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urhoneycombwitch · 5 months

Text

I know what they call you.

🍯 honey flavour: You’re a little lost in your head. Eddie wants to find you.

🐝 the bees: Eddie x shy!Reader, best friends Steve + Robin

wc: 11k

cw: alcohol/weed used as a social crutch, R is hassled by a guy at a party (but her boys back her up), brief vomit mention, implied bad home life for R, light SH by way of tight grip, PTSD, R has breasts+V, praise kink, oral (R receiving), one (1) spank, multiple orgasms (R), soft dom!eddie, overstim, coming in pants (E)

foreword: The healing properties of good head <333 Anyways I labeled this R “shy” but she’s more… introverted? Reserved? this one goes out to the weird and off-putting girlies who have a lot to say but are kinda quiet instead. Timeline may be a bit wibbly but designed it to be early 4th-season era, with R (early 20s) having played an undetermined part in the various Upside Down battles from seasons previous.

Loosely based on this anon every1 say thank you anon!

___

It’s spring break, 1986, and you’re cursing the name of your so-called “best friend” Robin Buckley.

You didn’t even want to go to this stupid kegger in the first place, arguing with her the whole ride over from Steve’s backseat.

“Don’t you think it’s totally lame that you’re basically being chaperoned by two gap-year losers?” you’d said, leaning forward to rest your elbows on the console, seatbelt pulling taut across your Rolling Stones tee. “You’re a big girl, Robin, you don’t need Steve and me to babysit you anymore.”

Robin began protesting but Steve interrupted, tapping at your forearms without looking away from the road- “Sit back, wouldja, that’s not safe. And for the record, it’d only be lame if we were, like, thirty and still going to high school kickbacks. Gap-year drinking parties are a rite of passage.”

You’d sat back against your seat with a huff, arms crossed, unconvinced until Robin turned those big pleading eyes your way over the back of her seat. “You wanna talk about lame? Lame is me getting anywhere within a 60-foot radius of Vickie. I am totally hopeless around that absolute beauty.”

She’d twisted in her seat and reached for your hand, and you gave it to her grudgingly (the two of you ignoring another of Steve’s gripe about vehicular safety) as she said, “You’re like, the best wingwoman I’ve ever met. Please come to the party and help me avoid the natural disaster that is me running my mouth.”

Robin wasn’t just being generous- you were a killer third wheel. Especially when alcohol was involved: the walls that you naturally upheld around your introverted demeanor by day turned liquid as whiskey by night, often scoring you major cool points with your friends for things you barely remembered doing the day after.

So you’d relented, and in turn resolved to get as drunk as possible as quickly as possible (in the name of Robin’s aid, of course), but turns out your best friend didn’t even need your help in the first place; within 5 minutes of setting foot in the crammed house party Robin won a spot right next to Vickie on the living room couch, starry-eyed gaze saved only for the redhead that bore no room for your intervention.

Three shots ago, the situation would have struck you as funny, but it’s been a lonely time (what with Steve abandoning you, too, in favor of chatting up some college blonde); drifting from packed room to packed room, sneakers sticking to the floorboards, winding through throngs of sweaty dancing students just to keep on top of your alcohol consumption.

Kind of like hunting in the wild, you muse, leaned against a wall with red solo cup in hand. Flirt with Amy Thacker and her low-cut blouse to access the watering hole (Mystery Punch, green both in color and flavor); let Lenny Baker put his paws on your waist to gain entry to the standing liquor cabinet. The stuff of nature docs.

If this dimly-lit Hawkins party is the savanna, then you are the antelope- grazing on snacks, never staying in one spot for too long, minding your own business and staying way the hell away from the lion’s den (the group of jocks in Hawkins Tigers polos).

Unfortunately, you push off the wall in search of a refill at the same time Lenny Baker decides to sidle up to you, nearly knocking the cup from your grasp when he bends his thick head to shout in your ear above the music.

“Great party, right?” His arms are crossed above his tank of a chest, blocking you from a smooth exit via the kitchen archway.

“If you’re into drunk teens, I guess,” you say back, pointedly, licking a stripe up your wrist from where the punch had sloshed onto your bare arm.

When you look back up Lenny’s still standing there, watching you with a hungry edge that’s starting to make your well-honed antelope-sense tingle. As you not-so-subtly cast your glance around for Steve, Lenny leans in again, close enough to give you a sour whiff of his breath. “I’m legal, if that’s what’s got your panties in a twist. And what’s wrong with having some fun?”

“I’m not into having fun with douchebags who ‘roid away their remaining brain cells to bully my friends,” you retort, flatly. You doubt this guy knows you’re connected to the Hellfire group (de facto sitter, second only to Steve), but the insult seems to land anyways.

Lenny scoffs, going for a low blow to offset the sting of his bruised ego- “If you’re trying to play the part of slut, you were doing a way better job earlier.”

What the meathead hasn’t picked up on yet is your absolute lack of care about him- or anyone else at this stupid fucking party, for that matter. Besides Robin and Steve, obviously, but they’re equally indisposed at the moment. You’re feeling bold enough that you could play dirty: throw the dregs of your drink in his face, make a real scene- but the shots from earlier are hitting you sideways and you’re not entirely confident in your ability to multitask.

So instead, with a wink, you tell him, “At least this slut knows when to quit,” and turn on your heel, abandoning the kitchen escape route for a closer door that leads to the back porch.

You suck in lungfuls of cool night air, trying to clear the fuzz of booze from your vision. When you don’t hear any angry footsteps following in your wake, you sink against the wooden bannister and tip back the last of your drink in one swallow. Maybe Steve doubled back to the car…?

With your empty cup left neatly on the railing, you set off down the couple of steps that separate you from the grass, except the toe of your shoe catches on a hidden groove in the wood, and nothing is within reach to grab onto as you trip and begin to fall.

The stumble should have ended with you facedown in the dirt, but something- someone- solid breaks your downward path, catching the upper half of your body in a sturdy hold even as your legs twist around themselves.

“Whoa, whoa, hey, I gotcha. You okay?”

The voice is instantly familiar, one that you’ve heard ringing out from underneath the drama room door on countless occasions as you’ve waited on your various child wards to wrap up their D&D sessions.

Eddie Munson is holding you in his leather-clad arms, larger than life with that big cloud of hair and doe-eyed gaze matching yours. He helps you stand, properly, dropping his hands once you’re stabilized and taking the warmth of his palms with him.

“You okay?” he asks again, tilting his head, looking at you with fresh concern from under that mop of bangs. “Looks like you had a lot to drink.”

“Thanks, Dad,” you drawl, bravado flooding back in. “Am I really gonna get a fucking lecture on drinking from my local drug dealer?”

Instead of rising to the bait or bristling at your tone, Eddie grins- delighted, wolfish- before letting out a low whistle. “Who coulda guessed: resident Shy Girl has a mouth on her.”

You twist said mouth into your own smile, one that you hope is coy and charming and not dorkily lopsided (because you stopped being able to feel your face after that last drink), and coo, “You thinkin’ about my mouth, Munson?”

He laughs- a full, vibrant sound that lights up the night. There’s a flutter in your ribcage, knocking up a frenzy at the noise, like it wants to get out and at him, but you tamp it down and play it cool.

“You’ve only seen me in the cold, unforgiving light of day,” you continue, as Eddie rifles through his pockets, surfacing with a pack of cigs, eye contact yet to be broken. “My nighttime alter ego is a real riot, all liquored up.”

“Well, I happen to think you’re a riot in the sober light of day, too.” Eddie shrugs a shoulder as he flips the lid of the cigarette box.

You’re unsure if he’s messing with you- he’s gotta be, right? The only meaningful interaction you two have had in the past handful of years has been through the courtesy of the children in your respective care- a few surface-level conversations during carpool pickup, some flirting on his end that you’ve always been too skittish to return.

Well, until now, you guess. Maybe this is a good thing, him seeing you like this- it’ll either scare him away, or you’ll finally make good on the quiet crush you’ve been harboring.

You’re about to speak again when the porch door opens with a bang; you and Eddie swivel at the same time to see Lenny clomping noisily towards the steps, voice booming out over the thrum of bass back inside- “This freak bothering you?”

You look between the metalhead and the jock, eyes wide and mocking as you call back, “No, but you’re starting to!”

“Jesus, talk about poking the bear,” you hear Eddie mutter behind you, but your focus is taken up by the fact that Lenny is tromping down the steps and reaching out to grab your upper arm, his cold and clammy palm taking up a sizeable amount of space.

You can feel that rage, simmering and easily accessed, start to crawl over your skin. You stand your ground in the face of someone much larger than you, sneakers planted firmly, chin tilted in defiance- I’ve killed monsters in alternate dimensions, asswipe. You might’ve scared me back in high school but now I dare you to fuck with me.

Before Eddie can jump to your defense, you’re already going in for the bite, voice dripping with derisiveness. “So glad your right hand found its way off your dick for a change, Len. How about you do me one better and take it far, far away from here?”

Lenny’s face is almost purple with anger as his grip tightens, and you feel Eddie moving in at your back- to do what exactly, hard to say, ‘cuz Lenny’s got about 60 pounds on the lanky DM- but just as fast as the tension has ramped up, it gets diffused with the arrival of one Steve Harrington from around the corner of the house.

He cuts a smooth path through the grass to your other side, Robin’s sweater slung over one arm, twirling his car keys in neat loops around his finger, boasting a casual demeanor that doesn’t match up with the steely look he’s giving Lenny. “You heard the girl, Baker. Time to am-scray.”

Whether it’s the rumors of Steve’s nail bat or the manic look in your eyes or the fact that he’s outnumbered, Lenny’s got plenty of reason now to drop your arm.

Which he does, spitting one last “bitch” at you before hulking off into the night.

The anger in you recedes like a wave. You breathe out a dry laugh, then turn back to the boys, clasping your hands over your heart with faux-dopeyness. “My heroes. How will I ever repay you?”

“Shutting up, for a change, would be a great start,” Steve grouses over the sound of Eddie’s cackles.

“Holy shit. Can’t believe your girl’s feistiness almost landed me in the hospital.” Eddie shakes his head, plucking a cigarette out and sticking it between his plush lips.

“She’s not my girl,” Steve says, even as you wind your arms around his chest from behind, tucking your chin over his shoulder. “She is, unfortunately, my problem.”

“I love when you two talk about me like I’m not here.” You simper at Eddie from your draped position.

He’s watching you with a fondness that feels overly familiar, through the haze of smoke streaming from his nostrils as you pat the chest beneath your hands- “Don’t worry about ol’ Stevie boy. He’s turned into quite the good guard dog after the whole Russian mall takeover last year.”

“Aaaaand that’s enough talking from you,” Steve says firmly, twisting out of your arms and putting his own around your waist. “Say goodbye to your new buddy, we’ve got a Robin to collect.”

As Steve steers you towards the direction of his car you wave at Eddie, a motion that he returns, his rings glinting in the porch light.

“Christ, you really are somethin’ else with some drinks in you,'' Steve fusses, helping you into the backseat, hand shooting up to block the door frame before your head can collide with the metal. “Did you seriously have to bring up the Russians?”

“He probably thought it was a joke, Steve,” you say, exasperated and fighting the twisted middle seatbelt with uncoordinated hands. “You know… those things that you tell people when you wanna get in their pants?”

The crack was aimed at Steve’s recent string of strike-outs in the dating department, but he throws it back at you. “You’re trying to get in Eddie Munson’s pants?”

“No,” you sputter, indignant and feeling suddenly too hot.

Steve knocks your still-struggling hands from the belt, clicking you in himself, before pointing an accusatory finger in your face. “Stay here while I get Robin, and no throwing up in the Beemer.”

He shuts the door, Robin’s sweatshirt hanging from one shoulder while he stalks back into the house.

You let your head fall back against the seat and close your eyes, bright cherry embers of cigarettes between lush-lipped curves dancing behind the dark of your lids.

___

You manage to avoid throwing up in the BMW, saving the worst of it for the downstairs toilet of the Harrington house after Steve drags you and Robin indoors. Once your body is purged of the spirits, you collapse into your usual side of the guest bed, sweaty and exhausted, murmuring an apology to Robin who squeaks at the rocking movement of the mattress. In a few minutes, you’re lulled to sleep by the gentle snores of your best friend.

The morning sun is a very rude awakening, Robin apparently having forgotten to close the blinds before leaving with Steve for their shifts at Family Video. There’s a full glass of water on the bedside table and a few loose Tylenol tablets, the word “DRINK” sprawled on a sticky note in Steve’s handwriting.

You wince, down the meds along with half the water, and start the search for your sneakers.

When you’d signed up to protect a bunch of teens at the end of the world awhile back, it had seemed like a one-time gig. But now, here you were a few years later, loading yourself into your curb-parked junker to willingly cart around the same kids.

While wearing yesterday’s clothes. Even with the sprays of cologne that you’d stolen from Steve’s dresser, you’re pretty sure you’ll be fooling no one.

Evidenced by your first stop in east Hawkins for Dustin Henderson, who clambers into the front seat with a scathing appraisal. “Rough night?”

“You could say that,” you reply, shifting the gear to drive and grimacing at the subsequent squeal of metal that pierces into your left temple. “Learn from my mistakes as a washed-up twenty-something and cool it on the teen drinking, all right?”

“Washed up though you may be,” Dustin intones sagely, digging through his backpack and producing two brown-paper bundles, “you are now one Claudia Henderson Breakfast Sandwich Deluxe richer.”

You take the proffered sandwich gratefully, steering with one hand to peel back the oil-stained paper from the still-warm bread. “God. Is your mom looking to adopt?”

“She’s kind of got the perfect child already, but I’ll keep my ear to the ground for ya,” Dustin says around a mouthful of cheese and egg.

The solid breakfast helps your stomach ease back into a place of normality, but with your next stop adding two more kids to the mix, the rowdy bickering that follows puts that Tylenol to work.

“You’re an idiot,” Max is saying to Lucas over the sound of his indignation in the back seat. “You seriously think Indiana Jones would win against Supergirl? She can shapeshift, and she has heat vision.”

“All I’m saying is, it’s really hard to see a whip coming.” Lucas is stretching the limits of his seatbelt in his earnestness to get his girlfriend on his side.

It doesn’t work- Max rolls her eyes and taps at your shoulder. “Help me out here. His logic is totally shit, right?”

Making a turn onto the main road, you nod your assent without looking back. “I think you should listen to your very smart girlfriend, Lucas.”

Max makes a triumphant “hah”, and Dustin adds fuel to the argument’s fire when he drags in some other comic book character that you’ve never heard of.

You hazard a glance in your rear-view mirror at Max, who’s too busy dishing out an enthusiastic rebuttal to notice. Her auburn braids swing with the movement of the car, and you wonder if they were done by her mother before work or if Max had to rely on her own hair expertise again.

You’ve got a real soft spot for Max, always have. While you both have plenty of cause to bond over shitty home lives, it’s also Max’s brash and defiant attitude that drew you to her. She’s got the bravery you can only hope for, something that you are sure to tell her frequently, even though the compliment is hard for her to take.

You score a parking spot that’s right in front of the arcade, calling after the kids already scrambling out of your car that you want to leave at noon, sharp. They all give some form of distracted acknowledgement before disappearing into the building, so you figure the earliest you'll be getting out of here is noon-thirty.

Not like you have much to do today, anyways, besides bother Steve and Robin at work- since the arcade is conveniently located right next to Family Video, it’s a perfect excuse to wait out the kids’ spring break activities in the company of your nearest and dearest.

You’re cutting a swift track up the sidewalk when you nearly collide with Eddie Munson, for the second time in less than 24 hours.

“Hey!” He beams at you, a wide, easy thing that fits on his face so well, like it was made to be there, boyish dimples digging in. “Long time no see.”

“Yeah,” you agree, trying to smile back but probably landing somewhere in the grimace region as memories of last night float to the forefront of your mind. Small talk. You can do it. Say something. “Um. Were you getting a movie?”

“Nah.” Eddie shakes his head, hooks a thumb at the Family Video doors behind himself. “Keith’s one of my regulars. That guy might actually smoke more weed than me.”

You hum mildly to show you’re still paying attention but really you’re looking at Eddie’s hair, dark curls that shift with each of his movements. His hair isn’t black, like you’ve been led to believe this whole time- with the morning light shining through, highlighting the halo frizz around the edges, it’s actually a deep, chocolatey brown.

Similar to his eyes. Which are trained on you. Because you haven’t talked in a weird amount of time and are now just openly ogling his hair.

Before you can open your mouth to apologize Eddie asks, “You wanna smoke?”

You nod, perhaps a tad too enthusiastically, and then stretch on your tiptoes to peer around Eddie’s frame at the Family Video sign. “Yeah, but we gotta be fast unless you want the Wonder Twins joining us.”

His grin slips into a smirk, and he winks before taking your hand in his. “A quickie, then.”

That fluttering thing in your ribs is back. The metal of Eddie’s rings are cool against your palm as he leads you around the side of the building, dropping your hand once you both are leaned up against the red brick.

Trying not to outright stare again, you watch from the fringes of your vision as Eddie lights up and breathes a cloud of smoke into the air. His nails are painted black- they weren’t last night. An image of him- hunched over a kitchen table, tongue sticking out of those pillowy lips in concentration, a nail polish brush held in his long fingers- flits across your mind.

Eddie holds the cigarette out, filter-side towards you, and you shake your head lightly. “No thanks. I don’t actually smoke, I just wanted to talk to you.”

Eddie glows. Before he gets the wrong idea you start explaining, arms crossing tight over your chest in unconscious defense- “I wanted to talk about last night. And say I’m sorry. I’m not usually so…”

“Badass? Charming? Hot?” Eddie fills in when you trail off, taking in another deep drag of smoke.

Christ. You feel heat rushing from head to toe as you ward off his flattery, nails nipping into your upper arms. “I was gonna say… talkative? I guess? I’m normally not one to pick fights, but Lenny was being a dick and I don’t like the way he treats the kids, or you, for that matter, and I was drunk and mouthy but that’s not an excuse to drag you into it and I’m sorry-”

“Hey, hey.” Eddie’s tone is soothing, low, cutting smoothly into your feverish confession. He reaches out and strokes the back of his knuckle across your hand, tiny half-moons from your nails leaving their impression as you soften your grasp on yourself.

