyft. I didn’t realize until I was on my way that I hadn’t mentioned it when I insisted on picking you up.” He grimaced.
“Let’s take your bike,” you assured him with a smile as the two of you walked in step. His bike was parked near your building, matte black and sleek. You let out a low whistle and walked ahead to get a good look at it.
“It’s so fucking nice,” you enthused, secretly always wanting a bike but knowing you could barely walk on two feet let alone ride on just two wheels.
“Thanks, got her this summer. Took her to the coast and some beaches. Was a pretty kick-ass time.” Eddie grabbed his helmet, adjusted the strap, and turned to you offering it.
“I don’t have an extra, don’t usually ride with a passenger,” he shrugged, “hopefully this will fit you.” He handed you the black helmet, matte to match his bike.
“Are you trying to say that I have a big head?” You scoffed playfully. His eyebrows shot up, devious. Like he didn’t want to be the one to tell you the truth that you were carrying a globe on your neck. You swatted at his shoulders playfully, a small giggle escaping.
“I didn’t even say anything,” he pretended to wince, rubbing his shoulder like it still stung all the while smiling broadly back at you.
“It was so implied in those eyebrows,” you pointed at them, drawing a little circle in the air in case he forgot where they were.
“They have a mind of their own,” he raised his hands as if he didn’t have an explanation and watched as you tugged the helmet on. It was tight against you, cheeks squeezed on the sides like your uncle used to.
“You might actually be right,” you grimaced, thinking of how unflattering the whole thing looked.
“I promise that’s how it’s supposed to fit,” he chuckled reaching over and adjusting the chin strap.
Eddie tapped your head slightly, shot you another wink that went straight between your thighs. He was suave, annoyingly confident but it had you hungry.
Wanting.
He slipped his legs over the bike, the fabric of his jeans bunching around his thighs and you eyed the swell of his ass. Eddie chuckled at the directon of your gaze as he held his hand out for you, helping you onto the bike and instructing you to use his shoulders to get situated. The muscle flexed under your touch, solid. You wanted to glide your fingers along them, skim the hard muscle of his arms into his back.
“How you feeling back there?” He peeked over his shoulder at you.
“G-good,” you stammered placing your hands gently at his sides.
“You might want to hold on a little tighter.” He pulled your hands around his waist, and patted them gently after you interlocked your fingers.
“Better?” He asked.
“Better,” you nodded even though he was no longer looking. He took off, motorcycle vibrating beneath you. You pressed your face into his back, arms tight around his stomach as the wind whipped against you.
—--
Eddie walked you to your door, palm on the small of your back, your body buzzing with the two margaritas you had over dinner and the warmth radiating from his touch. You weren’t drunk, just a little less wound tight. Nerves melted into oblivion. Inhibitions near nonexistent.
The date was good, great even. You had thought of this moment all night, how to invite him in and if you were being too forward. If you’d read into how his hand dipped from the small of your back to the swell of your ass. If you imagined the hunger in his gaze that was mirrored in yours.
“I had a lot of fun tonight,” you beamed, back pressed into the wood of your door as you looked up at him. A little flirty, eyes batting. His brown eyes searched your face, settled on your bottom lip and he swallowed hard.
“I had a lot of fun too, thanks for inviting me.” He leaned a little closer, bergamot and cinnamon filling the small space between the two of you.
His eyes darted back and forth between your gaze and the pout of your lips.
Debating.
You leaned closer, back leaving the surface of the door, the swell of your breasts brushing against his chest as you did. He crowded your space, pushing you gently back against the wood, one hand resting above your head and the other playing with the hem of your dress. You tried to seem unphased but the way you swallowed had you giving away how his touch affected you.
Eddie dipped his fingers under the hem of your dress tracing the line of your upper thigh to the cheek of your ass. Teasing. Eyes darkening when he noticed you weren’t wearing any underwear.
Your hand moved up his chest, lightly scratching the exposed flesh until they were twined behind his neck, the sweet smell of your perfume making him hum.
He wedged a leg between the two of yours, the sound of his boot heavy against the hallway floor, nose brushing yours as he leaned in watching your eyes flutter close.
Eddie cupped your jaw, calloused thumb rubbing gently against your cheekbone, tracing a line to your bottom lip and pulling against it. A shiver ran up your spine as you felt his other hand move further up your skirt, fingers digging into the doughy flesh.
His breath was warm against your lips, a whisper above yours as he continued to tease you. You whined impatiently pulling him closer until his lips were pressed into yours.
They were softer than you expected, plump against your own and you knotted your fingers into his curls. Pulling softly and eliciting a groan. He sucked your bottom lip, tongue sliding across asking for permission until you opened for him. Your tongues met in the middle, soft as they explored each other.
Eddie’s hand cupped your jaw as the kiss deepened, his knee pressed between your thighs and you began to grind against him. Your clit rubbed against the rough material of his jeans making you shiver with the contact. You felt him twitch against your thigh, the evidence of his arousal pressed into you making you moan into his mouth.
He pulled away from you, pupils blown, cheeks blushed crimson. He eyed your swollen lips, a question on the tip of his tongue but you beat him to it.