He doesn’t seem to mind that you can’t look anywhere but at your sneakers planted in the gravel as he says, “You have nothing to apologize for, sweetheart. I’m a big boy, I can handle myself when it comes to dickwads like Lenny Baker. And I would say that rescuing fair maidens is part of my job description, but…”

Eddie stubs the half-smoked cigarette out against the brick, flicks it to the ground, and waits until you look up at him again before saying “You don’t seem like you’re in need of any saving.”

That flutter, again, as you hold his eye contact for as long as you can stand it.

The corner of his mouth quirks up. “There she is.”

Mortified, you resist the urge to scream into your hands as you push off from the brick, instead squeezing them into fists at your sides. “Oh-kay. Well. I better head inside or Robin will send out the search party for me.”

Eddie lets you walk past him, but just before you turn the corner he says, “I’m across from the Mayfields in Forest Hills if you ever want some company. Or some good weed.”

Footfalls from his thick-heeled boots recede into the distance, and you take a minute to calm your breathing before pushing your way through the doors of Family Video.

Steve’s stocking a shelf of New Releases at the front of the store, vest-clad torso faced away as the bell above the door signals your entrance. On autopilot he monologues, “Welcome to Family Video, let us know how we can be of service.”

“Aw, I miss the days when you were forced to say Ahoy, mateys!” You tease, Steve turning to give you an irritated frown as you prop your hip against the register counter.

Robin clacks away on the computer, hitting the Enter key a little harder than necessary as she says, “You’re about one mall fire and a bajillion NDA’s too late to ever hear that shit again.”

Keith must be lurking around in the back office, ‘cuz the three of you only refer to last year’s cataclysmic series of events as a “mall fire” when you’re talking in code.

Or if you’re trying to be funny. But based on the dark circles under Robin’s eyes and the harried way Steve’s shoving a hand through his hair as he drifts towards the counter, you surmise that the three of you are very much on the same page this morning with regards to humor and hijinks.

“I didn’t know it was possible to be this hungover,” Robin groans, sinking her hand into a torn-open Skittles bag and popping a handful into her mouth. “Sugar is supposed to help, right?”

You snort, fiddling with a stack of paper brochures as Steve leans against the counter.

“Had any more run-ins with the town riffraff?” He asks, feigning casual, honey-colored eyes roaming around the shop.

“I’m visiting you, aren’t I?” You shoot back, unreasonably defensive.

“Another point for the pretty lady, and Harrington strikes a zero,” Robin totals in her best sports broadcasting voice. “What the hell are you talking about, Steve?”

“Drinky McGee over here was spilling her guts last night to none other than Edward Munson,” Steve replies, looking satisfied when Robin’s eyes bug dramatically.

“Eddie?” Robin hops off the stool, sliding her hands from the other side of the counter to stop your own from ripping the brochures to shreds. “And what, pray tell, were you spilling about with Eddie Muson?”

“Nothing.” You pull your hands from Robin’s, rolling your eyes as if the stakes are low, when in fact the stakes are as tall as the Empire State Building. You can practically hear the wind whistling from this height. “I wasn’t… we barely talked. He was backing me up when some jock started messing with me. That’s all.”

Robin whirls on Steve with animosity- “You left her alone long enough for some meathead to get involved? Jesus, Steve, the hell is wrong with you?”

“Like you shacking up with Vickie after two Tears for Fears tracks is any more responsible!” Steve snaps.

Having spent enough time with both your friends to know their propensity towards petty arguments, you slap a hand against the counter to derail. “Hey! Both of you knock it off. It’s fine, I’m fine, we survived yet another night out on the town unscathed. Let’s just… drop it.”

Steve looks properly chastised, but Robin gets a glint in her eye that confirms she’s not thrown off the scent so easily.

“You know what they call him, right?” she asks you, lowering her raspy voice even further.

“Eddie The Freak Munson,” Steve supplies, but shrinks noticeably when Robin gives him a withering look. “...not that, then?”

“Of course you, Steve The Hair Harrington, would only know him by that name.” Robin shakes her head, disapproving, before turning back to you with a wicked grin. “Word on the street holds Eddie The Munch Munson in very high regard.”

Steve scoffs at this, but you blink, uncomprehending. “Munch, like… he eats a lot of food?”

You feel very suddenly and violently ganged up on when Steve and Robin give you mirrored quizzical looks.

“No, babe,” Robin says, slowly. “Munch as in he eats pussy.”

“Jesus christ.” Heat courses through you as you scan the empty store, even as Steve chuckles and says, “You really are a prude.”

A skittle sails airborne into the side of his temple and he flinches, Robin coming to your aid. “That’s no way to talk to a lady, Steven.”

“I’m so not a prude.” You’re quick to jump to your own defense. “I just… didn’t know what that meant.”

You’d had a boyfriend for 6 months your sophomore year of high school, Ben- nice enough guy, but you’d mostly dated as an excuse to get all your firsts out of the way. Some laid-back hookups have occurred since then- it’s not like you’ve been chaste all these years, for fuck’s sake.

But you certainly wouldn’t give any of those boys a prize-winning nickname for their ability to eat you out.

“It’s all baseless gossip, right?” Steve grabs a nearby wheeled cart and pushes it to the New Releases, resuming his shelf stocking. “I mean, what the hell else are small-townies good for other than trading lies like baseball cards.”

“I dunno,” Robin says, thoughtfully, sucking at her front teeth. “If the token lesbian is hearing about it, then he’s gotta be some sort of sex god.”

Steve’s making a snarky comeback, but you can’t hear him over the whistling in your ears.

You stare blankly out at the parking lot, one hand absently crunching at a brochure, trying really hard to think of anything but those plush lips and all the places you want them.

____

Ever since the events of last year ripped a hole in your found family’s world, you make it a weekly habit to visit Max.

You’re always armed with some excuse- made too much pasta, please take it off my hands and put this tupperware in your fridge; I was on my way to the thrift store and thought I’d stop by, wanna come with and help me pick out some new jeans?- so that it’s harder for Max to deny your company. Slowly, over the last handful of months, by way of secondhand book offerings and slices of leftover pizza, Max has let her guard down enough to let you in.

Even on days like today, when her demeanor suggests active disdain (calling you “mom” with a caustic bite when you ask after her last meal, rolling her eyes when she finds you doing the leftover sink dishes), you don’t take it personal. Her coldness towards little acts of kindness is due to the shitty way other people have failed her. And plus, you’ve put in enough effort to be able to see the warm side of Max Mayfield.

Like now, for instance- she’s giving you a bone-crushing hug on your way out, freshly-braided hair pressed tight to your sternum as you hug her back and sway in the doorway. The hug is quick and fierce, over in seconds as she slips back into practiced indifference

“Stay out of trouble this week and I’ll buy you a pony,” you joke as she pulls away, and the smile that she cracks makes it all worth it.

“Make it a racehorse and you’ve got yourself a deal,” she says, giving you a small wave before closing her front door.

You walk down the dirt path to your parked car, keys in hand. Tonight’s schedule is that of a responsible, sensible young adult- the classified ads on your desk at home need trawling through, and a laundry pile the size of Hoosier Hill waits expectantly on your floor.

But there’s this crawling under your skin, a feeling that tends to flare up every so often, a craving for some sort of release gnawing at the edges. Usually the cure is sad music and masturbation, or some of Steve’s parents’ wine and a cheesy romcom.

Or weed. That tends to work, too.

You’re shoving your keys into the pocket of your denim jacket and walking across the way to Eddie’s trailer before you lose your nerve, scuffing your sneakers against his porch while you knock.

He looks surprised to see you, dark brows raised, leaning into the palm he’s got on the doorframe- “Oh shit. Hi.”

“Hi,” you reply, tracking one foot up the back of your calf, feeling timid under his gaze. “Do you… can I buy some weed?”

When he nods, you duck under his arm and drop to one knee on the carpeted floor to untie your laces.

“Shit, sweetheart, don’t go to all that trouble.” He lets the door close, enveloping you both in the moody lighting of his trailer. There’s a radio playing the local rock station dimly from one of the bedrooms, and as you toe off your shoes you notice a gleaming black guitar leaned upright against the couch.

“Do you play?” You drift over on sock feet to gently brush across the strings, a faint and discordant noise rising and fading underneath your fingertips.

“Yeah.” Eddie’s voice comes from just over your shoulder as he watches your gentle fingers on his prized possession. “I’m in a band, actually. You should come see us play sometime.”

“That’s cool,” you say earnestly. “I remember when you got in trouble for that talent show performance- your band was totally swindled out of first place, if you ask me.”

When he doesn’t respond right away, you hazard a look at him over your shoulder and find him staring at you again, something you’re still not used to, giggling out a little “What?” as his eyes stay on your face.

“You’re pretty, that’s all.” The Dio logo on the front of his tee ripples when he shrugs a shoulder. As if he knew it would embarrass you, he leaves no room for your disagreement, turning away into the kitchen, stretching tall for the metal lunchbox on the top of his fridge.

His shirt lifts with the stretch, a flash of stomach lined with a trail of dark hair that makes you swallow back the gathering saliva in your mouth.

“So, weed,” he’s saying as he pops the lid on the box, shaking out a small bag of fuzzy-looking green clumps. “I can set you up with a couple of days’ worth, if you want.”

“That sounds good,” you reply, mustering courage to drift to Eddie’s side, pretending to assess the baggie he’s holding, committing to memory the way his long fingers deftly pluck apart bud from stem. “That way I can come back and buy more.”

His fingers pause, halfway to the metal grinder nestled in the lunchbox as he says, “You know, you don’t need to use weed as an excuse to come see me. I think we’ve already established I like lookin’ at ya, so you’d be doing me a favor if you came by more. Just to hang out.”

This offer sits between you as he grinds the weed down, then tips a stripe of it neatly across some rolling paper. His dexterous fingers pinch and tuck until a joint takes shape, a small strip of the paper poking out.

He holds it to your lips, brown eyes shimmering with warmth as he waits.

A Stevie Nicks song starts up on the radio, muffled by the trailer walls but crooning through all the same. This close to Eddie for the first time, you can smell him- balmy and spicy, like bergamot and Irish Spring.

You lean into the joint, licking across the paper in one unbroken motion. Your tongue catches on Eddie’s thumb when you pull away, and there’s a salt-warm taste that settles in your mouth.

“Good girl,” he says, in that low-toned voice, and you have to fight to keep your thighs from pressing together in your jeans.

“Wanna smoke here?” Eddie smooths the spit-damp end of the joint down, giving the end a twist. “Good way to test out the merchandise. First one’s free.”

You shake your head as he extends the joint- “I’m definitely paying you, Eddie. And no, I can’t smoke here.” With you being the unspoken addition to that sentence.

“Aw, shucks, sweetheart,” he drawls, devilish grin creeping back in, “You don’t trust me?”

“It’s not you I don’t trust,” you admit, before you can stop yourself.

His brows shoot up again, then waggle, obscenely. “Afraid I’m gonna be too tempting to resist once you’re in the clutches of the Green Dragon?”

Something like that, you think, wryly, but that fluttering is back and you really want to shut it up, so against your sensible, better judgment, you take the joint from Eddie’s hand.

“Got a light?”

You haven’t smoked in over a month, and with your tolerance so low two hits is all it takes to get you sprawled out on the living room floor, arms akimbo like you’re making a carpet snow angel.

Eddie’s a bit more restless in his high, plucking melodious and listless tunes from the couch with his guitar, one foot propped on the coffee table near your head.

Feeling loose-limbed and confident, you stare unabashed up at Eddie. He’d put his hair into a low bun, earlier, and there are a few dark tendrils swinging free around his neck with the rocking movements of his body to the music.

He hits a snag, string buzzing out a dissonant noise. “Can’t focus with you lookin’ at me.”

“Sorry,” you murmur, except you’re not at all. “Now you know how I feel all the time.”

He sticks his tongue out at you, your girlish tittering in answer; you pat the carpet beside your hip. “Come lay with me.”

His body responds easily to your request; Eddie props the guitar back up against the couch and stretches out next to you with a sigh, a wave of that smokey sweet smell coming with him.

Under your weed-filtered view, the popcorn ceiling above you is moving, whorling and undulating in the muted light. You’re feeling gutsy and sure of yourself as you ask aloud, “Do you really think I’m pretty?”

Your head turns so you can meet Eddie’s eyes, which are dancing across your face- cheek to lips to nose back up to eyes- and he doesn’t make a joke, this time, his words coming with weighty seriousness.

“Yeah, I do. I think you’re beautiful. Always have.”

“Always?” Your echo is a soft and seeking thing.

“Yeah, always,” he confirms, simply, as if it’s a fact of life. “Woulda made a move sooner, but you always seemed so…”

“Unapproachable? Aloof? Bitchy?” You fill the gap in his speech with adjectives that have been used to characterize you in the past- usually by boys in the heat of an argument over inconsequential things that have been lost to time, only the labels sticking around.

Eddie gives you a reproachful look. “No. I was gonna say, you seemed like you were always in your own world.”

This throws you for a loop. Neck on a swivel, you look back up at the ceiling as Eddie continues.

“I wanted to get to know you more, but I’ll be the first to admit I was intimidated by you. I mean, you’re way out of my league-” Eddie ignores the sardonic snort you give to this- “-and I just assumed asking you out would've ended with an epic crash and burn.”

The ceiling stops swaying, and you swivel back to hold Eddie’s eyes again, the weed making honesty easy. “I always kinda thought you were beautiful, too.”

Awash with the bravery that only comes from being in an altered state, you keep the momentum that’s aided by Eddie’s soft smile and push up on your elbows.

“I know what they call you.”

Eddie blinks up at you, then slowly, slowly, pushes himself up onto his elbows too. “Yeah?”

It’s a taunt, a dare, an I bet you won’t.

Shows how much he knows. When you’re drunk or stoned, he’d be hard pressed to find a bet you can’t win.

You say it, unwavering. “Eddie The Munch Munson.”

His lips fall open, leaning in towards you as if drawn by a magnet, and you think he’s gonna kiss you until he falls back against the carpet, scrubbing his hands down his face. “Shit. Fuck. We can’t do this.”

“Why not?” You’re a little taken aback, ‘cuz while it’s not an outright rejection, Eddie’s upping the drama, hands pressed into the sockets of his eyes, groaning as he tips into your side.

With his forehead pressed into the curve of your shoulder, he says softly, “I think we’re both a little too stoned to be thinking clearly. And I really, really want you to think clearly when it comes to this.”

“Comes to what?” You’re egging him on now, trailing your fingers up his bicep, coy and angelic.

He rolls away from you, making a pained noise with his face smushed into the carpet before pushing himself off the ground. “You know what, princess. New topic, for the love of god. You hungry?”

You are, actually, and when he extends his hand to help you up, you take it.

Eddie whips up a box of mac and cheese while you sit on a counter nearby, conversation engaging and fluid as he cooks.

Between interjections of ‘scuse me, angel, gotta get into this cabinet and can you take over stirring for a sec? you answer all his questions. You tell him your favorite bands, the states you’d visited on a road trip when you were six, even giving him the whole “my mom’s a nice enough person but we don’t get along” spiel that you don’t usually get to until a third date.

If that’s even what this is. He’s scooping steaming noodles into two bowls, passing you one, leaning up against the counter closest to the one you’re sat on. Your knee rubs against his ribcage as you eat.

In between chews, he lets you ask about himself- his favorite bands, the states he’s never been but wants to travel to someday, the highlights of his golden years with his mom that he misses every day.

There’s a quiet lull, after your bowls are scraped clean and set aside. He helps you off the counter and tells you to pick out a movie; you load The Black Cauldron into the VCR and settle into the couch cushion.

Eddie puts an arm around you, lets you play with his hands for the bulk of the film, running your nails methodically across his palms.

By the last act of the movie, you can feel your high beginning to fade, taking your courage with it; when the credits roll, you’re ready to call it quits and sleep off the hangover in your own bed.

“You sure you’re okay to drive?” Eddie asks, following after you as you tug your sneakers back on in the hall.

“Yeah, Eddie, I’ll be good. Thanks for the weed,” you say, pulling your jacket tight around your frame. “And for the- for everything.”

The smile appears again; the one that cuts deep dimples into his cheeks as he watches you step onto his porch.

When he says your name, you turn, keys in hand- “Yeah?”

Leaning into the doorframe like he had earlier, he cants his head, streetlight a warm glow across his cheeks. “You wanna know where I got my nickname, you come back in a few days. Sleep on it tonight.” And then he closes the door.

___

So, technically, he told you to come back in a few days, and showing up less than 24 hours later has to hint at being some sort of desperate.

Which, fuck it, you kinda are, at this point. Frankly it’s a miracle you’ve lasted this long what with the whole being plagued with visions of Eddie Munson’s hands and lips and hair and that stupid fucking nickname every waking and dreaming hour you’ve spent apart.

While you can appreciate the honorable nature of Eddie asking you to make a clear-headed decision, you’re wishing for a hundred things to take the edge off as you change out of the PJ’s you’ve been moping in all day.

Black tights stretch over your calves as you think of the whiskey you mom keeps hidden in the downstairs cabinet; denim miniskirt smoothed over your hips as you long for a deep hit of weed; hands shakily plucking your black tanktop into place as the urge to be anything but sober gets swallowed down.

You make the ten minute drive to Forest Hills in silence (relative to the weird engine noises your hunk of metal car decides to make), wracking your brain for silver-tongued excuses but instead drawing blank after blank.

By the time you’re rolling to a stop in front of Eddie’s trailer, you still have no idea what you’re gonna say to him- only that something needs to be said. Max is at the Sinclair’s for the night, one less person to worry about witnessing you slamming your car door shut and walking right up to Eddie on his front steps.

He’s wearing a pair of overalls, grease-stained, shirtless underneath- the tail end of a larger ink piece peeking out against his ribs. There’s a lone bike tire on the ground, held steady by the spokes his boot rests on as he wrenches the middle hub, biceps rippling and flexing with each movement.