“We should go inside,” you stated between breathy sighs. Eddie nodded rapidly, swallowing roughly as he eyed your cleavage before you turned around and began digging for your keys, shuffling around your wallet and tubes of cherry lipgloss.
He pressed kisses to the curve of your neck, tongue darting over the nipped flesh. Length hard against you, rutting into your ass. You were unable to concentrate, head tilting back as his palms created a path until they were cupping your breasts. Your hands stilled as he explored the heavy flesh.
“You better keep looking,” he instructed, teeth grazing your thrumming pulse. You nodded, chest heaving as you dug through your purse again, finally finding the keys.
You pushed the door open with shaky hands, Eddie trailing behind you. You closed the heavy wood in a rush, breaths short as you kicked off your mary jane pumps.
Your apartment was only illuminated by the light in your hallway, creating a shadow over Eddie’s strong jaw. You grazed a fingertip over the bone and he shuddered, eyes dark as he pushed you lightly against the door pressing rough kisses to your sternum.
You reached for the buttons of Eddie’s shirt, fingernails grazing against the tattooed flesh as the material of the black button-up dangled open. He tilted your head back to get better access, kissing down your neck, your chest, and to the top of your breasts. Your skin was warm against his lips, flushed with the heat building between the two of you.
He nipped at your cleavage, fingers starting to undo the buttons that lined the front of your dress, fumbling through them quickly until the material dropped open.
“Fuck,” he breathed a groan as he eyed you, fingers gliding over the flesh of your stomach and up your chest, pushing at the straps of your dress until it fell to the floor with a soft thud.
You were nearly bare, standing in just your tights and your black lace bra. Goosebumps sprouted, a shuddered breath escaped your lips and he was on you.
Rough kisses, all teeth and tongue.
Hungry. Desperate.
He groaned as he felt your perked nipples through the lace of your bra against his muscled chest, big hands finding purchase on the curve of your hips. He squeezed you firmly, flipping you around until your chest was pressed into the door. Eddie rubbed his hands over your ass, warmth radiating through the thin layer separating him from your bare skin.
“How attached to these tights are you?” He asked, voice gruff. He began sucking a sensitive spot behind your ear as he waited for your answer.
“N-not really,” you stammered, distracted. Needy.
Eddie’s right hand cupped your breast wandering under the material of your bra. He squeezed at the nipple as his other hand left a blazing trail down your back and between your thighs. You were soaked, slick arousal making your tights stick to your folds. Eddie traced the outline of them with his finger, breath catching as he felt how wet you were.
“All of this because of me?” His voice was low, warm breath fanning your ear as he pressed into you.
His cock twitched against your ass and you nodded at him, a high-pitched whine escaping your lips as you began grinding against him, hips wiggling against his hard length. He stilled your hips, fingernails digging into your skin creating crescent moons.
“You’re a needy girl, aren’t you?” You nodded again, trying to press harder against him. To feel him against your clit. The friction you so desperately needed.
Eddie smacked your ass and your moan grew louder, needier. Enjoying the sting as his hand rubbed the covered flesh.
“You like that, baby?”
Both his hands rubbed over the dough over your ass, against the seam of your tights, fingers digging until you heard a rip from the nylon and felt the air against the slick between your legs.
Eddie gently pushed against your feet spreading your legs further apart, fabric ripped in half until the tights were two separate halves. He grabbed the fat of your ass spreading you apart bending on his knees behind you.
“Jesus fuck,” he moaned, swiping against your folds.
“Such a pretty pussy,” he hummed, finger dipping close to your cunt.
“Is this all for me?” You nodded but he couldn’t see, gaze trained on how you glistened in front of him.
“I need to hear you, sweetheart,” his hand stilled and you whimpered.
“Yes, it’s all for you.”
“Do you want me to touch you? Make you cum with my tongue?” You nodded again, this time earning another slap against your ass. Your nipples pebbled at the contact, cunt gripping around nothing as your moan filled the space.
“I need you to tell me, pretty girl,” Eddie instructed, spreading you apart again.
“Please, please make me cum Eddie.”
Your nails scrapped against the wood door, clawing at nothing as he teased your cunt with his thick finger. Thumb playing with your bundle of nerves. You felt his warm breath against your wet arousal and shivered, forehead pressing into the door as you bit your lip in anticipation.
You were a second away from begging when you felt his tongue swipe against your folds. He groaned at your taste, lapping up your dripping arousal like a man starved. Your toes curled as he pressed further into you, head twisted so he could work your clit, thick fingers teasing your entrance. You wiggled your ass against his face, a silent plead and Eddie slipped a finger inside stretching you until he was knuckle deep. His fingers curled inside, hitting a spot you had trouble reaching on your own.
Your moans grew louder, reverberating off the walls of your apartment as you got closer to coming undone.
“Fuck, Eddie, oh my god,” your chest heaved, eyes squeezing tight as the rubber band inside you constricted.
He added a second finger, tongue lapping at your juices as you began to constrict around him. You reached behind, fingers wrapping into his curls and holding his head to you.
Your moans matched his pace. The sound of your squelching pussy filling the air around you. Its lewdness egging Eddie on, and his breath was warm against your sensitive skin as his groan vibrated through you.
Whimpers escaped your lips in quick succession, blissed out and close to the edge.