Certainly a sight that would have stopped you in your tracks, on any other day. But you’re determined to have it out with the returning wingbeat behind your navel, planting your Converse in the gravel just before the first step that Eddie’s sat on.

He doesn’t seem surprised to see you this time, instead giving you a lazy smile on a half-tilt, wiping the tire oil from his hands onto the front of his overalls.

“What brings a fair maiden such as yourself to this ugly neck of the woods?” Eddie leans the tire up against the steps and rises to greet you.

You’re gonna lose what little nerve you have left if he touches you so you act quick, speaking as you cross your arms- “I need to tell you a few things.”

That stops him up short, just a few feet away as he inclines his head, hair loose around his bare shoulders. “I’m nothin’ but ears.”

A wet, rattling breath catches in your chest. You give a cursory scan around to confirm that the rest of the trailer park citizens are indoors, soft lights from rows of windows luminous against the darkening twilight sky.

“I have a… a thing,” you start, unsure of where to begin, really wishing you’d come up with a polished script on the ride over instead of being forced to flounder through for the right dialogue. “It started last year. With the mall fire?”

When Eddie nods his understanding, you continue, in short starts and bursts, like you’re fighting with the words before they come out.

“Something… happened. To Robin, and Steve, and to- to me. It was really bad, for awhile, and then it got better, but I’m still…” your hands squeeze tight into the flesh of your upper arms, nails stinging. “I’m fucked up from it. And the only way I can talk about it is if I’m fucked up, too. S’why I can only hold a conversation when I’m drunk or flirt while I’m high, like there’s this bad thing inside of me that I can’t look at when I’m sober-”

There’s a frantic edge that’s slipped in to your voice and Eddie steps towards you, as if to soothe, but you’re not ready to give in yet so you take a step back, choking out the last few words- “I just- I wish I could tell you everything, but I can’t, not yet, and I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

From somewhere in the forest behind, a bright chorus of crickets swells as you fix your focus on the ground, as Eddie’s boots crunch forward on the gravel, toe-to-toe with your sneakers.

He moves carefully, as if worried that you’ll spook- lightly brushing his fingers across yours, drawing your awareness to the fact that your nails are dangerously close to drawing blood, a sigh as you release.

“Thank you for telling me.” Unlike your own voice, his is low and sure as his thumbs brush against the red half-moons in your arms. “You’re really brave, you know that?”

He doesn’t leave room for you to dispute this, instead tracing the underside of your jaw with his knuckle, forcing you to hold his gaze, those deep brown eyes soft with empathy as he says, “I don’t have any expectations of you, ‘kay? I’ll be all ears when you need me to be, but you don’t have to spill all your secrets every time you come around. You wanna just watch shitty cartoons and keep my couch warm, that’s fine by me. Nothin’ else needs to happen.”

And it’s his acknowledgement of your admission, his softhearted way of letting you know that nothing needs to happen, that makes you brave.

Brave enough to tilt your chin into the lift of his finger as you say, “I didn’t just come here to apologize.”

You watch his Adam’s apple bob against the taut vein in his neck as he swallows, hard.

“Yeah?”

When you nod, Eddie blows out a breath and turns on his heel, motioning you to follow him up the stairs.

Your eagerness is obvious as you scramble up the steps after him, heart starting to thrum in tandem with the flutters as he shuts his front door behind the both of you.

“Take your shoes off,” is all he says, in a low, strained voice, before turning into the kitchen.

Obedient, you drop to one knee and jerk apart your sneaker laces with trembling hands.

Now on nyloned feet, you step onto the linoleum tile of Eddie’s kitchen. He’s faced away from you at the sink, taut lines of his shoulders rising and falling as he washes his hands.

“You’re sober?” He asks, still at the sink, drying his hands on a patterned teatowel.

When you realize he can’t see your nod, you speak- “Yes. Yeah. As a judge.”

A soft exhale through his nose, amused, as he finally turns to face you. Eddie’s eyes do that hypnotizing dance- skipping from your chin to your eyes to your lips back up again- and you let him, feeling exposed to the point of nakedness with the intensity of his focus.

“I want to hear you say it.”

The sentence winds through the air, joins the wings in your stomach, sits low in your belly as you shift your weight from side to side, a gentle rock to ease your flayed-alive nerves.

You say it. “I want your mouth.”

Eddie takes a step closer, nearly toe-to-toe with you again. Over the familiar layer of bergamot and fresh hand soap he smells like the outdoors, and faintly of mechanic oil, hearty and wild.

“Where?” It’s a single word, but with so much weight- suggestive, a taunt, an offer.

You breathe him in, eyes fluttering closed, ‘cuz brave as you’ve been it’s still hard to say some things while looking at him. “Want your mouth… on me.”

He crowds into your space, one hand gliding smoothly to set against your waist, the other fitted against your neck, tapping a thumb to your lips.

You part them, passive and wanting, but he doesn’t press his finger to the pad of your tongue like you’d hoped. Instead, he lets his thumb stroke to the corner of your mouth to make room for his own.

“Where?” he asks again, this time into your mouth. You can feel the tip of his nose graze yours, pinpricks of his hair tickling your cheeks.

“Please,” is all you manage this time, awash with heat when you feel his smile form.

“S’okay, sweetheart. I’ll work you up to it.” It’s a touch condescending, skirting that fine line between tease and mean, the same tone of voice that has your thighs pressing together.

And then, he gives you what you asked for. His plush lips- the ones that you’ve been fantasizing about for what feels like eons- are pressing against yours.

It’s a kiss that starts chaste, tender, but soon devolves into a heady, fevered thing when you push your tongue past the seam of his lips. He melts into you, using the hand he has on your face to keep you steady as he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth, grazing his teeth into the plush of it before going back to twining his tongue with yours.

There’s an audible wet click as he pulls away, both of your chests heaving in the quiet that follows; Eddie rests his forehead against yours briefly to catch his breath, and then he’s tugging you down the hall and into his room.

It’s pleasantly messy and lived-in, posters and photographs taking up most of the walls, guitar cables snaking and criss-crossing atop his dresser. You take a seat on the bed, hands tightening into the flannel duvet while Eddie begins to undo the buttons of his overall straps.

Wholly fascinated, you watch as he pushes the thick material from his body and kicks it to the side, leaving him in just his guitar pick necklace and a simple pair of black boxers. Now on full display, you drink in the sight of the most skin you’ve ever seen of his- tattoos at his chest and arms dark against the rest of him, pale and gleaming softly in the yellow light of the bedside lamp.

You’re trying to figure out if the larger piece on his ribs is a dragon or some other mythological creature when he moves in to sit next to you, his kisses erasing all thoughts.

Eddie’s making these throaty little noises as you kiss; his hands track lines from your hips to your sides to your shoulders, your chest unconsciously pressing into his touch.

When his thumb catches on the outline of your beaded nipple through your shirt, he hisses lightly, drawing back to look at you again- “Is this okay?”

You nod, but he doesn’t seem satisfied with that, tsking as he swipes with his thumb again, watching closely as you react silently to the touch.

“Hard to tell when you’re enjoying yourself if you’re quiet as a churchmouse,” Eddie says, in a tone that’s reminiscent of training a pet. “You gonna let me hear you?”

Your teeth catch on your lower lip as he thumbs across your nipple again, shockwaves coursing into goosebumps as you choke out, “I’m not s-so good at that. Not without- fuck- weed..”

Eddie huffs a laugh, a little derisive but you figure he’s probably got the right, seeing as how you’re this worked up and he’s barely touched you.

“You’re plenty good at this sober, sweetheart. Want me to prove it?”

His hand falls from your breast, extricates one of yours from the covers, and slides it up the meat of his thigh- then to the front of his boxers.

The first noise you make for him is a small gasp, one that matches his own as you cup your palm over the thick jut of his hard cock.

“Told you,” he says, sounding strung-out, his hand still closed around your wrist, “You’re doin’ just fine at working me up.”

You wrap your fingers around the bulge as best you can with the fabric of his boxers separating skin from skin, gaining confidence to explore as his grip on your wrist loosens. The black ink at his ribs expands and shrinks with the bellows of his breath, jolting and stuttering with each stroke of your hand.

Just as he’s drawing in a breath to speak, tightening his hold around your wrist in warning, you still your movements. Delicately, slowly, you slide out of his grasp and take his wrist in your hand, placing his palm on your own thigh.

The whole “reciprocating pleasure with sound” is still a hard one to give in to; maybe you can compensate for your hesitancy by showing instead of telling. You guide his hand up, into your skirt, parting your thighs until his fingers find the wetness soaking through both your panties and tights.

“Fucking… jesus.” Eddie moves with the fluid surety that you lack, middle finger running up the seam of your clothed pussy, your hips jerking reflexively when he catches against your clit. “This all for me, princess?”

In answer, you lean to bury your face into the crook of Eddie’s neck. He lets you, taking the opportunity to hook your leg over his thigh, spreading you out as much as your fitted denim skirt will allow.

You pant into the column of his throat as he strokes you through the light layers, the fabrics grinding friction into your clit caught under his fingertip. He rests his chin on the crown of your head, cooing praises that have your stomach muscles tensing.

“That’s it, good girl, such a good girl for me.”

Your clit is throbbing now as he rubs you in small, quick circles, and you’re so close to falling over the edge that you have to pull his hand away.

Eddie picks up on your unspoken plea; he tugs the skirt down your hips then tosses it blindly over his shoulder, reaching for the edge of your tights. He slips them down your thighs, your calves, peeling them off you with reverence. When all that’s left is your best pair of satin panties, he maneuvers you up against the headboard and stretches himself flat on his stomach, nose pressing into your core.

That heat has come back, flashing through you with a vengeance as Eddie mouths at your pussy through the satin, sloppily but with purpose enough to have your cunt clenching around nothing.

You stay up on your elbows, watching that mane of dark hair bracketed by your thighs, but when Eddie pulls your underwear down and off your ankle your weight falls back against the mattress.

The flat of his tongue licks a wide stripe from your weeping hole up to spread the wetness around your clit. When he sucks the bundle of nerves into his mouth, your head presses back into the covers, hands grappling above you for something to anchor your grasp.

When Eddie flicks the point of his tongue against that bright spot of nerves your hands find a pillow to grip, and when he moans into your pussy the vibrations have you instinctively pulling the pillow against your face, teeth biting into the fluff, masking the whine that would have been loud in the otherwise quiet room.

You think you might be able to get away with this setup (what with Eddie seemingly focused on making you explode into a million little pieces) but there’s a sharp smack before the outer skin of your thigh is burning, white-hot from the kiss of his rings.

Eddie’s mouth leaves you only for the time it takes for him to rip the pillow from your grasp and scold, “Uh uh, none of that, c’mon,” and then he’s back at your clit, suckling with renewed vengeance.

There are little stars bursting at the edges of your vision, your hands shooting down to grip at Eddie’s hair when he pistons the point of his tongue against you again. Your hips are subtly bucking into his mouth, shaking thighs involuntarily closing around his ears. Normally you’d be concerned about Eddie’s air intake but going off the moans he’s burying in your pussy, you’d hazard a guess that he’s really into it.

As if in confirmation, he pulls off your clit with a wet pop, laving his tongue up the junction where thigh meets pelvis, voice sounding wrecked- “Doin’ so good, sweetheart. Fuck, you got me so hard. Gonna blow a load in my boxers like a teenager, y’taste so good. Gonna let me hear you? Hm? Wanna hear you.”

You’re dizzy with want as you prop yourself on your elbows again, mouth falling open as Eddie sinks two of his fingers up to the ringed knuckle inside your velvet walls.

His other hand comes to rest on the soft curve of your stomach, pinning you in place, before he looks up at you, black pupils nearly eclipsing the chocolate brown.

“What do you want?” he asks again, patiently, as if he doesn’t have two fingers nestled inside your cunt.

Your efforts to grind into him are stopped with his firm hold on your middle, and he tuts at you again- but instead of a reprimand, he seems to soften a bit.

“C’mon, angel,” Eddie says, with such tenderness that makes tears prick at the corner of your eyes. He presses his lips to the inside of your thigh before encouraging, “Lemme hear you say it, and I’ll make it so good for you. Promise.”

“Want you to make me come. Please.” Your voice is unsteady, but it’s audible enough.

Eddie rewards you by sinking his fingers further, to the hilt, heel of his palm catching against your clit. When you let out a warbling moan, he nods- “That’s it,”- before setting a steady rhythm for fucking his fingers up into you.

“Fuck, Eddie- fu-uck…” you’re trying, really trying to stay in the moment and not get caught up in the noises you’re making- for him.

When Eddie reattaches his mouth to your throbbing clit and angles his fingers to hit into that soft, spongy spot with each thrust, you feel waves of pleasure start to wash through you. There’s just time for a choked “Shit, Eddie, you’re gonna make me cum,” before you’re spasming around his fingers.

Somehow, you manage to stay on your elbows, bracing your body through the convulsive shocks, white-hot stars joining the wingbeat rhythm as Eddie takes you apart with his mouth and fingers.

He moans, long and low, fucking you through it and then some- your orgasm has been completely wrung out when you push at his forehead, whimpering at the overstimulation.

“No, baby, one more, please. Gimme one more,” Eddie lifts his head to plead with you, sweaty bangs glued to his forehead- and then he’s back between your legs.

It’s this moment that makes you retrospective. Sex with boys, in the past, has always been a quick means to an end: a few minutes of foreplay, tamping down your own pleasure for the sake of blowing off some steam.

But now, pleasure was being given to you in spades by Eddie Munson, and you wanted to give it back to him.

You come on his tongue and fingers, again, stomach tightening beneath his warm palm, and this time you really loose the sounds caught in your chest: a strangled mix of your bliss-soaked whines with his name, Eddie Eddie Eddie.

You feel the bed frame jolt below you both as Eddie’s hips thrust into the mattress in a frenzied tempo.

“Fuck me.” He pulls away, finally, panting into the side of your knee. He rests his head against your leg, lips tinged pink and shining wet, gazing at you with lust-blown eyes. “You are so fucking hot. Holy shit.”

Bashful as your peak wears off, you pull him forward so you don’t have to look at him when you whisper, “Yeah?”

“Yeah, princess,” he says, slumping against your chest and into your arms. “That’s going straight to my long-term spank bank. Number one. For sure.”

You slap playfully at his shoulder, and he rises on his elbows to kiss you- once on the lips, twice on the cheek- warm palms on the outside of your shoulders.

“Are you… d’you need any help?” you ask, reaching to tuck his hair behind his ears, feeling the crush of insecurity leech in. “I dunno if you even- I mean, did you…”

From all the physical activity, your breasts are half-spilled out of your bra, and Eddie bends to kiss at the tops of them, affectionately, shaking his head as he goes. “There is no world in which I would’ve lasted, just now. Very noble of you to assume, though.”

He grins at your giggle, then says- “I dunno about you, but I need some new underwear. Wanna borrow a pair of my boxers? Bet you’d look cute.”

________

Later, when you’re both cleaned up, dressed, and full from a pizza delivery, Eddie invites you outside for a smoke.

You sit with him on the porch couch, legs slung over his, a big flannel blanket shared over both your laps while he smokes with the hand that isn’t on your thigh.

There’s a crunching of wheels on gravel, and Max Mayfield’s bike lamp cuts through the dark.

“Hey, Heavy Metal,” she calls out, undoing her bike helmet and leaning her bike into its kickstand. “Are you done fixing up Lucas’s tires or do I have to keep hauling my ass all the way across town to see him?”

“I’ll have it done tomorrow, Red,” Eddie calls back, giving her a salute.

Halfway to her door, she remarks, “You two are gross, by the way,”

You cross your arms in the sweatshirt Eddie loaned you, slipping into irksome older sister mode easily. “So how’d it go with your boyfriend, tonight, Maxine?”

She flips you both off, but you catch the smile on her face before the front door bangs shut behind her.

Eddie chuckles, smoothing his palm up your thigh, then takes another drag. “You gotta come night smoke with me more often, angel. The streetlights suit you.”

“Gonna get me hooked on nicotine, too?” Your sock foot pokes him in the ribs and he tuts, snapping it up in his free hand and digging his thumb into the arch of your sole.

“Fuck no, your teeth are too pretty to ruin. Want you to come keep me company while I destroy my lungs.”

Another cloud of smoke lifts dreamily around Eddie’s face. His thumb is working wonders on the tense muscle of your foot as you tip your head to rest on the back of the couch. With the nearby streetlamp, his profile is cast in a warm glow; you do a dance of your own, eyes taking in the strong slope of his nose, tracking down to his lips, back up to the wild curls at his temple.

Eddie feels you staring, turns to fix you with a quit it look that you can’t help but laugh at- “What, so you’re the only one who’s allowed to stare?”

“That’s right,” he confirms, leaning forward to set his cig in an ashtray, bullying his way into your space, rings cold under your chin when he tilts your face towards his- “Gotta pay the piper for that obvious violation, sweetheart. Sorry. I don’t make the rules.”

This time, when the flutter within you kicks up, you have a place for it to go- melting softly into Eddie’s lips.