“I-I’m so close, Eddie,” you mewled and he began to suck your clit, your vision going white as the rubber band snapped and you came undone.
Your walls pulsed around his fingers, his name falling from your lips in breathy moans. Body shaking as the orgasm took over. His groans vibrated against your clit making you shudder and he savored every last drop, never slowing. Lapping at your juices. He slapped your ass again, your legs shaky as he left a trail of kisses up your spine and turned you around.
You melted into his arms, looked at him with hooded eyes and saw the evidence of your climax coating his mouth. You stood on your tiptoes, kissing him deep and tasting your sweetness on his swollen lips.
“You taste so good baby, so sweet,” you bit at his bottom lip. Less shy, already hungry for more. To feel the delicious stretch of the hard length that had been pressing against you. You placed your hands on his chest, his muscles flexing under your touch. You pushed back gently, a silent command.
“It’s time for me to take care of you,” you guided him further into the apartment, gaze trained on his as you undid his belt and let it fall to the floor. Your hands worked the button of his jeans, nails brushing the hair that trailed into his pants and teasing the sensitive skin there.
He looked at you with hooded eyes, stopping at the foot of your bed when you got down in front of him. Knees digging into the carpeted floor. You looked at him over your lashes, teeth biting into your lower lip as you took it slow. You pushed his jeans down his hips and he kicked them to the side watching as you grazed the ends of your nails against his legs, up the swell of his muscled thighs. Smiling when he shivered at the touch.
You kissed his clothed length, hand massaging his balls, trailing kisses until you reached the tip. A patch on his boxers wet from pre-cum. You stroked him through the thin fabric, hand wrapping around his girthy cock as you dragged your palm from the base to his tip.
He was big, bigger than you’d ever had, and you ached at the thought of stretching around him. You stood, hand still wrapped his length, and pushed him onto the bed. He spread his stance wide, brown eyes watching as you situated yourself between his legs, his chest rising and falling in short spurts.
You palmed his thighs, finger grazing the spandex of his boxers and pulled them down watching as his cock sprang free. You bit your bottom lip as you eyed his length. He was thick, an angry vein lined the underside, pink head leaking with precum. You grabbed the base of him, tongue flat as you licked a line to his tip swirling over the top to collect the pearly liquid. You moaned at the taste of him, Eddie watching you with a hooded gaze and a shallow breath. You gathered spit, dribbling it down his tip until his head was slick and grazed your flat tongue against it.
“Oh fucking Christ,” his voice was ragged, fingers gripping your sheets as he felt you bob against his length, sucking his sensitive head with a loud pop as you eyed him.
He tangled his fingers in your hair, guiding your head down his length, cock twitching as you attempted to take every inch. Mouth wide, saliva dripping on either side of your gaped mouth. Eddie tensed as he felt your throat constricting around him, swallowing. Taking him deep until you were gagging.
He almost doubled over, veins in his hands at attention as he gripped your hair to try to maintain self-control.
“Fuck, baby, I’m not going to last long like this,” he admitted, head thrown back. A goner.
You licked the underside of his cock one last time, giving his tip a little peck and crawled over his frame, nails scratching lightly across his chest.
He looked at you with a heavy gaze, thumb wiping the saliva that dripped on your chin and back to your lips. You wrapped your plump lips around his thumb, tongue darting across it. A tease.
His cock twitched underneath you as you wiggled on his lap. Needy. He removed his thumb, jaw agape as he watched.
He leaned in, mouth connecting with yours and kissed you until neither of you could breathe. His tongue flicked over the seam of your lips, the kiss deepening as he swallowed your shaky gasps. Rubbing your arousal against his hard length. Sensitive clit throbbing with each swipe. You pulled away panting, eyes heavy with lust. Dazed.
“Fucking hell,” he gasped as he clung to you, his hands reaching up to unclasp your bra. Your breasts bounced out and he kneaded the ample flesh, eyes fixated on your perked nipples.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he breathed as he took one into his mouth, sucking. Nibbling. Watching as you keened at his touch.
You reached beneath you and gripped him firmly, lining him up with your entrance and slowly began to sink down. He eased in easier but was still a stretch. You circled your hips pulling more of him in until your cunt was wrapped tightly around every inch of him. There was a dull ache where you were connected, stretching over his girth. Eddie wrapped his arms around your middle, eyebrows scrunched at the feeling of your tight walls wrapped around his cock.
“Holy shit,” he groaned, fingers digging into your sides and likely to leave evidence of his touch. You adjusted to his length, breathless and stuffed full.
Eddie pressed his nose to your neck as he held you, hissing as you lifted your hips off his lap. His cheeks were flushed pink, sweat beading on his chest. He moved his hands below your ass, kneading it and spreading you apart. You clenched around him as he spread you, both of you gasping at the sensation. Eddie helped ease you up, bringing you back down over his length. The sound of your flesh slapping together filling the room.
His lips were back on yours and he swallowed your moans as you picked up the pace, hips creating circles whenever you reached his tip in a tease. He slapped your ass at every taunt of your hips, and you clenched with each contact of his hand against your butt cheek. He held you firmly against him, arms wrapped around your waist and began rutting into you. Balls slapping against you with each thrust.