___________________

I wrote the last third of this while blasted please don’t judge too harshly lmao

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x shy! reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson smut #stranger things fic #eddie munson fic #robin buckley #steve harrington #mdni

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wanderingsimsfinds · 3 months

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WanderingSims Fave CC - Female Shoes List

1, 8 - Rollo-Rolls - 4t3 Darte77 Vans Old Skool & Converse All Star HT Sneakers

2 - rasso - Vans Sk8 Hi

3 - Pixicat - Vans

4 - InLightOfDust - Vans Conversion

5 - satellite-sims - 4t3 Leosims Vans

6, 36 - JamiesPlayHouse - 4t3 Logan Shoes & 4t3 Bernard Boots

7 - Suteflower - 4t3 Jius Platform Heeled Boots 01

9-11 - Rollo-Rolls - 4t3 Jius Platform Canvas Sneakers 01, Jius Low Top Sneakers 12, Jius Platform Sneakers 03

12 - Rollo-Rolls -4t3 Elliesimple Nike Tanjun

13 - Semller - Adidas Superstar

14 - Rollo-Rolls - 4t3 Serenity Elphie Pump

15, 18, 25-27, 47-48 - Rollo-Rolls - 4t3 Jius Floral Lace Up Brogues, 4t3 Jius Canvas Wedge Espadrilles, 4t3 Madlen Harlow Boots Low & High, 4t3 Jius Platform Pumps 01, 4t3 Jius Platform Sandals 05

16-17 - Rollo-Rolls - 4t3 Trillyke Jelly Platform Sandals (Both Versions) & 4t3 MMSIMS Primo Sandals

19, 21-22, 40 - Ameriko-Steelie - 4t3 Jius Bowknot Platform Loafers 01, 4t3 Arltos Long Boots, 4t3 Jius Y2K Loafers With Leg Warmers, 4t3 Jius Platform Leather Sandals 02

20 - Ameriko-Steelie - 4t3 Astya96 Lolita Platform Shoes

23 - KotaJose - 4t3 Trillkye Antifragile Boots

24 - bellakenobi - 4t3 Madlen Dusk Diva Boots

28 - LeahLillith - Mulder Platform Boots (TSR)

29 - Semller - UNIF Choke Boots

30-31 - Rollo-Rolls - 4t3 Jius Leather Platform Ankle Boots & 4t3 MMSIMS Daydream Boots

32 - Suteflower - 4t3 Jius Leather Ankle Boots 04

33 - JamiesPlayHouse - 4t3 Suede Ankle Boots

34 - Rollo-Rolls - 4t3 Jius Ankle Boots

35 - yesod-sims - 4t3 MMSIMS Dr Martens Molly

37-38 - Anzuchansims - Usamarusims Carnival Scene Shoes V1 & V2

39 - Pixicat - JC Scully

41 - Ameriko-Steelie - 4t3 Madlen Sweet Harmony Melody Shoes

42-45 - Rollo-Rolls - 4t3 Astya96 Cross Strap Platform Heeled Sandals, 4t3 Arltos Shoes N7 & 4t3 Arltos Shoes N109, 4t3 Elliesimple Block Heels

46 - lillka - Pretty Summer Shoes (TSR)

#cc list #ts3cc #s3cc #s3ccfinds

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teapartyprincess4two · 3 months

Text

Messy- J. Webber

pairing: Waitress!reader x Mechanic!Jake

classification: SMUT SMUT NO FLUFF

warnings: 18+, MDNI, literal sex, messy sex, public sex, facial, cream pie, cursing

inspiration: request

summary: Jake is a regular customer at the diner you work at, eating the same meal everyday before returning back to work. One day, when you’re taking his order, you can tell he has much more sinful intentions than a quick meal.

—

The diner is slow today, it always is on Sundays. You’ve had a total of 5 customers and it’s already past noon, making the day feel endless. You’re currently messing with the fryer in the kitchen. It turned off suddenly and now it won’t turn back on. “Stupid fucking fryer,” you grumble, clicking random buttons until it finally starts heating.

Suddenly the front doorbell rings, indicating a customer has entered the lobby. “Hello! I’ll be right with you!” you call out from the kitchen, peering your head over the order window to catch a glimpse of the customers. You instantly recognize that it’s Jake, he’s a regular customer and arrives everyday at exactly 12:30pm without fail.

Jake saunters in, dirty and sweaty from a hard days work. He works at an automotive repair shop that sits right on the corner of the street, choosing your diner everyday as his preferred dining spot. The walk from his car shop isn’t long, but he always leaves early so he misses the lunch rush.

Because he’s such a frequent customer, Jake knows the diner well, so he situates himself in the booth that gives him the best view of the kitchen. When he first started eating here, he realized that this booth provided him with a cinema worthy experience because he could watch you work as he enjoyed his meal.

You emerge from the kitchen with a big smile on your face, walking around the front counter and over to Jake’s table. “Can’t get enough of this place, huh?” you joke, retrieving a small notebook and ball point pen from the depths of your apron.

“Guess so,” Jake replies with a chuckle, folding his dirty hands over the table. They’re permanently stained with car oil, calloused by countless hours of manual labor. Your eyes travel from his broad, tattooed shoulders down to his folded arms, relishing in the way his sweat glistens in the sun that trickles in through the window. His white tank top is adorned with black smudges and stains, ripped and frayed along the edges. There’s dirt under his fingernails, a detail that you’d usually find disturbing, but it adds even more grit to Jake. You love the idea of being fucked by a hard working man who isn’t afraid to get dirty.

Jake’s messy look completely juxtaposes yours. You’re wearing your diner uniform, clad in a pastel pink dress and an apron so white it reflected the sun. Your hair is curled and pinned back, a matching pink bow dangling in between your bouncy strands. Stark white sneakers sway back and forth, as you wait patiently for Jake to order. You looked so clean, too clean, and Jake wanted to roam his hands all over you and watch how messy you could really get.

“So, your usual?” you ask, knowing Jake’s order by heart. Over the course of his visits, you’ve learned that Jake is a simple man. He orders the same thing everyday and although the food was slightly above average, he claimed it was his favorite as an excuse to watch you work.

Jake loved watching as you diligently wiped down tables, your hips rocking back and forth as you worked the rag into tough, grimy spots. When you were mopping, he’d scoot closer to the edge of his seat and watch you bend over as you rung out the mop. He especially loves watching as you walked over to his booth with his meal in hand, because once you arrive to the table you bend over just enough to expose the top of your breasts.

“You know how I like it, baby,” the nickname slips out naturally, the flirtatious undertones evident in Jake’s voice. At first you would become flustered with his incessant flirting, but now that you’re used to it, you get turned on. You feel like a car engine, revved up and ready to fuck some miles into him.

“Alright, it’ll be right out,” you reply with a playful smile, shoving the notepad and pen back into your apron before making your way back to the kitchen. Your hips sway as you walk away, the string of your apron slapping against your ass with each step.

Jake’s eyes are glued to you, mentally undressing you from across the room. He’s really hungry now, but not for the food.

—

20 minutes have passed and you’re still not back with his food. Jake isn’t the type to complain, but he knows it never takes you this long. Loud beeping rings throughout the diner, followed by a loud yell from the kitchen, “Ow! Fuck!” Metal clangs on the floor shortly after, a string of cuss words coming from you.

Jake’s natural instinct is to get up and check on you, but you come out from the kitchen before he can act on it. You’re pressing a cold, wet towel on your hand, “Sorry, it’s gonna be a while. The fryer’s been acting up all day and it just turned off. I burnt myself trying to fix it, but I popped your fries in the oven instead, okay?”

Jake sees the opportunity and takes it, “No problem. I can take a look at it if you want?” He’s an extremely handy man, and he’s hoping to get handsy with you if he plays his cards right.

“At what?” you ask confused, applying pressure to your hand.

“The fryer. I can try to fix it. It’ll only take a few minutes,” he replies, using his hands to push himself out of the booth. Before you can protest, Jake begins walking to the kitchen. His dirty work boots leave a trail of footprints on the floor as you follow closely behind, trying to keep up with his long strides. He quickly finds the fryer, following the smell of gas until he locates the source.

“No, it’s okay! I’ll just put in a work order,” you reason, watching as he kneels in front of the machine. You were beginning to panic, no one other than employees were allowed in the kitchen. What if your boss suddenly showed up and found him back here? Not to mention how unsanitary it was for him to be touching everything with his soiled hands.

“Yeah? And when will they finally come fix it?”

The question has you stumped, causing you to think for a while. The maintenance men usually didn’t come until weeks after the initial work order was put in, and working without a fryer for that long sounded like actual hell. That didn’t mean you wanted a customer working while on their lunch break, “Probably a couple of weeks, but it’s okay. It’s not a big deal, really!”

Your words fall on deaf ears though because Jake is opening the fryer hatch, a whiff of cooking oil and gas hitting him straight in the face. From that smell alone he immediately knew the problem, “Yeah, see, the gas line isn’t connected. One stray spark and this whole place is blowing up.”

Jake’s used to working in much hotter temperatures, surrounded daily by the summer weather and even hotter car engines. So, although the fryer is emitting a lot of heat, it’s nothing compared to what he deals with daily. He manages to find the main gas line, turning the nob off to ensure there isn’t any other leaks. After that, he swiftly turns the machine off before unscrewing a hot, black tube. He pulls the black tube off with a grunt, causing a loud hissing noise as the last bits of gas spill out.

“How do you know it’s the gas line?” you ask curiously, blissfully unaware and nose blind to the smell. “The smell,” he replies blatantly, strong hands removing random pieces from the machine. Well they were random to you, but Jake seemed to know the purpose of each piece.

The oven dings faintly in the background, indicating that the fries are finally done baking. You would love to stay and watch his arms flex as he worked, but you didn’t want to cause another hazard, “I’ll be back, those are the fries. I don’t want them to burn.”

He hums in response, the sound being followed by another animalistic grunt. You feel your core clench at the sound, there was something about him that made you want to push him to the ground and get messy.

You force yourself to look away, finally walking over to the oven to retrieve the fries before they burn.

—

The fryer was worse than either of you anticipated, causing Jake to spend more than a ‘few minutes’ working on it. He’s lying face up on the floor to get a better view, a broken down cardboard box is sprawled out under him to serve as a cushion and as a barrier from the cold floor.

Luckily you’ve only had one other customer since then and all they ordered was a drink, so you’ve been able to watch Jake work this entire time. Your pussy is throbbing at the possibilities, your mind delving into uncharted territory as you imagine what he’d look like under you.

Jake’s hips buck upward as he adjust himself, pushing himself further into the machine each time. Your eyes fall onto his crotch every time, you can’t help but stare and salivate at the growing bulge. He knows you’re watching and it’s turning him on.

“Here, hold this piece right… there,” he instructs, voice trailing off as his fingers pinch a wire in place. You comply, scooting closer so you can properly hold the wire in place. The position is uncomfortable though, your legs struggling to remain in place as you try not to fall on Jake.

After a while your legs start to hurt, trembling from the constant strain. “I can’t reach,” you explain, attempting to shift your weight so you’re comfortable.

Jake lifts his head up, careful not to hit it against the metal above him, as he peers at you. You were awkwardly reaching over him, one hand gripping onto the edge of the fryer as the other stretched to properly hold the wire in place. He looks down at your legs, watching as they shake before he accidentally catches a glimpse of your underwear.

“Here, just…” he begins to say, forgetting his sentence as his mind fills with sinful thoughts of you. He places his tools on the ground before taking a hold of your waist, dirty fingerprints immediately soaking into the fabric of your dress. He uses his hands to carefully guide you over him, stopping once you’re situated directly above his crotch.

“Try again,” he instructs, forcing himself to think about anything other than the newfound pressure you’re applying to him. You reposition the wire with your right hand, your left hand resting on Jake’s chest for support. Once the wire is in place, he scoots forward, his hips bucking up again as he does it. The rough material of his jeans rubs against your clothed pussy, causing you to squirm from above him. You’re forced to bite back a whine, realizing that this was not the time nor the place to be getting all riled up.

Jake is extremely concentrated, choosing to ignore the growing erection in his pants. “Hand me the pliers,” he says, but it comes out more like a command. His toolbox sits next to you, the short distance being close enough for you rummage through it quickly. You subconsciously grind down on his crotch, surprised to feel the outline of his dick through the thick material of his jeans.

His hands instinctively travel to your hips again, a firm grip willing you to stop your movements. “Sorry,” you murmur, becoming drunk on the idea of Jake fucking you long and hard on the kitchen floor.

Jake lets out a small groan, the innocence in your voice seducing him even further. “Here,” you whisper, eyes locking with his for a second through your long, thick eyelashes. He takes the pliers from you, forcing himself to return to the task at hand.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

You squirm from above him, wiggling so you can feel him again. Usually you wouldn’t be this bold, but your pussy is hungry and your mind is drunk. Jake chases the feeling too, wishing there was nothing to restrict him from feeling you entirely.

“Don’t look at you like what?”

“Like you want to fuck me,” he replies sternly, the heels of his boots digging into the floor as he drags himself out from under the fryer. The cardboard makes it easier for him to slide out and he’s strong enough to bring you with him, eliciting a gasp from you as you place your hands on his chest to anchor yourself.

He sits up, his left arm immediately wrapping around your waist in the process. “Don’t start something you can’t finish, princess,” he smirks, pushing you down onto his crotch.

Your hands gingerly rest on his shoulders as you look at him through hooded eyes, were you really going to do this? The sexual tension is blinding you, causing you to make yet another bold remark.

“What if I do want to fuck you?”

“That’s fine, baby. Just don’t complain when it gets messy,” he replies coyly, pulling you further into him. Jake’s plump lips latch onto yours, metal lip rings digging into your face. The pain only eggs you on, your hands traveling up his neck and tangling into his hair.

“So eager,” he murmurs into the kiss, scrunching your dress up around your abdomen. His hands find your ass, slapping and kneading the skin in his firm grip. Moans are slipping from you, all of them being swallowed by Jake as he hungrily kisses you back. Your hips grind onto him again, desperate for release.

You’re whimpering, trying to feel as much of him as possible through the multiple layers of fabric that separate you. “Patience, baby,” he moans, but even he’s becoming impatient.

It comes to no surprise when you scoot back onto his thigh and feverishly unzip his pants, he doesn’t protest either, instead he watches eagerly. You make swift work of his pants, Jake lifts his hips to help you tug them off. “I want you to make a mess on my face,” you whisper, hopping off of Jake’s lap so you can wiggle further down.

The suggestion makes Jake’s dick twitch, precum spilling out from the tip and soaking into his boxers. You pull his boxers down and they pool around his ankles alongside his pants. His dick stands up straight, and it’s so big you begin to wonder if this was a good idea. How was that supposed to fit inside of you?

Jake knows exactly what you’re thinking, smirking at the sight of you gawking over the size of his cock. You’re brave though, so you crawl closer to him and slowly begin pumping his shaft. His head is immediately thrown back in pleasure, your touch alone almost being enough for him to spill his seed onto your hand.

You wrap your lips around the tip, your head inching down to the base slowly. If you go any faster, you’ll surely gag around his cock and start crying. “Just like that,” he groans, swooping some of your hair out of your face with one hand as the other holds his dick in place for you. Your lips kiss his hand as you take as much of his as possible, your throat struggling to keep up with the sheer size of him.

His hips thrust into your mouth, eliciting a gag from you that flips a switch in Jake. He wants to hear that sound again and again, so he holds your head firmly and guides it up and down his cock repeatedly. Each time you reach the tip, you gasp for air before he’s pushing you back down again. Saliva is dripping down your chin and bubbling at the corners of your mouth, tricking far enough to coat Jake’s penis entirely.

“Making such a big mess, beautiful,” he grunts, pulling you away from him to get a better look at your face. Streaks of mascara run down your face, your hair is all over the place, and saliva is actively dribbling down your chin. “Come here, let me ruin you,” he instructs, pulling you back down so he can coat your face and uniform in his cum.

He pumps his cock aggressively over your face, watching with a slack jaw as you close your eyes and allow his cum to paint your face. You’re glazed in the liquid, squealing slightly at the new sensation. “Yummy,” you giggle, licking your lips to gather as much of it on your tongue as possible.

Jake isn’t done though, he’s fully prepared to go another round with you, but this time with his dick balls deep in you. Right as you’re about to continue, you hear the front doorbell ring.

“Hello?” a customer asks, peering over the counter in search of an employee. Luckily, because you’re on the floor, you’re perfectly out of view. Jake gets an idea, immediately pulling you onto his lap and pushing your panties to the side so aggressively they rip.

“Sit,” he commands, aligning his cock with your entrance. You look at him in shock and whisper shout, “there’s a customer!” He’s unrelenting, dragging the tip of his cock up your folds as a response. You bite your lip, accepting the challenge as you sit on his thick dick.

A small gasp escapes your mouth once you bottom out, the girth of his cock stretching your walls.

“Hello? Anybody there?!” The customer shouts, tiptoeing to see behind the order window and into the kitchen. They’re becoming more and more impatient by the second.

You begin bouncing on Jake’s dick, his hands leaving prints all over your dress. You’re a whimpering mess, the stretch being both pleasureful and painful.

“C’mon, princess, is anybody there?” he taunts, sucking on the skin of your neck. You pull him in closer by his neck, moaning into his ear as quietly as possible.

“I just want a coffee!” the customer pleads, still trying to find at least one employee. Jake slaps your ass, silently instructing you to respond.

“Take a seat! I’ll be right with you,” you squeak out, trying not to sound like you’re getting your brains fucked out. Jake is satisfied with your response, arms wrapping around your waist as he pulls you down harder on him.

“You’re making me wait for a coffee?!”

Jake’s angles you forward so he can fuck you harder, his head resting on your chest. “I’m fixing the- fuck,” you begin, but Jake hits a spot inside of you that has you clenching around him. “What are you fixing?” Jake questions, loving how flustered you are.

“I’m fixing the fryer,” you spew out, the lame excuse annoying the customer further. The euphoric feeling in your pussy is enough to wash away any anxiety you feel, your walls clenching around Jake with each thrust.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he moans, his orgasm from earlier catching up to him. “Cum in me,” you demand, so drunk off his dick that you don’t realize what you said. The idea is enticing, so enticing that Jake doesn’t second guess it either.

One last thrust has him spilling his hot seed inside of you, the warm feeling sending you over the edge shortly after.

“Just a coffee! UNBELIEVABLE.”

“I’m coming,” you yelp, as your orgasm washes over you. You’re whimpering, moaning, and panting as you convulse around Jake’s cock. The statement puts a smirk on his face, you were definitely coming.

Once you come down from your orgasm, Jake is pulling you off of him slowly. You look like a beautiful mess. White liquid drips from your hole down your thighs, your underwear is ripped, your dress is stained from Jake’s oily hands, streaks of mascara run down your cheeks, your face is coated in cum, and your hair is tangled.

“Go get him his coffee,” Jake teases, watching as you slowly realize how crazy you look right now. He slaps your ass one last time before you’re hopping off of him, adjusting your dress and smoothing your hair down haphazardly.

You grab a napkin, running it across your face as you try and clean yourself up as best as possible. It’s no use, you look a mess. Without another word, you’re stumbling out into the lobby.

—

MASTERLIST

A/n:

BARK BARK BARK

First Jake story

MeOWWWWW

- L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

—

taglist: @nicksmainbitch @sturniololovers @mayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @gnxosblog @meg-sturniolo @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattnchrisworld @sanyi5 @lustfulslxt @whicked-hazlatwhore @tworosesblackthorn @mxqdii

note: if you want to be tagged in my fanfic related posts, you can access my TAGLIST and comment 💐

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breeloveschris · 4 months

Text

If Only You Knew

Pt 2

Pairing: Matt Sturniolo X Reader

Summery: Y/n has the biggest crush on Matthew Sturniolo but Matt doesn’t know she exists until Y/n’s video goes viral and everyone tags him in it

Warnings: cussing

Y/n’s pov:

Me and my bestfriend Nia were hanging out in our shared apartment in LA just watching the sturniolo triplets on our tv. “Bro I’d give my left lung just for Matt sturniolo to be my boyfriend.” I said with a laugh. Nia looks at me like I’m stupid. “What??” I said in a higher pitch. “Girl are you blind?? Obviously the hottest triplet is Chris” she says pointing at the screen. “Okay let’s be real.. hottest triplet obviously goes to Nick” I said with a shrug, Nia’s now pointing at me jumping up. “Nah bro honestly man’s fineeee” she said jumping. We both fell over laughing.

“I’m gonna post a tik tok about the triplets.. well about Matt” I said opening my phone. “Girl what if he sees it? You gotta remember you have 80k on tik tok” Nia says with a short laugh. I froze, lowkey want him to see it but like what if he thinks I’m weird. “Wait, should I do it then?” I say with seriousness in my voice. “Hell yea cause what if he thinks your hot and y’all fall in love” she says pointing at me with raised eyebrows. “Nah he probably won’t even see it, let’s be honest” I say laughing while going through saved sounds looking for a good one too use.

I finally found one to use, I picked the sound that goes “oh my.. good looking boy”. This might start drama but who cares. I giggle at the thought of these girls coming at me for this. I pick a picture of me standing in front of the mirror with my hair down wearing black cargos with a pink cami top with lace and a pair of pink Jordan’s for the oh my part. For good looking boy I chose a picture of Matt where he was also wearing pink. I watched it over and over and damn we looked great together. “Nia look I made it!!” I said yelling even tho she was sitting right beside me.

“Girl why the fuck you yelling, im sitting not even 5 feet away from you” she says laughing. “Just look.” I said passing her my phone. She watches it with a smirk. “You’re gonna get so much hate for this” Nia says with a laugh. “Yeah but like who cares it’s just a joke” I said taking my phone back, “I’m even gonna tag him just for the hell of it” I said adding his name to the tag and making the caption “me and babydoll are goals 🤘🏼😓”. I pressed post and exited out of the app not even wanting to deal with it right just yet. We continue watching YouTube for about an hour before Nia speaks up. “Yo I’m low key hungry as hell” she said throwing her head back. “Nah bro same, let’s get dressed up and go to BOA and act like we’re influences!” I said smirking and getting up.

We both got dressed in cute dresses and sneakers, Nia had on a white body-con dress on and some black sneakers. I did the opposite so we could get some cute pictures. We went to the store first and some man came up to us and asked us why we were in dresses and we told them and they laughed, he ended up giving Nia his number. Nia felt bad because she can never say no to anyone but she was never gonna call him. Nia drove down the street to BOA blaring ‘idol’ by the weekend. I took pictures of her while she danced, she took a few of me too when we got to the restaurant and we was waiting for valet to park our car.

We finally get seated after a 30 minute wait. “So how’s work going” I asked Nia as we sipped on our drinks. “It’s going good, Carly’s still a bitch tho” she said laughing. “You need to like ask for a different shift cause she’s been up your ass lately for real” I said while grabbing the menu. “I can’t because I’d have less hours and we have to pay rent some how”she pointed out with a sigh. Our rent is out the door expensive, one of the only downsides of living in LA. “Yea you might need that money” I said laughing while looking at Nia, she looks behind me and her smile dropped slightly. “Don’t look behind you but the triplets are behind you” she said looking at them.

“Girl you best be lying right now” i spoke with a smile. “I’m being so deadass” Nia said looking back at me with a smirk. “Do I go give them my lung?” I said dropping my smile to hide my smirk. Nia just laughs and shakes her head. I get up to go to the bathroom which is behind me, I turn around and see that they’re not even 4 tables down from us. I can see Matt and I almost faint, he’s just so fine. As I’m walking past their table to get to the bathroom I look ahead of myself so it doesn’t look like I’m staring, but I can still see in my peripherals. I can see Matt and Nick look at me and Nick interrupts Chris and said “I don’t know who that is but I need to be her friend” with a laugh.

I didn’t hear anything else that was said cause I was already to far before anyone said anything else. I get done in the bathroom and walk back out making my way back to my table. I can now see Chris and Nick since they were sitting on the opposite side of table. I only looked for point five seconds before looking at Nia with a smirk and she just shakes her head. As I’m walking up to the triplets table to walk past, nick waved at me. I smile brightly and wave back, “hey! I just wanted to say you’re so pretty and I love your dress” Nick said when I got to their table I stop and look at him with a smile. “Thank you! I got it from a thrift shop, one of my best finds honestly”

“Dude I love thrift shopping, honestly favorite thing to do on my free time.” Nick said smirking. I tried so hard not to look at Matt but I could feel him looking at me, so I looked at him and smiled, him smirking back at me. “If I could live in a thrift store I would” I said looking back and nick while laughing. “Before you go just wanted you to know that you’re so pretty” Nick said smiling, “thank you, but my friend’s waiting on me” I said smiling and waving. Nick waved back and I made my way back to Nia who looked shocked. “Why were you just talking to the triplets, and why did Matt smirk at you” Nia said as soon as I got to the table. I just laughed as I pulled out my chair. “Nick stopped me to tell me that I was pretty and he liked my dress, then we started to talk about thrift shopping” I said while sipping on my drink.

“Deadass??” Nia said in a whisper yell. “Yes bro why would I lie” I giggled, “did you tell them you were a fan?” She said with a smirk. “Honestly no, talking to them felt like we’ve been best friends for so long.” I said smiling. “What if they seen that tik tok or what if they will see it and then they know you’re a fan” she said worriedly. “Then they see that I’m a fan, I didn’t do anything I just talked to them like people Nia” I said letting out a soft laugh. “Y/n, Matt keeps looking over here” Nia said with a smirk. I just shrug while eating my food. “He could be looking at anything dont overthink it” I said just brushing it off. “Have you looked at your tik tok?” Nia said finishing her food. “No, and I don’t plan on it, not until we get home at least.” I said with a sigh.

“Alright, you ready to go?” Nia said after paying and getting up. “Absolutely” I said giggle as we made our way out of the restaurant. We were outside and there was a line for valet so while we waited we did a little photo shoot. As I was taking pictures of Nia someone jumped in her photo. I looked up after taking the picture seeing Nia and Chris standing beside her. I laugh and shake my head. “Holy shit you scared me” Nia said holding her heart. Chris laughs and says “I’m sorry, I had to get in the picture” he said. “That’s okay, I’m a huge fan so it makes it even funnier” Nia said laughing.

Chris looks at me and back at Nia “y’all are fans?” He said smiling and continuing “I didn’t know you were a fan” he said pointing at me. I just laughed “I didn’t think it was important” I said shrugging he smiles nodding. “Well do you guys wanna-” Chris starts but gets interrupted by Matt and Nick walking over to us. “Chris you can’t just leave cause you didn’t wanna pay the bill” Matt said shaking his head. “Is he bothering you guys?” Nick said with a laugh. “No, they’re fans. And I may have purposely photobombed..” he said looking at Nia for her name.

“Oh I’m Nia and that’s Y/n” she said smiling. “Ah yes I purposely photobombed Nia” he said with a smirk. Nick looks at me with a confused face, “Y/n I DIDNT know you was a fan?” He questioned. I shrugged and said “I didn’t think it was important, and plus we started talking about thrift shopping and that’s almost all thoughts out of my head” I finished off with a laugh. “Okay valid, y’all in line for valet?” Nick said pointing behind him. “Yeah but the lines so long we decided to do a photoshoot” Nia said laughing

“Well do you guys want a picture with us?” Matt speaking to us for the first time tonight. “Hell yea” Nia said with a smile. “Okay guys huddle up, I’ll take the picture” I said with a smirk pulling out my phone, they stood together and smiled. I took like 15 pictures from when they started to get in position and when they were getting out so Nia could have multiple to choose from. “What about you Y/n, do you want one” Chris said looking at me. “No it’s okay” I said smiling. “Cmon I thought you was a fan” Matt said smirking. “Yeah go stand beside Matt” Nia said smirking, I glared at Nia my face going red.

“Oh so your a Matt girl I see” Nick say with a smirk, Matt looks over at me with a smirk. I cover my face saying “shut up dude”, “cmon the lines moving” Chris says with a laugh. I uncover my face and walk over to them standing beside Matt and putting my hands around his and Nicks back. Matt putting his hand on my hip. I smiled for the pictures and we pulled apart. “It was nice meeting you guys” Nia said smiling at them. “Likewise” Matt said smirking. Nia hugs them, while I look at the pictures. “Where my hug at?” Nick says laughing, I put my phone back in my purse laughing. I pull him into a hug smiling, “it was really nice meeting you, also I’m sorry for not telling you I’m a fan I just got sidetracked” I said with a small laugh.

“No you’re good, It happens a lot actually” Nick said with a laugh. “Nick move, she’s gotta hug us all” Chris said pushing Nick and pulling me into a hug. “Dude you need to talk more, you’re so quiet” Chris said pulling away from the hug. “My bad, I get quiet around a lot of people” i shrugged. “Nah I get that, but it’s us you don’t gotta be quiet around us” Chris said smiling. I just laughed and shook my head as Matt and Nia walked over to us. Matt pulling me into a hug. “It was nice meeting you, since you’re a Matt girl and all” he said smirking. I hide my face again with a quiet “shut up” dragging out the P. Nia laughs taking my hands off my face. Matt just smirks at me when he sees his car pull up. “Bye you guys!” Nick said waving.

We got in the car, and started driving before Nia screamed. “Holy fuck, what the hell was that??” I said holding my chest with a laugh. “We just met the fucking triplets” Nia yelled. I couldn’t help but laugh, “and it felt like we were just hanging out with friends, also Matt was staring you down” Nia continues. “No he wasn’t, also you outing me in front of him?? What the fuck was that about” I said pointing at her, she just shrugs and said “yall looked hot beside each other”. “Fuck, I forgot to give him my lung” I said laughing, “dude shut up, you barely even talked, there was no way in hell you would’ve said that shit in front of him” she said laughing. “Yea, no your right but still” I said with a laugh

We got home and immediately ran inside both of us going to our rooms to change out of the dresses. I changed into pajama shorts and sports bra, throwing on a fresh love hoodie on. I walk back into the living room throwing on a random Sam and Colby video waiting for Nia to get back. “Look how Matt was holding your hip in this” Nia yelled walking into the living room. “I know it’s fucking crazy bro, I was like.. are you tryna get in my pants right now?” I said laughing. She sits down beside me looking at the picture. I finally mustered up the confidence to look at the tik tok. “Holy shit.” I said looking at the 100k likes and 6 thousand comments.

“What?” Nia asked still looking at her phone. I just hand her my phone. “Holy shit is right” Nia said laughing. “Everyone and their mother is tagging Matt and surprisingly not many hate comments.” She said looking at the comments. “Oh shit, Nick commented” she said, “oh my, what did he say” I said looking at her with fear. “He said 20 minutes ago “so Nia was right, you’re a Matt girl” and then tagged Matt himself” she said smirking. I looked at her like I just saw a ghost. “That means he’s definitely seeing it” Nia continued. “Dude no, he’s not allowed to” I said laughing while Nia passed me back my phone.

Me and Nia ended up saying goodnight and going to our rooms to go to bed. I’m just lying in bed thinking about today. I can’t believe Nick saw the tik tok and even tagged Matt, he’s gonna think I’m so weird. I lay there for about 2 hours just thinking before I finally fell asleep.

How do we feel about this series so far 🧐🥳

Taglist: @lacysturniolo @mattsaq @junnniiieee07 @sturniolosreads @creamoncreamoncream2 @robins-scoop @blahbel668 @carolsturns1 @sturniolopepsi @luverboychris @hearts4chris @freshloveforthefit @stuniolobbg @novasturniolo03 @alexb5598 @sturnioloa @nicksmainbitch @icedchailatee @bunbunbl0gs

#matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #christopher owen sturniolo #sturniolo #nate doe #nathan doe #mattsturniolo x reader #matthew bernard sturniolo #mattsturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #LA

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plaguedocboi · 5 months

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Bottomless Pits

We post holes here, sir.

Sinkholes, pit caves, wells and cenotes all have one thing in common; sometimes they’re bottomless. Not truly “bottomless”, of course, but in appearance, reputation, or of incredible depth. We’ve seen a few of these “bottomless pits” in prior lists such as the Lost Sea in Tennessee or the Devil’s Hole in Nevada, but today we will focus on those strange places in the earth that seem to be endless.

1. Laguna Kaan Luum, Mexico

This one threw me for a loop because I was originally only seeing pictures like the one above, so I was like ‘oh, that’s cool, so it’s kinda like Dean’s Blue Hole, where it’s an ocean sinkhole right off the shore…’

No. It’s not that. Let’s zoom out a bit.

Yeah. This is a lake with one giant sinkhole in the middle! It’s about 2,000 feet across and reaches depths of 278 feet, with the surrounding shallows a very pleasant 4 feet deep! I’m mostly including it on the list because the full image hit me like a bus.

2. Sima Humboldt, Venezuela

Tepuis are large plateau mountains found across Venezuela, often with sheer sides and inaccessible tops that inspired explorers to imagine dinosaurs still surviving on these isolated mesas. Even on their own, tepuis are incredible, beautiful and mysterious. Add a sinkhole with an even more isolated forest at the bottom, and you have all the ingredients for some crazy shit to happen. Sima Humboldt and Sima Martel are two enormous sinkholes at the top of Cerro Sarisariñama. Humboldt is the largest at over a thousand feet across and nearly the same in depth, with a jungle flourishing at the bottom. The sinkhole forests are home to many endemic species of both plant and animals, but so far, no prehistoric monsters have been found in any of them.

3. Well of Barhout, Yemen

The “well of hell” is a massive sinkhole in the desert, measuring about 100 feet in diameter and plunging down over 300 feet. Understandably, there are many myths and legends about this place, including a story about an evil djinn which lives at the bottom and takes the head of anyone foolish enough to climb in. In fact, so pervasive are these legends that the sinkhole was only formally explored in 2021! Luckily they did not find any evil spirits, but they did find stalagmites which reached 30 feet tall, cave pearls, and waterfalls which provided refuge for frogs and snakes.

4. Myakka sinkhole, Florida

This murky abyss is filled with more than just water, it is also home to over a hundred alligators. Due to the poor visibility and very high concentration of large carnivores, it is very difficult to study this pit. Only a few people have ever glimpsed the bottom of this 134-foot deep sinkhole, but apparently we aren’t missing much because the water down there is stagnant and inhospitable to most life. Exactly why this area is so popular among alligators is still unknown, but it’s likely due to a combination of food availability and ideal temperatures.

5. The Pit cenote, Mexico

Like Cenote Angelita, The Pit is a layered cenote. The first 88 feet is freshwater, then there is a “fog” of hydrogen sulfide, below which lies over 300 feet of brackish water. The Pit is a spectacular-looking cenote, with an almost otherworldly quality, which makes it very popular among divers. So far, this pit has been explored to a depth of 390 feet, but unexplored passages extend further.

6. Thor’s well, Oregon

Like a drainpipe continuously swallowing an unbroken stream of ocean water, Thor’s well is often likened to a bottomless pit. However, it is actually only about 20 feet deep, and the drain effect is due to the fact that it connects back to the ocean, not swallowing the water but simply rerouting it. This does not mean that there is no danger, though. The rocks are slippery and sharp, and this area sees a higher than average number of ‘sneaker waves’; waves that look normal as they roll in but are actually much larger than they appear, potentially sweeping people out to sea as they retreat. The true danger here is the ocean, not the well.

7. Vouliagmeni Lake, Greece

This incredibly beautiful saltwater lake has been rumored to have healing properties for thousands of years, and today continues to draw in visitors for its medicinal minerals and “doctor fish”. But this famous lake hides a secret; a labyrinth of caves whose depths have never been fully explored, and whose connection to the ocean remains undiscovered. Passages stretch over a mile into the mountains, with an average depth of 260 feet. The largest of these caverns is nearly 500 feet wide and full of warm sea water. Although a spectacular diving spot, these unknown caverns are best not underestimated.

8. Santa Rosa blue hole, New Mexico

A gorgeous natural swimming hole, this cenote is roughly 80 feet wide and 80 feet deep (in most places) and is a popular destination for tourists. It was also used for diving certification tests, until an incident in 1976. There is one spot in this picturesque cenote that goes down much further than 80 feet; the entrance to a cave. In the dark, twisting passages, two young divers got lost and died, and the cave was later sealed with a metal grate to prevent other divers from attempting to enter. The cave was mostly forgotten about until 2013, when cave divers were given permission to attempt to map the area. The blue hole is at least 200 feet deep, but the bottom of the cave still has not been found.

9. Roaring River Spring, Missouri

This turquoise river bubbles up from a ten-foot wide pool of deep water hidden within a sheer-sided canyon. But despite its peaceful appearance, this spring discharges 20 million gallons of water a day, and the exact source is still unknown. In 1979, divers attempted to map the cave, but reached a point 225 feet down where the passage constricted and had a water flow like “the force of an open fire hydrant”, preventing them from going any further. In 2020, divers waited until the water flow was lowest in the summer and descended to a depth of 472 feet with no bottom in sight, making this the deepest spring in the US!