“Oh fuck, Eddie, Eddie, Eddie,” you screamed his name, rubber band threatening to snap inside you as he continued.
“Yeah, baby? Going to be a good girl and cum for me again?” You clenched at the nickname.
“Oh you like being called a good girl, don’t you sweetheart?” You nodded, unable to form a sentence or find the words. Only able to pant his name as he continued to stretch you.
“Make sure you ask me before you do,” he instructed, his hand reached between the two of you. His thumb found your clit and Eddie began rubbing it in mean circles. You jolted at the contact, your thighs a mess from your building release. Your nails dug into Eddie’s shoulder, scratching at the muscle as the pressure built.
“Please, Eddie, please let me cum?” You asked between heavy breaths, vision turning white as the climax built.
“Fuck yes, sweetheart, cum all over my cock like a good girl,” he hummed watching as your head tilted and your eyes rolled, pussy fluttering around his length as the rubber band snapped. You could feel the climax throughout your body, goosebumps forming on the skin of your arms as Eddie continued to pump into you.
Overstimulated, tears brimming your eyes as your sensitive cunt was stretched.
“Fuck, sweetheart, I’m going to cum,” his hips sputtered as he bucked into you with one final thrust. His nails digging into the fat of your ass, his cock twitching as he came. He pumped you full, walls painted with his release.
Eddie held you, hands less firm and rubbing soft circles where he dug into your skin. He pecked your bare chest, lips sliding over your breasts, up your sternum and to your neck. Softer. Sweeter.
He found your lips and kissed you with a saccharine grin. Curly bangs sticking to his forehead. You looked at him closely, his face smeared with the red of your lipstick and you giggled at the mess. He raised a curious brow as you began to wipe it away.
“I’m sorry I made such a mess out of you,” you teased.
“I think I’m the one who should be apologizing,” and you could feel the mix of yours and his release running down your thighs.
Your hearts were beating rapidly, your hands splayed on the muscle of his chest and something about his gaze made you suddenly shy. You hid in his chest, planting sweet kisses along his pecs. Eddie tilted your chin.
“Let me get you cleaned up,” he lifted you gently, placing you beside him on the bed. He gave you a quick kiss before venturing down the hall to find the restroom.
You listened as he grabbed a washcloth, the sound of the water running, and the soft pads of his feet as he returned. He was gentle as he ran the cloth over your sensitive cunt, cock twitching at your gasps. He tossed the damp cloth into the hamper and watched you, admired the outline of your frame.
“I want to draw you just like this,” he remarked, eyes tracing over your frame. Breathing beginning to return to normal, hitching every time you met his gaze. You covered your mouth as you giggled.
“Like one of your French girls, Jack?”
“If you’ll let me, Rose,” he leaned over, teeth grazing your lower lip and you gasped. Returning the affection with a dart of your tongue, sucking on his bottom lip. He groaned, the length of his cock hardening with each pass of your lips against his.
“Maybe another time,” you suggested between kisses, and he nodded already pushing you further up the bed.
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bbyhellfire · 2 months
Text
playing the part
eddie munson x reefer rick's ex!fem!reader
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[series masterlist] [e.m. masterlist]
➠ summary: eddie gets distracted during a prison call from rick
➠ word count: 1.6k
➠ warnings: 18+ only, smut, outdoor sex, p in v, oral (r receiving), misogynistic/sexist comment from rick, flashbacks in italics
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“And those cock sucking COs took it! Y’know how long I spent makin’ that batch?”
Five days. It took Rick five days to ferment his most recent batch of hooch. Two weeks if you include the time spent waiting for the commissary to restock oranges. 
“Five days! Not to mention waitin' for commissary to bring back oranges. Lazy fuckers. Two weeks for some goddamn fruit…”
Eddie mutters a lifeless “That’s fucked up, man”, but Rick is already lamenting about prison contraband. In about two minutes, he'll transition to complaints about his cellmate, a young kid who is horrible at prison poker.
He knows. This isn't the first, second, or even third time they've had this conversation. But once Rick starts, he doesn’t stop. No matter how little time is left, which inmate is yelling at him to stop hogging the phone, or what excuse Eddie has. Nothing works. All he can do is play along until Rick drops the charade.
“I tell ‘im, he’s gotta show me respect. He can't bet my toilet paper 'cos he lost his...”
Running a hand through his hair, Eddie flops back into his chair as his patience ticks away with each passing second.
It's not like they were close before Rick's sentencing. Sure, they were friendly, but they were never friends. They were as close as a drug supplier and their dealer could be, but even that isn’t enough to justify these biweekly calls. Rick claims it's so he remains connected to the outside world, which may be partially true but it's not the complete truth. He doesn't call to shoot the shit, and he doesn't act without an ulterior motive. Eddie has something he wants.
“You have one minute left.”
The automated message has Eddie bolting straight up as if there is a drill sergeant breathing down his neck. Thank fuck, he thinks as he taps his rings against the linoleum table top.
"Well, that’s my cue to go. Good luck with your celly, man.”
“Wait, wait! We got time. How’s my girl? She staying out of trouble?”
He bites the inside of his cheek, slumping back in his seat with an exasperated eye roll. She’s not your girl. That's what he wants to say.
“As far as I can tell.”
“She still working at Benny’s?”