10. Your Mom.

I jest, of course. Here’s the real one:

Hranice Abyss, Czech Republic

A tiny greenish lake in the forest is the opening to the deepest freshwater cave in the world, deeper than the Empire State Building is high and still seemingly bottomless. It is so deep that scientists think it may have been formed by a totally different process than most freshwater caves; instead of water eroding away the ground from above, it may have been created by acidic groundwater coming up from below. And this water is extremely acidic, able to burn a diver’s skin if not covered properly. This, combined with fallen trees and other debris, poor visibility, and the sheer vertical drop of the cave, creates incredibly dangerous conditions for diving. Because of this, no diver or ROV has reached the bottom yet. But with a recent study using seismic sensors, scientists have estimated that the abyss may be over a kilometer deep, twice what was previously thought.

#long post #water rating #bathophobia

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upsidedownwithsteve · 10 months

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Simmer #5

CH5. Wake 'n' Bake | The Menu [4.9K] Eddie Munson x shy fem!reader: a line cook au.

“Well, you don’t know what we can find. Why don’t you come with me, little girl? On a magic carpet ride.”

The diner was quiet and the radio was louder than usual, lilting through the kitchen and between the empty tables. It was a too hot Sunday, with most of the usual clientele swapping leather booths for loungers by the community pool. Only Mr Creel sat in his usual stool by the bar, parked perfectly underneath the TV screen that was playing the same old western movie that came on every day at three o’clock. Jonathan was manning the counter, pouring the old man refills when he grumbled, whistling as he went.

Everyone else had either gone home earlier or was preparing for the night shift that started at eight that evening. The diner was too hot, the old AC barely keeping up, blowing out a whisper of cool air that you and Jonathan had taken turns standing under, watching the glass door for any signs of life out on the street.

None came.

So you’d long taken off your apron and after some internal arguing with yourself, you had plucked up the courage to push the doors to the kitchen open. There wasn’t much happening there either. Eddie was the only chef in, clock watching until there was a customer to feed or for when Argyle would arrive to take over the next shift.

And now? Well, now you think you were just annoying him. But he was allowing it, and that was something.

“And what’s that?” You asked for the fourth time.

You were hunkered down on the stool you’d dragged over to Eddie’s station, elbows on the stainless steel and your cheeks squished between your hands as you watched the boy work. He’d told you and Jonathan he’d made some lunch, and after some back and forth (Eddie argued enough until Jonathan gave in), Eddie was making some ramen.

“It’s gochujang,” Eddie mumbled back. He was too busy concentrating as he tapped a teaspoon of the red paste into the pot on the stove. He was more relaxed than you’d seen him, with no big orders to cook, he’d been humming along to the radio, his curls knotted on the top of his head to keep himself cool. He’d merely smiled when you plopped yourself down at his table. “And if you ask me what something is again, m’gonna put you in this pot too.”

You didn’t take offence, not anymore. You scrunched your face at him. “Mean,” you said. “When’s it ready? It smells real good.”

“Soon. And I’m not mean,” he grumbled back, tossing some ramen noodles into the pot that had been ready to overspill with bubbles. “You’re annoying.”

You gasped, all faux dramatics. “And he’s rude too,” you told no one. You grinned when Eddie rolled his eyes and shook his head, but when he bent over to chop up some spring onion at a scarily fast speed, you saw him smile. “Can I do anything?”

“You could get us some drinks,” Eddie suggested and he peered out of the hatch at the empty tables. Mr Creel glared back. “Seeing as you know, you’re not doing anything. At all.”

You huffed but there was a laugh under it that Eddie was beginning to recognise. He raised his brows at you as you let your sneakers slap onto the floor, hands pushed to the worktop as if getting up was an awfully exhausting thing. “I suppose I could manage that,” you told him wistfully. “If you’ll cope without my help for five minutes.”

Eddie snorted, stirring a delicious smelling broth he had simmering in another pot. He levelled you with a stare that a month ago, would’ve made your stomach churn with nerves. “I’ll try,” he played along. “I’ll tell Jim it was your fault if the kitchen burns down though.”

“Snitch. Coke?” You asked him as you made your way to the door.

“Just the one line, sweetheart, I’m driving,” Eddie smirked back.

He had an adorable habit of letting his head tilt to the side when he joked with you, as rare as it sometimes could still be. Dimples in both cheeks, stray curls over those big eyes, thick lashes that he liked to bat at you when he thought he was being real funny. It was becoming a problem.

“You’re hilarious,” you told him flatly from the other side of the hatch, shooting some soda from the gun into a glass for him. “Jonathan, coke?” You called to the other boy from across the diner, holding up an empty glass for him too.

“Shhh!” Mr Creel hissed at you, teeth bared, brows furrowed and you grimaced back, a smile that wasn’t customer service worthy but you’d long learnt to stay away from him.

“God, stop annoying the customers,” Eddie told you when you came back in holding two pints of coke, he was grinning as he ladled your lunch into a big blue bowl, letting his eyes settle on you as you passed him his drink.

“Don’t tell Jim,” you joked, but the humour in your voice fell flat as you watched Eddie bring the glass to his lips and gulp the fizz down.

His neck bobbed as he swallowed, chin tilting up and back as he led his eyes flutter close and you could help but stare at the line of his jaw, the up and down of his Adam’s apple, the push of his lips against the cup. Your mouth felt dry, your head a little empty and when he opened his eyes and put the empty glass down, you were still staring.

“What?” Eddie was staring back.

You shook your head, words unable to form. You stuttered and stammered and shrugged your shoulders, gripping tightly to your own glass. “Nothing,” you finally managed. “What?”

“What?” Eddie squinted at you.

“What?” You asked again, before you could help yourself and you realised too late that you’d asked him a question there wasn’t even an answer to. “Shit.”

The corner of the boy’s mouth lifted and he looked at you, amused, if not a little concerned. “Okay,” he drawled, sliding your lunch over to you. “Here, eat. Lack of good food must be makin’ you loopy or somethin’, christ.”

So you ate in silence, sitting across from Eddie and exchanging shy smiles as he watched you hum at each flavour, nodding at Jonathan when he slapped him on the back in thanks, taking his own bowl outside so he could smoke at the same time. It was a new kind of friendship that still made you nervous, too aware when Eddie looked at you - like, really looked at you. Eyes earnerst, watching, gauging what you liked and what you didn’t. He knew that a scrunch of your nose meant you were unsure, a little taptaptap of your feet on the stool meant you loved it.

He still made you shy, even though you spoke more. Stomach dipping and somersaulting when he called your name out of the hatch, some kind of plate made up for you, grouching good naturedly about how you needed to stop skipping meals. It made your heart jolt when he got too close, when fingers brushed as he passed you a bowl of fruit, a sandwich you could inhale between serving tables.

But then again, maybe that wasn’t nerves. Maybe that was just the crush you were telling yourself you didn’t have.

It was becoming harder to lie.

“Good?” Eddie asked like always, letting his foot kick gently against yours. He’d finished his own bowl and was watching you with a fond look on his face as you wrestled with the last few noodles.

You nodded and hummed happily, “mhmm. Could’ve done with some more salt though.”

Eddie did a double take, lips parted to argue because he knew that broth was damn perfect, before he realised you were joking. He narrowed his eyes at your grin, tried to hide his own smile when you laughed.

“Oh, she’s actin’ real cute today, huh?” He snarked but everything about him told you he thought you were hilarious. He took your empty bowl from you, poked at your shoulder with a chopstick. “The self proclaimed crybaby s’gettin’ bold.”

It was a meaner type of teasing that you’d grown used to, but still, you wrinkled your nose at the boy as your cheeks burned, head ducking down at the memories of your teary eyed encounters with certain customers. You heard Eddie laugh as he dumped the bowls in the sink, but it wasn’t a cruel sound at all. And when you lifted your chin back up from your chest, he was back on the other side of the work station, elbows on the stainless steel and leaning over to you. Close. Closer than before.

You blinked and Eddie smiled, a lazy, knowing thing, his eyes darting over your face like he was able to read you. Maybe he could. “There she is,” he murmured softly. “Shy thing.”

“Oh my god,” you tried to joke weakly, your voice a soft, embarrassed drawl. “Stop.”

It made Eddie laugh, a wide grin pushing at his cheeks until the dimples you rarely got to see appeared. You wanted to push a finger to one, to see if the tip of it would fit perfectly into the dip. You sat on your hands instead.

“What?” The boy asked. “She’s got no jokes now?” But he smiled a little softer and went back to preparing the dough for tomorrow’s rolls, not saying anything else when you leaned back over the counter to watch. If you’d looked up, taken your eyes off the way his big hands kneaded at the sticky mess, you’d have caught the boy watching you, still smiling. Awfully fond.

—————

“Hey,” you interrupted a while later, once Robin had arrived to take over you shift, once Argyle was throwing some burgers on the grill for the customers that had finally shown up. “What’re you doing tonight?”

Eddie looked a little startled as he closed over his locker, chef whites in a bundle in his bag, ready for washing. He blinked at you, pretty, pouted lips parted as he wondered where this conversation would lead. “Uhh, I- I dunno. Probably gonna go home, roll a joint and wait for another day in this shithole to start. Why?”

You wondered if Eddie could hear your heartbeat. ‘Cause it echoed in your ears, inside your head. A thud that made your mouth feel a little dry and suddenly the bravery you’d felt when asking that question melted away with the boy’s gaze on you. You weren’t sure what you’d planned to ask. Maybe if he knew of any good films to rent. Maybe if there was a nice park to explore. Maybe if he’d want to hang out—

“That sounds like a really good night,” you said instead, a nervous laugh following your words and Eddie’s brows shot up in surprise.

“You smoke?” He asked in disbelief.

You shrugged, leaning back against your locker as you tried not to sound completely uncool. “Kinda? Not really. I don’t like to smoke it but- but I’d sometimes, you know, bake some brownies or something. I haven’t done it in a while, but—” you wrinkled your nose. “—moving to a new city really makes you wanna just… get really fucking high.”

Eddie was laughing and nodding, beaming at you with a pink flush covering his cheeks. You watched him swallow hard and then gesture to the door. He almost couldn’t meet your eyes when he said, “d’you, uh, wanna come hang out? Smoke with me?”

It took Eddie a whole ten minutes to drive to his house. A trailer that was tucked into the back of the park you passed every day. You shot him a look when he parked up and he rolled his eyes, like he knew what you were about to say.

“You drove me all the way home that day, when you live, like, seconds away from—“

“Oh, shut up,” he told you, scrunching his face. “It was a fuckin’ tsunami that day. You weren’t walkin’ anywhere.” He nipped his fingers playfully at your knee as he bent over to snatch his rucksack from the footwell. When he sat back up, he was too close. You held your breath. “Besides, Wayne told me I had to, remember?”

It was your turn to roll your eyes then, shoving at his shoulder as he cackled. “God, you’re such a gentleman.”

He was still laughing as he jumped out the van, surprising you as he appeared at your door to open it as you busied yourself with gathering your bag and jacket. Eddie waved his hand in a dramatic gesture as you got out, eyeing him suspiciously.

“I’m gentlemanly enough to be sharing my weed with you, sweetheart, don’t put me down too much.”

It made you soften and you followed him to his front door, the trailer humming from a generator you couldn’t see. “Thank you,” you told him shyly. “For this. For the invite.” Somewhere in an ugly part of your head, was an even uglier voice that was telling you you’d made him feel bad enough that he had to invite you. That he felt sorry for you.

You told it to shut up.

But Eddie turned the key and looked back at you over his shoulder, his eyes soft. “S’alright. What’re friends for?”

You blinked, unable to help the smile that spread across your lips. Your cheeks ached with it. “We’re friends, huh?”

Eddie walked into the trailer and waited for you to follow. “I know,” he drawled dramatically. “I don’t know how it happened either.” He was grinning, an awfully pretty thing.

You didn’t know what to say, or do, for that matter. This felt close to flirting, something that made that horrible crush you had rear up in interest, it’s heart pounding. But maybe that was just your own.

“Here,” Eddie gestured to a small dining booth, a c-shaped bench around a little table. He cleared a pile of laundry from it and looked flustered as he decided where to put it. It got thrown onto an armchair in the corner. “Sit down, you want a drink?”

That’s where you sat with a can of soda, watching with a stuck laugh in your throat as Eddie upended his tiny kitchen, looking for the bag of flour he insisted he had. “I swear, it’s in here,” he told you, holding various jars of spices and cake moulds. “What the fuck?”

“You’re supposed to be a chef, Eddie.”

“I know,” the boy wailed mournfully, swearing when he dropped a whole tub of dried fruit, chocolate sprinkles and vanilla pods. “Shit, kid. Looks like you’re gonna have to be a big girl and smoke up.”

He turned, raising his eyebrows at you like a challenge. You huffed, tipping your head back so he wouldn’t see the panic in your eyes. “Fine.”

And that’s how you ended up in Eddie’s bedroom, a space filled mostly with his double bed, a glaringly personal thing that you felt like you couldn't even look at. But he blushed and spread back the unmade sheets, fluffing up his pillows before he told you to make yourself at home. So you perched on the edge and toed your sneakers off, watching as Eddie flitted around his room, kicking things under the bed as he went, pushing cook books and comics back onto his shelves. Then he plopped himself down beside you, knees almost knocking, an old tin lunch-box on his lap. He flipped the lid and grinned as he produced an already rolled joint, wagging it in front of your face.

“A chef is always prepped,” he whispered conspiratorially.

“You’re a dork,” you whispered back but you leaned into his pillows as he brought it to his lips.

A lighter flickered, a flame lighting up his face in amber just for a second or two, and then he was blowing a cloud out towards his open window. You watched Eddie’s eyes shutter closed, pretty lashes fanning over his cheeks and his lips hung open for a second or two, letting out a sigh along with blue-grey smoke. He let his shoulders drop, his head roll. Melting, like butter in the heatwave.

Then, “here, have at it, sweetheart.” Eddie handed you the joint, careful that you didn’t burn yourself on the glowing ash. He watched you take it dubiously, eyeing it with caution as you prepared yourself to bring it to your lips. You cringed a little, inhaling too sharp, too quick, coughing it all back out before you could even inhale it properly.

You were mortified, coughing into your hand as you handed the joint back to Eddie blindly, eyes tearing up, blurring him and his room. He took it quick, making sympathetic noises as he rubbed his other hand down your spine. He waited until you wiped at your eyes, until you managed to catch your breath. “You alright?”

You wanted the ground to swallow you. “Mhmm,” you managed, keeping the heels of your palms pressed to your eyes, just so you wouldn’t have to look at him. “Sorry.”

“Nah,” Eddie said quietly, voice soft. “None of that, c’mon. You want another drink?”

You ignored him, reaching for the smoke instead, insistent on showing him you weren’t a complete loser. But Eddie tsked and held it out of your reach, frowning at you with concern. You wanted to tell him you’d almost missed that stitch between his brows. “Hey, woah, slow down, yeah?” Eddie knocked a hand into your knee, a comforting touch that didn’t push either of your boundaries. Yet. “You sure you wanna smoke? I can run back to Jim’s, see if I can smuggle some flour and we can make brow—”

You shook your head emphatically, not wanting to be any sort of annoyance. “No, no, it’s fine. I can try again.”

You weren’t sure if it was the setting sun that was coming through Eddie’s window that was turning his face fuschia, or if he was suddenly blushing something furious. It took him a second or two to meet your gaze and when he did, you saw a shyness there you’d never really seen before. Eddie was blushing.

“I could, uh,” the boy cleared his throat noisily, awkward and fumbling. He gestured to the joint he still held, to you, to himself. “I could, I could help. I could help you. You know?” He frowned at himself, annoyed at his own stuttering.

You frowned too, confused. “No?” You replied, unsure. Your hands were fisted in his sheets, a nervous reaction.

“Shotgun. I could, well— I could shotgun you.”

“Oh.”

The room suddenly felt infinitely smaller. Warm and intimate, soft with the last of the sunlight, dust motes floating in the rays that came through slats of the blinds. You were on Eddie Munson’s bed. With Eddie Munson. You sucked in a breath. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Eddie seemed as surprised as you were at your answer but you nodded firmly, keeping your gaze on his, your chin lifted in a boldness you so rarely felt. So Eddie nodded too. “Right. Um, yeah. Just— c’mere.”

It was a clumsy thing, the way you both shuffled closer, the mattress dipping, sheets rippling. You moved until your knees knocked against Eddie’s and he was watching you so carefully, cautious enough that you felt too shy, a burning in your chest that spread up across your neck, your face. Eddie was holding the joint out to the side, the smoke being drawn to the open window and you looked back and forth between the cigarette and the boy.

“Done this before?” Eddie asked you quietly.

It was suddenly silent in the trailer, in the whole park. Fuck, Hawkins had fallen asleep, you were sure of it, because looking at Eddie this close, you couldn’t hear the way the generators hummed, you couldn’t hear the crickets or cicadas, no car engines or muffled televisions. You could hear Eddie breathe though, normal enough before it hitched a little and he had to exhale that little bit heavier - like he was nervous too.

You shook your head and swiped your tongue over your bottom lip, chasing the taste of the orange soda you’d drank at the kitchen table. “No, never like this. I— I know what to do though.” You sounded so naïve, small and a little silly, but Eddie smiled and nodded encouragingly.

“Atta’ girl,” he murmured and then he was bringing the joint back to his lips. He spoke around it, muffled. “Ready, yeah?”

You watched the way his cheeks hollowed out, how his gaze got a little heavier even though he kept looking at you. And this time, instead of blowing the smoke out to the window, he leaned in, one hand holding the joint away from you both, the other gesturing for you to come closer. You obeyed, moving forward with your heart lodged in your throat. You moved until Eddie’s fingertips met your jaw, skimming over the skin there and he tapped gently with his thumb.

His gaze was lowered, lashes fanning out over his cheeks as he leaned in closer still, eyes searching yours for some kind of hesitation, a sign that you’d maybe changed your mind. And when he found none, he coaxed you a little further until his nose bumped yours and you gasped, lips parted and waiting. The boy opened his mouth, just barely, smoke slipping from between his lips and he gently blew it into yours. You didn’t realise how his hand had fallen to your neck, fingers curling around the sides of it, the cool metal of his rings on your overheated skin and the blunt scratch of his nails in your hair.