“Yeah, saw her there last week," His eyes flicker towards the kitchen clock, the minute hand creeping past the number 4 as another minute is consumed by Rick's yapping. “Rick, I really–”
“Any customers making a move?”
Now that makes his mind white out, only the memory of his last visit to Benny's Burgers flashes behind his eyes.
“Eddie, I don’t have a lot of time.” Your warning was at odds with your actions. With your skirt shucked up to your waist, you pulled your underwear to the side to expose your puffy pussy.
“Relax, sweetheart,” His words dripped like honey as he tugged down his own pants just enough to get his cock out. “We’ve got ten minutes.”
Fucking in the woods behind Benny’s wasn't ideal, but with his band’s equipment taking up the back of his van, your options were limited. It wasn't ideal, but it would do. The woods offered enough coverage to keep your lewd actions hidden, but close enough to hear Benny calling for you if there was a rush of customers.
“I’ll need to fix my ha–” Your words were interrupted with a rush of breath as he fed you the first inch of his cock. “Hair! Oh, fuck, Eddie.”
“I know. Just let me take care of you, ‘kay?” 
Every nerve in his body thrummed as he pulled back before pushing back into you. While you scrabbled for purchase into the tree in front you, Eddie clung to you like an anchor, both arms wrapped around you as he thrust into you.
It's when you choked on his name that he knew he was dragging against your sensitive spot. He pushed a hand down so his fingers could rub quick circles against your clit.
“There you go, baby.”
The lewd, sweet slaps of his hips against your ass echo through the trees. He’s almost hoping someone hears. It's a perverted show of pride, one that would make him cringe if not for the suffocating cloud of pleasure. But he wants people to know that it's him, the town freak, that is making the pretty waitress feel good.
Another automated warning comes to pull Eddie back to his uncle's trailer. The familiar feeling of lust creeps in his lower abdomen.
“Not that I've seen. She’s keeping to herself.”
“Well, what about at night?” Rick presses. They have less than 30 seconds left and he is intent on using every last one. “Maybe she's got some limp dick keeping 'er warm at night?"
Eddie can't help put raise his eyebrows at that. Well...
He wasn’t planning on spending the night, but the Indiana weather had other plans. A storm rolled in, thundering with such chaos that it knocked out the power and flooded most of the major roads.
Not that he was too upset.
All that was waiting for him back at the trailer was a can of soup and the ten o'clock news. But here, he got to revel in the sight of you laid out on Rick's your living room floor, your pretty legs spread open to invite him in. Tender and inviting, he pressed slow and respectful kisses down to your cunt, acting as if he wasn't the messiest pussy eater in Hawkins.
“That feels nice,” You breathed, watching him with blown out pupils. His stomach twists, and he hopes it's because of him and not the downed power lines.
“I want it to,” He murmured, his messy curls tickling your inner thighs. “Fuck, you taste so good.”
He closed his eyes to feast like you were a delicacy. He took his time, licking and prodding, until another wave of arousal coated his tongue. You mentioned Rick rarely went down on you, and if he did, it wasn't anything extraordinary. Eddie was determined to make up for that.
“Y–yeah?”
“Mhmm. Like candy. Messy too. Think I’m gonna have to stay here a while, make this little hole all drooly. Maybe get your clit to come out and play, too." He trailed the tip of his tongue through the mess you were making, warm and wet, moving up to flick against your clit.
"She loves it when I play with her, doesn't she?" – kiss – "Likes it when I kiss her" – kiss – "love her."
“Oh God,” Your hands covered your face, but your giggles still seeped through your fingers. “I can’t believe you refer to my pussy as its own person.”
“Gotta give her the respect she deserves, sweetheart.”
“Eddie? You there, man?”
“Yeah, yeah. Sorry, just a bit…distracted.” He stammers, palming himself through his boxers. No way is he chubbing up while on the phone Reefer fucking Rick. His heartbeat speeds up to a heavy thumping that he hopes can't be heard through the phone. "No, I drove by last night and didn’t see any cars.”
But Rick just can't take no for an answer. "You check inside?"
Now Eddie's patience is running on empty. "Jesus H. Christ, no man. Fuck no! The town already thinks I'm a satanist, don't need to add Peeping Tom to it."
"Yeah, yeah you're right," Rick concedes, although the disappointment is palpable. "I know she's not doin' anythin', she loyal. But you never know with females. It's their hormones, makes 'em stupid. But shit man, you gotta lay off the weed! You're spacin’ out like that, no wonder you’re still in school.”
Yeah, no. Eddie is done. His fingers tighten around the phone, squeezing tight until his knuckles turn white. He shouldn't. He really fucking shouldn't.
“...You know? Repeating senior year isn’t gonna attract the ladies. How you gonna find a good girl like mine if you’re still in school? Gotta be a man and finish. Don’t wanna turn out like your daddy or your uncle–”
“Fifteen second remaining. Please hang up now.”
He should bite his tongue, just grin and bear it, but Eddie isn't exactly known for keeping his head down. Just yesterday Uncle Wayne was joked how he needs a padlock installed on his mouth because right now, his mouth is moving too quickly for his common sense to catch up.
“You know what? You're right. I need to find a good girl. I actually have one in mind. You might know her, really pretty. She works at Ben–"
Click!
"The call has ended. Thank you for using Securus Calling Service."
"Jesus H. Christ," He mutters. It's a surprise the phone isn't ripped off the wall considering how hard he slammed down the receiver. He runs his hands over his face, rubbing hard as if he can scrub away his words.
It was a dumb move, childish impulsivity at its finest.
So why doesn't he care?
A few months ago, he'd be spiraling. Piercing stabs of anxiety poking him all over until his skin felt raw. Chain smoking until there was a mountain of cigarette butts he could bury his head in.
But now.
Now the needles of anxiety are more of an annoying pinch. It's been months since you and Eddie started...whatever this is between you. The strict rules you initially set have relaxed from a mixture of exhaustion and simply not giving a fuck.
Eddie parks his van right out front where anyone driving along Holland Road could see. You're no longer quiet when Eddie is on the phone with Rick. Hell, last time you stood in front of him dressed in only a Hellfire shirt, calling his name like a song and curling your finger towards his room. Rick still thought it was bad reception that abruptly ended the call.
It's stupid dumb how obvious you are. Something straight out of an afternoon sitcom, all that's missing is a laugh track. And, sure, the logical thing might be to re-evaluate the situation and remember that the both of you are playing with fire, but it's too much fun. You're too much fun. And beautiful and funny and clever and kind and —
And if it means Eddie's life is now a tv show, he just hopes it ends with a happily ever after and not tragedy.
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annwrites · 4 months
Text
fine, yeah, I'm fuckin' jealous!
— pairing: billy hargrove x fem!reader
— type: part of a series
— summary: you & billy get lunch & he nearly commits assault. he then steals your icecream cone.
— tags: billy getting violently jealous, billy getting a boner, billy being possessive
— tw: eating, drinking, slut-shaming, sexual harassment
— word count: 2,840
— a/n: i'm not gonna lie, writing for billy is sm fun. he's such an asshole & it's hilarious to me
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When you wake in the morning, it's with a muscled arm slung heavily over your waist, and something hard pressed into your backside.
So, he'd decided to join you under the convers at some point during the night, you think.
You turn, wishing to get him off of you, but jerk in surprise when you feel a patch of rough hair brush against the side of your thigh. He was not...
You shoot up in bed, his arm falling into your lap, and he doesn't even wake.
You very slowly pull back the comforter, and when you glance down you fill with rage. "Get up!"
Billy's eyes slowly open and a lazy smile forms on his lips. "Mornin', sunshine. You sleep good? I know I did."
You get out of bed, throwing the covers back, then immediately regret that decision, seeing someone—or, rather, something—also clearly 'awake'.
Billy doesn't so much as react. He just folds his hands behind his head, not even bothering to re-cover himself, knowing what God blessed him with.
You stare up at the ceiling. "What the hell is wrong with you?"
His eyes trail along your body, your messy hair. "I don't like sleeping in clothes. Get over it."
Your hands ball into fists at your sides. "You are such a dick."
He raises a brow, glancing down to his waist, shrugging, lightly nodding. "In a way, I guess you're rig-"
You quickly walk around to his side of the bed, grabbing his briefs, and throwing them in his face. "Get dressed."
He catches them, sighing. "You're so mean to me."
You grab your backpack, heading into the bathroom, firmly shutting the door behind you as you get ready for the day.
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When you come back into the room, Billy's now dressed—thankfully. A pair of jeans, his boots, and a plaid button-up...which is fairly unbuttoned at the top, showing off his chest, and leather jacket on.
He looks up to you, chewing on a piece of cold pizza. "Breakfast?" He asks, holding the half-eaten piece out toward you, mouth full.
You grab your other bag, settling the strap on your shoulder. "No, I lost my appetite," you say, making your way toward the door.
Just as you reach up on tiptoes to unlock the chain at the top, you feel him pinch your ass under your dress.
You swing around, backpack nearly slamming into him, which you then slip off of your shoulders, throwing it on the floor.
He raises his hands, laughing.
You raise an open palm toward him, his hand quickly grabbing your wrist, catching it before it even comes close to his face. You raise the other one—same thing. He pushes you back against the wall, holding you firmly in-place by your wrists, a smirk on his lips as you squirm to get free.
He places his lips directly beside your ear, his body now pressed-up against your own. "You want to take your frustrations out on me, baby? I can think of lots of funner ways to do it." He pulls back, looking into your eyes, face now utterly serious, eyes hard, his hands squeezing your wrists a bit more firmly.
"Don't ever do that again," he says, suddenly releasing you and grabbing his bag, throwing the door open, leaving you standing there seething.
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Once the two of you are checked out and back on the road, Billy seems to be in good spirits, despite your little tiff that morning...which you felt incredibly guilty about.
How could you have even thought of hitting him? Especially when you knew how much it hurt. And you knew that he did as well.
You reach forward, turning down AC/DC on the radio and turn toward him.
He looks at you with a curious expression. "You need somethin', baby?"
Always with the pet names...
"I'm sorry...for...for trying to slap you. I shouldn't have done that. You're right: it won't happen again."
He's silent for a moment, staring at the road ahead. Then, "Don't worry about it." He shrugs. "Just trying to get you to lighten up a little, sugar. You know, you are allowed to have fun."