You inhaled, a shuddering breath, shaky from how close the boy was - nothing to do with the weed. Eddie’s hand on your throat made you feel higher than anything else had before. And when there was no smoke left, when the last of it had floated up towards the ceiling and had turned into wisps in the sunlight, neither of you moved. You were still close enough that your nose bumped his when you tilted your head and you could see the freckles on the bridge of it, the tiny silver coloured scar at the end of his right brow. You wondered what Eddie could see when he looked at you, if he’d find your imperfections, if he’d find them as pretty as you did his.

You watched as his eyes looked into your own, unabashed and completely shameless, like another hit of the joint made him a bit more bold than before. Maybe it had, because you were feeling fuzzy, a warm, heavy feeling pulling you into the mattress, into Eddie.

Your forehead touched his.

His thumb was on your jaw, tucked into the space underneath your ear and it was pressed there like he meant it. Like he wanted you to feel it and god, you did. You did. His eyes wandered, flicking from yours to your lips and back again, warmer than ever, a honey colour in the setting sun. You wondered what you both must’ve looked like, sitting cross legged and knees knocking on Eddie’s unmade bed, heads bent together like you were sharing secrets, like you were going to share more.

The boy swallowed harshly, Adam’s apple bobbing and his stare on your mouth and it all made you feel so heavy and warm and lightheaded at once. You weren’t sure if it was the weed, you weren’t sure if it was Eddie.

“Your eyes are really pretty,” he whispered and he sucked in a breath when your idle hands found his bare knees through the rips in his jeans.

You played with the frayed hem, the loose threads and tried not to squirm at such a compliment. You hummed, nose wrinkling even when you smiled. “Thank you,” you replied politely and just as quiet. “Your eyes are pretty too.”

The boy turned pink, a pretty flush over the bridge of his nose that you wanted to trace with your fingertip. He tilted his head, inspecting you, eyes flicking over each of your features like he was drawing you in his head. “You shouldn’t be handing out compliments,” he mumured bashfully. “Not when I was such a dick to you.”

You shrugged, smiling as you leaned back just a little, too focused on the way Eddie’s lips moved as he spoke. The small space you put between you both gave you some air and Eddie’s hand dropped from your neck to trail down your arm. His fingers found your ring, a dainty thing on your middle finger that was so different to his own that it was comical and he played with the gold as you did with the rips in his denim.

Touching. Still touching.

“S’okay,” you told him gently. “You’ve made up for it now.”

A wry smile, a thumb brushing over the inside of your palm. “I have?”

“Oh, yeah. Free food and free weed?” You grinned when Eddie scoffed. “What more could a girl want?”

It was a rhetorical question. Eddie knew that, but still, he hummed as if he were thinking about it, his fingers dancing over your wrist now, climbing, climbing, climbing. You wished he’d cup your jaw again, warm, wide hands making you feel small and soft.

“I dunno,” he mused. “What about a d—”

Whatever Eddie was going to say was interrupted by the opening of the trailer door. A sharp noise in the quiet and it rattled off of the wall as Wayne barged his way in, arms full of pizza boxes and a giant bottle of soda. “Ed!” He yelled out in greeting, oblivious. “Grubs up, boy, come get.”

It made you spring apart, the mattress squeaking obnoxiously at the movement and you burned at the noise, at what it made it sound like you were up to. You stared wide eyed at Eddie, like a teenager caught doing something they shouldn’t and suddenly you wondered if Wayne would shout at you both for getting high.

But then Eddie was yelling back something noncommittal as he got off the bed, looking back down at you with an amused expression. He bent at the knees, shins hitting the mattress and his hands found your knees where he squeezed them reassuringly. “Hey, hey,” he smiled like he found you funny. Maybe he did. “S’all good, relax. Wayne doesn’t care.”

You sucked in a breath and willed away the weed induced panic you could feel brewing in your stomach, a knotting of nerves that Eddie managed to unravel with the way his fingers smoothed over your lower thighs. So you smiled back and nodded even though you felt like cardboard and when Eddie offered his hand to help you stand, you took it.

“Hey, Wayne,” Eddie called out into the living room. “We got a dinner guest, that alright?”

You could hear the rustle of pizza boxes being opened, the smell of basil and tomatoes wafting through the trailer. Your stomach rumbled and Eddie laughed, chuckling harder when you batted the back of your hand into his side for his lack of manners.

“You can’t just announce that!” You hissed. “That’s so rude.”

Eddie rolled his eyes and then held out his hand to the bedroom door as if to say ‘see?’ when Wayne grunted and said, “If it’s Steve, tell him I ain’t paying extra for those damn mozzarella sticks when there’s already cheese on the pi— oh, hey, kid.”

Wayne looked surprised to see you as you shuffled out of Eddie’s bedroom in your socks. The boy had his hand on the small of your back as he coaxed you forward into the main space of the trailer. “Hi,” you waved shyly, watching with a hot face as Wayne looked at you, at his nephew and back again, brows raised in interest. “Sorry I interrupted your dinner plans, I—”

“Nonsense,” Wayne said at the same time as Eddie scoffed, “shut up.”

“C’mon, now, sit and grab a plate,” the older man urged. “Hope you like Jeopardy! ‘‘cause that’s pizza night tradition.”

You smiled and nodded as Eddie slid into the breakfast nook beside you, hips nudging yours as you budged up. And as Wayne argued with the remote control, the boy loaded up your plate with pizza slices, ignoring your protests completely.

“God, you’re such a feeder,” you joked weakly, still embarrassed to be crashing the Munson pizza night.

Wayne was still frowning at the buttons when he grunted and laughed. “Yep, the boy doesn’t know how to give someone a damn hug, but he’ll make sure you never go hungry. Gotta show love one way or another, huh?”

Nobody said anything and Wayne won the battle as the channel flicked over and the voice of Alex Trebek filled the room. You couldn’t quite look at Eddie and both of you sat side by side as you ate your pizza, Eddie’s curls hiding his face from view. You wondered if he was pink again, blushing and cursing out his uncle in his head.

You wondered if you should’ve said something.

But then, as if to prove some kind of point, Eddie barely glanced at you as he picked up the last slice of pepperoni from the box, and slid it onto your plate.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson imagine #linecook!eddie

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hellfire--cult · 11 months

Text

Edit of Eddie: Sofiiel

Stripper!Eddie x Shy!Fem!Reader

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 (end)

WC: 12.9k

⚠️ +18 MDNI, Stripper!Eddie, shyness towards men, nervousness, self-esteem issues, fluff of some sort, self doubt, flirting, soft touches, skin on skin contact, kissing, kissing with tongue, pining, Stripper!Billy and Stripper!Steve at the end.

Plot: You thought you were cursed with your shyness, but after one embarrassing night, you decide it's time to change, and you believe someone might be able to help with that.

Summary: You get to know Eddie in a more intimate way, and he helps you with something you didn't think he would agree to. But friends always help eachother.

Listen to the kissing scene here, with AI Eddie.

A/N: Can't even begin to describe how happy you guys made me with all of your reblogs and boosting this story in ways I didn't think could be done! Welcome to all new followers, to all new readers and thank you for your support!

You can always support me by hitting the reblog button with tags, and I always enjoy reading your comments!

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PART 4

You ran out of coffee. That’s the first thing you noticed this morning as you got up and wanted your shot of caffeine. The fact you would have to go out to go get a cup of coffee before starting your day at work, was already making you whine with exasperation.

You had a coffee machine at home because you always liked some nice, steamy, cup of coffee as soon as you woke up, but, you forgot to get it last time you went grocery shopping, swearing you had some, knowing you had some, so your best guess was that Robin snuck in and took it, forgetting to tell you.

You both have copies of your keys, because that’s the one lucky thing of having a friend in the same complex. If something seems out of the ordinary, or something happens at all, you could always go and check on eachother. It was safe, and you both liked feeling safe by one another.

But there were times where Robin would sneak in while you were out or something, or even sleeping, and she would get stuff she doesn’t have. You could go do that to her as well, but she probably used it all by now, so it was no use. You know Robin’s got a sweet stash at her home, so you always invade her property to steal some Reeses or some Musketeers.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, wearing your Pikachu PJs and groaned, knowing you had to change out of the comfy clothes to get into restraining ones. You looked at the clock, 8:10. You had fifty minutes before you got into work, so you moved quickly to get dressed, with the new clothes you got during last week.

After that meeting with Eddie and his friends, you’ve been shopping during the week, sometimes with Robin, sometimes by yourself, and you actually quite liked picking up clothes that no one could judge in the changing room but you and you only. You’ve gotten blouses, tank tops, a lot of colors, skirts, even shorts you felt comfortable in.

But you also bought something you never thought you would buy. A black piece of lingerie. Seeing it against your body, made you feel powerful, there was the obvious insecurity at the back of your throat and your mind, trying to tell you that you would not use it, that you don’t need it, that you don’t even look like the mannequin where it was displayed.

But you still felt that power. And you wanted it. So you got it. As well as a black stiletto dress, some heels, some accessories. Yes, your credit card bill will be something next month, but it was the first time you shopped, pushing so many negative thoughts away, listening to your gut only.

So, right now, you put on some pair of jeans and a pink blouse over you, throwing on your white sneakers as well, since it was just a trip to the coffee shop that was two blocks away from your apartment complex. You grabbed your purse, threw your cell phone in there and off you went, walking into the morning sun and the soft summer breeze hitting your skin as you walked.

The days were getting hotter, and you were happy to have A/C in your apartment and mostly in your room, because that would have been agonizing. You could see people in suits walking to get the bus, or going straight to their workplace, and of course the old ladies that took their morning walks with their little dogs.

You reached the coffee shop, small, but it served coffee. You never came here, always opting to go to starbucks or another shop, because here, in this particular shop, there was always–

“Hello! What can I get for you?” Your eyes finally focused on the pair of green ones in front of you. A small knot appeared in your belly, as the nerves vacated in your throat, looking at the guy in front of you. He had black hair, and a bright smile on his face, the apron of the shop sitting on his waist.

You licked your lips as you felt your fingertips warming up, as well as your ears, looking up at the menu as your brain started working once more. You scanned your options and took a deep breath in, pushing yourself to look down towards the guy’s eyes once again.

“I would like a medium coffee, with half creamer in it please.” You respond to him, no shakiness in your voice, no stuttering, you didn’t even think of the words, or process anything, you just talked. And he was a handsome young man, probably beginning his 20’s, but his eyes were sharp green, yet, you didn’t feel like running away.

“Sure thing! To go?” Was his next question and you wanted to nod, because it didn’t require for you to speak really, but you still did, just to prove yourself, just to feel prouder and feel your chest gleam with victory.

“Yes, please.” You grabbed your purse and found your hands steady, a little bit of coldness at the tip of your fingers, but nothing like before. Nothing like you would have acted before. You grabbed your wallet and took out the money, and you looked at the bill in your hand and the counter. You raised your head up again, and put the money in front of you for him to take from your hand.

He smiled and grabbed the bill from the other end, and you felt yourself blush slightly as you saw he was about to give you change.

“Keep it.” It wasn’t much, but this had made your day insanely better, by a mile, and it didn’t even start yet. The sun was up, yes, but it was too early in the morning. The guy smiled at you again, giving you a nod.

“Thank you lovely.” Oh, a pet name. Your heart picked up a pace as you smiled back at him, and his back finally turned, letting you exhale a shaky breath out of your lips. Your stomach was knotting, but you kept your gaze up, hand on the counter as you waited for him to finish your coffee. There was a part of you that wanted to run away, but because you didn’t know what to take of that pet name. Eddie says them all the time, so it’s nothing special, right? It’s just a way of calling someone.

He turned around with your coffee in hand, and slid it over to you with a smile to his face, which you returned, despite feeling your neck burning from nervousness, and you grabbed your cup, putting the strap of your purse over your shoulder. You cleared your throat slightly and pushed your limits once again.

“Have a good day.” You say to him and he gives you a small chuckle and a nod.

“You too Miss!” And that was that. You turned around and walked out of the door, with a small ding as you opened it. You were wide eyed, a huge grin on your face as you walked, trying to keep your excitement inside. A month ago, you wouldn’t have done that, there was no way you would have done something like that! You looked at him, straight in the eye and even held a conversation! Tipped him!

You were panting heavily as you finally reached your complex, looking at the time on your phone as you headed to Robin’s apartment. You had 20 minutes before logging into work, and you couldn’t wait. You couldn’t contain it inside yourself. You fumbled with the keys on her lock, and rushed inside, pushing the door closed with your foot and dropping everything, the cup of coffee and your purse on Robin’s table.

You rushed towards her room, already hearing the intense snoring your friend has, and you opened her door to see her hugging her pillow, while drooling all over it, one leg over the comforter as she slept on her side. You bit your lip as you tiptoed to her right side, and then lightly shook her shoulder.

“Robin… Robs…” You tried waking her up and all you got was a soft snore and a grunt.

“5 more minutes and I’ll get ready mom…” You giggled under your breath and shook her harder.

“Robin, wake up, I have to tell you something!” You exclaimed a little louder this time, and that made her head prop up from her pillow, doing a slurping sound as she put her spit back in her mouth, her hair almost looking like a nest.

“What the fuck are you doing? Its–” She double tapped the phone on her nightstand and looked at the time through half lidded eyes. “Almost 9 AM! I work at 10 and I wake up ten minutes before logging in.” She grunted out to you and you were still smiling widely and shaking her shoulder.

“But I need to tell you something! Look what I got!” You rushed outside the room to go grab the forgotten cup of coffee and then rushed back towards Robin’s room to see her sitting up, rubbing her eyes while yawning. You showed her your cup and she just looked at you as if you were completely insane.

“You got… Coffee?” And her eyes slightly widened as she rubbed her eyes with her fingers, pinching them as frustration hit her. “I took the last of your coffee, shit, forgot to tell you.”

“Robin, no! I got it from the coffee shop two blocks down!” You tried again and she just looked at you with a confused look on her face.

“I don’t know why you woke me up for, but I do not appreciate it–”

“The barista was a guy!”

And Robin sat there, looking at you, blinking slowly as your news sank in. She knew about the guy at that coffee shop, she buys her coffee there, while you drive around to look for Female baristas, but now you bought coffee from the same place she does. It was a family business and the guy is the son of the owner.

“You bought coffee…”

“Yes.”

“From the barista, who is a man.”

“Yes, and I said thank you, tipped him, gave the money in his hand and even wished him a good day without driving my eyes away.” You puffed out your chest as you took a sip of your coffee which was now cold, making you wince in disgust.

Robin slowly started smiling widely at you and she plopped herself onto the bed again with a cheer, excitement blooming in her chest for you, because this now offered you possibilities, chances, and it opened so many doors for you, the possibility of thousands of paths you could take.

“Holy shit! GOD BLESS STRIPPERS!” She yelled out loud which made you choke on the coffee you were sipping, and then trying to shush her through your coughs.

“Robin, shut up!” You laughed as you placed your cup on her night table, sitting next to her as she just stared at the ceiling with a wild look on her face.

“This is huge! Like, now you can talk to strangers! Like, complete strangers without knowing their name! This is a big step!” She giggled as she looked up at you and you were smiling, feeling your cheeks heat up slightly because of how proud you felt of yourself.

“He even called me Lovely, and I didn’t flinch! I blushed of course, but I stood my ground.” You tell her, and she sat up, pinching your cheek tightly.

“I am so proud of you…” And you knew she meant it as you pushed her away from the assault on your cheek, rubbing it afterwards as you laughed at her, but Robin’s smile faded slightly as she looked down at her hands. “What about the other girls? When will you tell them that you’re doing this?” She asked and yes, you have been keeping this a secret therapy from the other girls in the group, but because you wanted to surprise them, and you also felt too much pressure on yourself if many people knew about this.

“When I get a date… I will tell them. I just feel like I have to make them proud if I do tell them, like I will force myself to move rapidly and not at my own pace.” You try to explain and gladly Robin understood, giving you a nod. Her smile returned but in the shape of a smirk as she scooted closer to you.

“You gonna tell Eddie?” You looked at her and you felt a burning happening on your ears, and you felt a cold sweat going from the bottom of your neck and running towards your chest. “You still going to his house after work?” Your eyes widened as you jumped up from the bed.

“WORK!” You rushed out of the bedroom, leaving a laughing Robin trying to catch her breath on her bed. Of course, she couldn’t go back to sleep from the excitement now, and the fact that you would be going to Eddie’s later on was making even more excited.

Because she wasn’t invited this time.

You fixed your half ponytail again as you stood in front of Eddie’s apartment door. You chose a different outfit now, jeans, wide leg this time, and a tight crop top white T-shirt, that covers your belly button of course. You had some bunky white sneakers on your feet, and you had done some eyeliner, mascara, and covered a few marks on your face that were here and there.

The butterflies in your stomach were going wild as you waited for him, hearing the thumping coming closer to the door. Fridays were Eddie’s day off, so it would be just the two of you in his apartment. You doubted on saying yes to this when he invited you over, but you two were friends, it was something normal to do. So why are you still nervous?

The door opened and you looked up to see Eddie smiling down at you and his eyes widened slightly as he looked at you.

“All this for me?” He motioned towards your outfit and you couldn’t help the small smile that came up to your lips as well as a blush spreading on your cheeks, not expecting his praise. He opened his arms for you, raising his eyebrow up, hiding behind his fringe, his hair in a high bun, with some strands falling on his face.

You saw the black shirt, tightening on his chest and biceps as he opened his arms. The guitar pick hanging from his neck, and the black ripped pants on his legs, followed by some combat black boots. You rocked a bit on your heels as you got closer to him, feeling your stomach slowly rising to your throat. He was smirking as he wrapped his arms around you, not too tight, but it was enough to invade you with warmth, and his cologne penetrated your nostrils, making you feel slightly dizzy.

You gulped heavily as you slowly placed your cheek on his chest, feeling the warmth on your skin growing hotter, stiffening all over as his arms pressed onto your shoulders to pull you closer.

“Your arms around me, return my amazing warm hug.” He joked, but he was actually quite nervous about this. He had told you in the last video call that he would like to greet you properly with a hug, and you agreed, after catching your breath a few times, but you did. He felt his heart beat slightly faster as your perfume invaded his sense of smell, noting the sweetness of it, but also the powerful punch to it.