You shake your head. "Could you please stop with the pet names?'
He smirks. "Not likely, honey." Then, "So, about that having fun-"
You turn the radio back up, Highway to Hell blasting through the speakers.
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A couple hours later, the two of you finally stop for lunch at a roadside stand that serves burgers, hotdogs, fries, and a few other items.
The two of you pay separately this time, you opting for cheese fries, and Billy a burger.
You sit at a picnic table with an umbrella overtop the both of you, and you watch as he opens his soda can, taking a sip.
You eat a couple fries, and feel a jean-clad leg brush against your own under the table.
You glance up to him from under your lashes, but he just continues eating.
And then you feel his boot knock against your ankle.
"Would you stop that?"
He looks up at you, swallowing. "Eating?"
You roll your eyes, lightly kicking him under the table.
"You want to play footsie, darlin'?"
You shake your head, ignoring his leg softly rubbing against your own. Every time you react, you're giving him exactly what he wants. He's just pissing you off to amuse himself.
A few moments later, his leg stills and you look up, seeing that his eyes are now trained elsewhere: on a pair of girls around your age perched atop a picnic table diagonal to where you sit, giggling and talking amongst themselves, glancing to him every few seconds. You turn back around to continue eating.
Billy shoots them a wink. "Hey, dolls," he calls flirtatiously.
You roll your eyes, but remain silent.
"Is that your car?" One asks, looking to his Camaro.
He grins—it always makes picking up chicks so much easier. "Sure is, sweetheart. You want me to take you for a spin?"
She goes quiet for a moment, you imagine she's debating it with her friend, then, "Can we both come?"
He stands. "Hell yeah you can, baby."
He doesn't bother looking down to you when he says quietly, "Be right back."
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You watch as his car speeds out of the parking lot, hoping he comes back simply because all of your things are in his trunk.
Once you've finished eating, you stand to throw your trash away, until a soft breeze blows one of your napkins away. You groan.
You plop your paper bowl on top of the table and crouch down on hand and knees, reaching underneath the table to grab it. You go to stand, then hear someone catcall you from behind, and you slam the top of your head against the bottom of the table.
You reach up, placing your palm over the spot you were sure would have a bump forming on it soon enough.
You look behind you, and a group of three guys are watching you. Two of them standing, talking to each other, glancing to you every few seconds with smirks, the third seated on the hood of what you assume is his Mustang.
You turn around, throwing your trash away, then you seat yourself at the table again, leaning back against it, watching for Billy's car, now feeling uncomfortable.
The one on the hood slides off, making his way over to you.
You ignore him, glancing around, pretending not to notice, hoping it'll discourage him from trying to talk to you. You don't get so lucky, however.
He comes to stand in front of you, forcing you to look up at his towering form. He's older, but still handsome. Mid-twenties, maybe? Short, dark hair that's slicked back, a goatee, and dark eyes. He sports a plain blue t-shirt, jeans, and sneakers. "Sorry about that. My friends...they, uh," he looks to them and smiles, then back to you. "Can be real assholes."
You smile nervously. "It's ok, no harm done."
He cocks his head to the side. "Your boyfriend do that?"
You reach up, hand hovering over the side of your face, then lower it back into your lap. "No. It's...a long story."
"I've got time," he replies with a kind smile.
You remain silent, not exactly interested in giving a stranger your life-story.
He nods. "I get it; you're shy. That's cute," he says with a chuckle.
He glances down to your bare legs, then back up to your eyes. "You're pretty."
You swallow nervously, blushing. "Thank you," you say quietly.
"Sweet too, apparently."
Your heart starts to pound from nerves. You then begin to worry about how long Billy is going to be gone. A few minutes? A couple hours?
Suddenly, he leans down, planting his palms atop the table behind you, boxing you in as he leans down, his face mere inches from your own. "You like fast cars, cutie?"
God, they really are all the same, aren't they?
You clasp your hands together to keep them from trembling from nerves. "Not really. They...they kind of scare me."
He smirks briefly. "What if I promise to take things slow, just for you?"
You know he is most certainly not talking about cars now.
Before you can reply, you hear the rumble of a familiar engine pulling back into the lot, and as you go to turn your head in the direction of the sound, he presses a kiss to your cheek, causing you to jerk your head back in his direction.
He laughs lightly. "Not exactly where I was aiming for." Then, "So, what's your name? Mine's Tyler."
You hear a door being loudly slammed.
"I-"
Suddenly, Tyler is being pulled away from you by the back of his shirt. Billy throws him on the pavement, the look on his face that of utter rage.
You glance to the Mustang, and see his two friends heading in your direction.
"Touch her again and I'll beat your fuckin' ass! You hear me, asshole?" He points down at him, his other hand in a tight fist.
Tyler goes to get up and Billy steps overtop of him, legs on either side of him. "Stay down, if you know what's fuckin' good for you."
"Hey!" You hear called from the parking lot and your eyes widen. His friends do not look happy.
You step over to Billy, gripping the leather of his jacket in your hands, pulling him toward you. "Billy, we have to go. Now."
He glares down at Tyler for just a moment longer, shoulders squared, rapidly rising and falling, jaw set, eyes hard, then steps away, grabbing your forearm, pulling you around to the passenger side. "Get in the fucking car," he orders, shoving you inside.
He quickly makes his way around the front of the car, turning the engine over and rapidly pulling away, leaving the three angry men in the rearview.
Billy swerves into traffic when he goes to merge, forcing the car in his lane to also swerve into the next one over, laying on their horn.
He just angrily switches gears, ignoring the now-angry driver, going faster.
You buckle yourself in, still shaking.
When you glance at him, he looks anything but pleased. Why was he so angry, anyway? Had the girls he'd given a quick ride to ticked him off? And thus made Tyler the target to take his anger out on?
"Did you not have fun, then?"
He looks at you with an irritated, but also confused look. "What?"
"With the girls from the food stand. Did they-"
He scoffs, shifting gears. "Are you fucking stupid, or something?"
Your hands ball into fists. "Excuse me?"
"Who even was that prick, huh? I leave you alone for five goddamn minutes and that's what I come back to? You letting him kiss you, and touch whatever-the-fuck-else while I wasn't there to-"
Angry tears sting your eyes. "I didn't let him touch anything! He came onto me! Maybe, if for once, you thought with the head on your shoulders, instead of the one in your pants, it wouldn't have happened in the first place!"
He picks up speed. "It's not my fuckin' job to babysit your ass. So, is that it, then? Huh? That you really are some easy slut who puts out for everyone except me?"
You're shaking you're so enraged now. "Fuck you! You-"
"Yeah, probably the only guy you haven't!" He throws at you with a mocking laugh.
He swerves into the next lane over as a poor excuse at merging.
"God, you are such an ass! What's your problem? I mean, how many girls have you slept with, anyway? I talk to one guy—one guy—and I'm a slut? Are you serious?"
He sneers. "None of your business how many I've had. Don't be such a fuckin' prude. Not like it meant anything, anyway. It's just sex. It doesn't mean shit."
"And that's exactly why I won't let you—any guy—so much as touch me: because that is what sex is to all of you. Thanks, but no thanks. I'll save myself for someone actually worthy of me."
He looks at you then, expression unreadable. "You're a fucking virgin?"
You clench your jaw.
He looks back to the road.
"Like you said: none of your business."
He leans back, dropping speeds, upshifting. "So you didn't let Harrington crawl up there after all, huh?"
You want to break something inside his car, but know for your own safety that you better not.
"Why? Are you jealous if I did?"
He looks at you. "Did he?" He asks, completely serious.
You shrug. "I don't know. Maybe he did, maybe he didn't. Sound awful jealous to me."
He downshifts again, anger climbing, along with the speedometer. "Answer the fuckin' question."
You stare out your open window, hair whipping around you.
"Fine, yeah, I'm fuckin' jealous! That what you wanted to hear? Huh? So, did you-"
"No, we didn't even hold hands because it wasn't a date, Billy! I'm not even attracted to him in the first place. Halfway through Nancy showed up, and they talked for the rest of the evening, while I sat with a girlfriend of hers chatting."
He grows quiet for only a second before saying "fuck this" and turning the radio on, blaring Black Sabbath.
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It's an hour later before either of you speak again, you breaking the silence. "I have to pee."
He rolls his eyes. "Why didn't you go back at the food stand? Oh, wait, nevermind. I know why. You were too busy-"
"Either you pull over soon or I'm going all over the seat."
He takes the next exit, and once he's parked outside of a McDonald's, you slam the door behind you.
"Fuckin' watch that shit!"
You ignore him as you go inside, in search of a restroom.
Once finished, you sit there a few extra minutes, trying to calm yourself down. You consider going back out and trying to calmly explain to him that there are other ways of expressing emotions than through violence and unabashed anger, but you know exactly how such a conversation will go—it won't. He'll put a stop to it before you can even start.
So, you instead wash your hands, then go and get yourself an ice-cream cone.
When you come back out to the car, Billy has a pair of sunglasses on, head leaned back against the seat, Led Zeppelin now playing.
You get inside, buckling yourself in with one hand, then take a lick of your ice-cream that's in the other.
He turns his head in your direction. "What, nothing for your chauffeur?"
You look at him, licking your lips. "You have two feet and a heartbeat, go get one."
He watches you lick a few more times, vanilla sliding down your tongue.
He doesn't even try to hide it when he reaches down, adjusting himself.
You ignore it, licking again.
"Let me have some."
You look at him, considering, then hold it toward him.
And he bites half the thing off, swallowing.
"You-"
He then tosses the rest out the window, splattering against the pavement, rainbow sprinkles going everywhere.
"What'd you do that for?!" You yell.
He puts the car in reverse, backing out of his parking spot. "Don't need you making a mess in here, or distracting me while I'm driving."
"You just wasted thirty cents of my money!"
His hand circles the wheel, turning toward the exit of the parking lot. "More like fifteen once I was done with it." He looks at you again. "If you need somethin' else to lick, I know where you can put your tongue at, sweetheart."
"You're so disgusting."
He glances to you. "I think you like getting those perfect feathers ruffled."
He then revs the engine loud enough as he drives away that he doesn't catch the vulgar statement you throw his way.
He'd like to think you agreed with him.
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