You raised your arms, feeling them tremble slightly, slowly putting your hands against his waist, almost a brush, not putting pressure on your grip and Eddie shook his head, you could feel over yours, which was making your blush deepen even more as the butterflies in your belly were creating hurricanes and tornadoes from how wild they were flying.

“Your arms, not just your hands. Wrap your arms around me Sweetheart.” You closed your eyes at the vibration on his chest as he talked, taking another deep breath in, guiding your hands towards his back to finally wrap your arms around his waist. He chuckled and finally squished you into him, making you choke up at the sudden gesture, your chest pressing against his harshly, knocking the air out of your lungs.

“Eddie, what the fuck–” You choked out with a weak voice and he finally pulled away, laughing at your reaction as you took many deep breaths to get your lungs to decompress again.

“That’s a guy friend hug for you. Come on, I’ll prepare us some nice drinks, and guess what!” He said excitedly as you walked into his apartment, the blush still spread on your cheeks as you held your chest.

“What?” He pointed towards the coffee table in front of the couch, and there you saw the bowl of Nachos and different smaller bowls that contained salsas and dip sauces. Your face lit up as you rushed towards to sit on the couch, grabbing onto one chip and dipping it into the Guacamole he prepared, taking it with one big bite. If there was something you really loved, it was Guacamole, because it was fresh, yet rich in flavor. It was perfect.

Eddie was biting his bottom lip as he saw your eyes close in delight and he almost choked on his saliva as a soft moan vibrated on your throat. He wasn’t ready for that. He really was not prepared for that sound. It caught him completely by surprise and now it was something he won’t be able to erase from his head anytime soon.

“Good?” He asked and you opened your eyes to smile at him, still chewing on the chip, nodding your head excitedly. He chuckles at your response, happy with it, and heads over to grab some beers from the fridge, taking off the caps with a bottle opener that is magnetized to the fridge itself. He returned to you, sitting right beside you as he handed the bottle to you.

“Oh!” You hurriedly swallowed your chip as you raised the bottle to cheer. “I will cheer because today I was able to buy coffee from a shop that has a working… male barista.” You say proudly with a smile on your face and Eddie’s turns into shock, mouth falling agape at you.

“Seriously?” He asked and you smiled at him, nodding excitedly, repeating the same steps you did as when you told Robin about it. He was amazed by you, really, slowly becoming confident, in the way you talk, dress, and most importantly, you are confident in being yourself. You don’t change your way of speaking, or your topics, or what you like just to fit in. This is what mattered the most. “Well, fuck sweetheart, congratulations to that!”

You both cheered with a clink of your bottles and instantly started to dig away onto the chips. Eddie was mesmerized at how you could work from home, because it would allow you to do many things whenever you have a few minutes to spare, and he was right. You often cleaned the house, or played on your Switch.

“Please tell me you play Mario Kart.” He said and you smirked at his words, finding out that he too owns a switch. So that was quickly plugged in, and the matches began, one after the other, Eddie choosing Mario, while you chose Peach.

You won every game.

“This is rigged. It’s absolutely rigged.” He exclaims, putting his controller on the table with a loud thud as he sipped on his beer with an angry frown on his face, while you wore a wide smile on yours, putting the controller on the coffee table too.

“I am just better than you in this.” You say cockily, catching him by surprise but it was indeed something you are confident in, so he will accept you being a brat for now. He sighed, shaking his head.

“I beat my brother every time, and he is like a major video game nerd. Always gets mad that this is something he can’t beat me at.” He laughs as he slumps back against the couch and you stare at him, deciding to take off your shoes, to be able to sit and turn to look at him, propping your feet up on the couch, right under you, almost in a kneeling position.

“You mentioned your brother before, also a Lord of the Rings fan.” You say to him and he chuckles, looking at you with a smile to his face. He made an ‘oh’ sound and moved slightly towards you to be able to pull the phone out of his back pocket.

“A little shit I tell you.” He opened the gallery on his phone and went to look for the photos of last christmas. He found one and smiled as he looked at it, handing the phone to you.

You almost snorted your beer out of your nose as you held Eddie’s phone. Eddie was wearing the ugliest christmas sweater you had ever seen, in the color of greens and reds, reindeers all over it, while the guy next to him, with curly hair as well, but did not share any of Eddie’s facial features, wore a Rudolph sweater, and the nose was lit up.

“Well, these are… some nice sweaters!” You choke out, and he took the phone back, laughing from your reaction as he put his phone onto the table again.

“Yeah, his mom bought them for us.” He replied and that caught your attention. His mom. Not their mom. He noticed how you tilted your head at the word and he straightened up, looking at you. “My parents have been gone since I was 10. My uncle Wayne took me in, and it was just the two of us, living in a small trailer in Hawkins. Poor man had to sleep on a pull out bed in the living room so I could have my own room.” He said with a soft chuckle as he looked at his rings, playing with them as a bit of nerves filled his voice.

Talking about his past was not something he ever liked doing, but in order to strengthen his relationship with you, he knew that this conversation was coming at some point. He was glad he had alcohol to do it, even if the story of his life didn’t end as tragically as he thought it would.

“Bet he took good care of you.” You comment and Eddie simply nodded at that, a small smile appearing in his lips.

“Yeah, I was a son of a bitch though. In order for some bills to be paid, I sold drugs at school, you know just your friendly metal head weed dealer.” You looked down at that, not because of disappointment of him, but to know that he had it that rough in his teenage years was making your chest feel some kind of pressure that you were not enjoying.

“Sometimes people have to do things in order to survive.�� You said this time and he smiled, taking your soft gesture at not making a big deal out of his past. He looked up at you with a smile to his face now, almost excitedly.

“But, when I was at a gig, playing with my band, I invited my Uncle and he showed up with a lady friend called Claudia. After that, they started dating, and I met my step brother, Dustin.” He positioned himself to begin talking with his hands from the excitement he was feeling and you were mesmerized by how entranced you were with him. “I mean, he is a nerd! Like me! Star Wars, Lord of the rings, Star Trek, Lost, The Walking Dead… We became inseparable just like that.”

You were smiling as you listened to him, he just seemed so happy about his family, about the person he is now, how despite it all he is still himself, not letting his circumstances change him or what he likes.

“You were in a band?” You asked him and he nodded at you, a small glint of sadness shining in his eyes for a second.

“Yeah, as you can see, I play guitar.” He said to you and motioned to one corner, where one electric guitar stood, a red one, and then next to it was an acoustic one. You nodded with an ‘oh’. “Apart from your job, what do you do?” You turned to him and frowned slightly as you thought about that.

You didn’t really have any hobbies, you just like to read, watch movies, play on your Switch every now and then, maybe baking sometimes when you feel inspired to do so, and now you feel a certain sense of embarrassment washing you over because of how boring you actually are. Think you are. You gazed down at your beer and fumbled with it with your fingers, clearing your throat.

“I– Uh… Don’t really do anything. I was as interesting as a slug, you know. Trying to just lay low, never really took an interest in anything.” Well that was depressing. Letting those words come out of your mouth, realizing that the person in front of you had a very exciting life, was slowly making you feel like curling into a ball and just staying there. Your brain was starting to work, and it began whispering things you didn’t want to hear, not with him.

‘You’re so boring, you should go.’

‘Why is he even friends with someone like you?’

“It’s okay to not have any interests. Better than having forced ones put on you.” You hear Eddie say as you look up to see him shooting a caring smile at you, your mind simply shutting off as you stared at him. “Steve for example, he was pushed to be captain of the Basketball team, Swimming Team, Soccer team… All because his parents wanted him to be the little star.” Eddie scoffed at that, shaking his head as he looked towards the living room.

“Really? And he didn’t want to do that?” You ask and Eddie simply laughs and shakes his head.

“Fuck no. Steve, believe it or not, fucking loves cooking. That guy can cook us a five star meal, out of thin air. He can make chicken nuggets taste like they were done by Gordon Ramsey himself.” You giggle at that, feeling your nerves slowly leaving your body as he talks to you.

“I have to try that, see if what you’re saying is true.” He laughs at that, and nods, taking a chip, dipping it into the Sour Cream and crunching on it.

“Yeah, ‘nd Billy? Billy was an asshole to Steve and I in high school. Also pushed over by his father to be the best of the school. Worse than Steve.” His expression turned sour at that, his smile falling as he looked at his beer. “When Steve and I found him on the street, with a concussion in his head… I think that’s when we decided we would take Billy with us, out of Hawkins.”

You were stunned to hear the story of these three men you met no more than a month ago, in the weirdest circumstance of all. You saw them almost naked, thinking that those three men would just be the snarkiest, or most flirtatious people you would ever meet, but there is always more under the skin, under the flesh, under any layer they had created to prevent from being hurt again.

“And… How did you… get the jobs you have now?” You asked him and he turned to you with a playful smile on his face.

“The first time we stepped on Indianapolis we got drunk, and went straight to a strip club, a female strip club. We were amazed by the amount of money they were getting on their thongs, like, I’m talking about thousands! We just looked at eachother and wondered if we had the power to do something like that… Turns out, we did.” He took a sip of his beer and got up to go fetch two new bottles as you put your empty one on the coffee table, taking hold of a chip.

“So, it’s not like a job you regret having.” You say to him and you hear him chuckle as two caps clinked onto the counter. He walked back towards you, handing you your third bottle of the night as he sat back next to you.

“Nah. It’s still work, and it pays really well, and you can also meet the strangest, yet greatest of people there too.” He says clinking his bottle on yours and you feel a blush coming up to your cheeks at that, smiling softly at him. His eyes were fixed on you, as you smiled and took a sip out of your bottle.

You are peeling your layers, one by one, slowly but surely becoming the person you probably always wanted to be, letting yourself be happy, and this goes beyond the talking to men thing. This was you finally having some confidence in yourself. Believing that you dressed nice, that you did your make up right, that you did your hair with confidence and you felt pretty in all of it.

Eddie was sure he was watching a butterfly coming out of their cocoon.

He cleared his throat and your eyes focused on him again as he shook his head to drive his attention away from you, just for a second. You tilted your head as you waited for him to talk, and after an ‘ah’ from his part, which made you giggle, he continued.

“So, let’s tackle the next scenario… What do you do on a date?” He asks you and you immediately straighten up, noticing the slight happy dizziness the alcohol was doing in your brain but you were still very much conscious, but your blood flow was betraying you, making you blush all over.

“W-What do you mean?” You ask, actually wanting him to be more specific, and he maneuvered his body to sit while facing you, just like you were doing with him.

“Well, what do you talk about? Do you know how to make a move?” You were supposed to make moves yourself? You slowly shook your head at him and he sighed at you. “Well, for example, on a date, you talk about very superficial stuff. Work, movies, food, music. That’s really the basic stuff.” You were mentally taking notes of that with a nod to your head.

“So, no talks about… politics, family, religion?” You ask him and he laughs at you, his dimples dipping into his cheeks and you felt the burning on your ears again as you saw his smile while he shook his head.

“No. And nothing deep either… A little bit of what we just did now, but less intimate. I ask about your workplace, you ask about mine. You ask about my hobbies, I ask about yours. Keep it simple and short, maybe throw a little funny story here and there about stuff.” You raised your eyebrow at that, confused by what he might mean.

“A funny story?” You ask him and he nods at you.

“Like, for example, when I asked you about your friends and you told me about Robin and the Raccoon, which it’s still very funny to imagine it till this day.” He says with a chuckle and you follow him with a giggle, catching onto what he was saying.

“Got it, funny works.” He nods at that, and you feel him getting closer to you.

“Alright, now… Normally, on dates, the men do not make any physical moves to show interest. That’s the lady’s job. If we are already engaging in a conversation with you, we are already interested, we are as simple as that… But a woman, you have to let us know you are interested, and that is all done with body language.” He finished and you were just blinking, almost wide eyed as he stared right back at you.

“B-Body language?” You ask him and he immediately laughs at your reaction, shaking his head.

“I’m not talking about pouncing on the guy. Look, I’m gonna touch you, okay?” He says this time and that for some reason sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt uncomfortable so you moved your legs a bit as he scooted closer. “Okay, so, one common move is laughing and placing your hand on the bicep.”

“Oh, I’ve seen that in a movie! Wait, that actually works?” You ask tilting your head slightly and he smiles at you, nodding his head.

“Like a charm. You just–” He made a funny laugh, sort of a Santa Claus one, making you laugh as well as he moved back and then forward again, putting his hand on your left bicep, running his fingers down for just one second and pulling back again. You felt the area where he touched grow hot, and you bit your bottom lip at how easy he was making this look. “You touch for a second, do not linger more than that, because that would be too obvious, or too desperate.”

“Oh? I mean, isn’t the whole idea of it for guys to know that I am interested though?” You asked and he nodded slightly to then shake his head afterwards.

“Yes and no. It’s confusing, but we do like a little bit of a chase. If we get it too easily, our interest kind of… fades away.” You grimaced at his words, showing him a look of slight disgust.

“And you guys say we are the complicated ones.” You say, taking a sip of your beer and he widens his eyes, looking at you, putting his arm along the backrest of the couch, towards you.

“Hey, we are very simple! In many, many aspects, sweetheart.” You were still facing him, biting onto the inside of your left cheek, trying to hide the smirk as you squinted at him.

“Like what? Throwing big rocks into a lake and rate the splash?” You ask as your left hand starts to slowly creep up on the back rest, without him noticing, a laugh vibrating in his throat at your words.

“Exactly, we just like a little bit of a struggle, that’s all. It makes the tension grow between you and your date.” He explained and your fingers found their way onto his right forearm which were still resting onto the backrest towards you. You hummed at that, taking a sip of your beer.

“But, wouldn’t you risk losing the date? What if you take too long and don’t give in in time?” You ask him as your fingers start to trace onto his bat tattoo, still looking at him. Your heart was beating with excitement as you saw him shiver slightly but was still not realizing you were touching him at all.

“We always give in, it’s at the third move that–'' He shivered again and his eyebrows knitted together as he felt the tingling sensation on his forearm. He looked at it and saw you passing your nails on his tattoos, and his belly twisted, simply and aggressively twisted. His intestines were knotting with each other and he was sure his brain short circuited. You were touching him. You were deliberately touching him, flirting with confidence, and you made sure he didn’t notice.

How long have you been touching him like that? And why does it feel so good when it’s just your nails brushing against his skin, tracing the drawings that were inked on him, and you weren’t even batting an eye at that. He slowly turned to look at you, and that’s when he saw your amused face, biting on your tongue as you smiled at him. A laugh started coming up on his throat, as his nerves flew away from his fingers.

“Shit, that was smooth Princess.” And to his dismay, you put your hand away, taking a sip of your beer. He was still staring at your movements, completely entranced. He was feeling his heart about to burst and he looked down at his beer, deciding this would be the last one for the night. Yep. It would be the last one.

“Thank you, I saw it on Friends.” You say with a wiggle of your eyebrows and he finally let out a cackle, amazed that you tried on a move from a tv show on him, and that it actually worked. He was slightly flustered and maybe that had to do with the alcohol in his system as well.

Your laughing slowly faded away as you looked down at your beer. The dread of the possibilities of what would happen after a move being made could trigger. Possibilities you weren’t sure if you’ve done right. Things you don’t know if you ever did, and what if it were done to you?

“Okay, what’s going on in that head of yours now?” Eddie asks, slightly worried at the change of expressions you just had. Were you regretting something? Maybe touching him?

“What if it goes well?” Was your simple question. Eddie blinked at that, not fully understanding what you were asking.

“What if… what goes well?”

“I-I mean, what if– What if the date goes well? What if–” You were a blushing mess, almost sweating as you tried to word your thoughts out without sounding like a child, without sounding pathetic, looking everywhere but his face. But Eddie’s eyes softened, looking at you, seeing you stammer in your words, trying to let them out of your mouth with no luck, but he knew exactly what you wanted to ask.

“You mean if he kisses you?” Your breath caught in your throat at that and you hid your face into your hands in shame. You’ve kissed before, but was it ever good? Was it enjoyable? Did you do it right? Did they do it right? You knew you didn’t put much effort into them because you just weren’t attracted to the people you’ve kissed, you just wanted the experience to be over with, just like your virginity.

But kissing someone attractive, you’ve never done that.

“Yeah… I mean– I can do it but… I don’t know if I did it right…” You said almost in a whisper, ashamed of your words, of being 25 years old and still worry about your kissing skills. Voicing your worries to a man that’s done more kissing than you did in your whole life, much more, way more. Eddie frowned at your words, and shifted on his seat, raising his hand up to put it under your chin for you to look at him. You slowly locked eyes with his and the feel of his hand on your skin, just made your butterflies flutter all inside of your belly, your head getting lighter at the touch. He smiled gently at you, pulling his hand away.

“Sweets, one thing you have to understand is… Attractive people don’t have superpowers.” He says to you and you frowned at that in confusion, tilting your head to the side while looking at him.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, just because a person is hot, doesn’t mean they are experts at everything. You can find hot people that are lousy kissers, bad at flirting, horrible at sex, like, finish in two seconds and that’s that. Hot people that are assholes, like certified with a capital A… Just because you find someone attractive, doesn’t mean they have more experience than you, in any way.”

You drank in his words, processing them in your head. You never thought of it like that, not ever. You just thought that people that are attractive have more chances of experiences, and that leads them to have some practice. Eddie was looking at how you were absorbing that information, and he noticed how your shoulders lost their tension, slumping down a bit on your body.

He was feeling the buzz of the beer as he took a sip from it and put it on the coffee table, a warmth expanding on his body as he scooted just one jump closer to you, which made you look at him again.

“I’ll tell you a secret, and you won’t tell them I told you okay?” He starts and you nod slowly at that, straightening up once again to listen to him. He smiled at you and continued. “So, you saw Steve. Fucking handsome right? With that hair, the freckles, fucking lady killer.”

“Y-Yeah.” You nodded slightly at that, feeling the anxiety of admitting Steve was hot not as painful as it once would have been.

“Yeah, he couldn’t kiss for shit.” Eddie says with a smile and your eyes widened at that, not believing what he was saying. A man like Steve? Not knowing how to kiss?! “You’re looking at me like I’m lying, but I swear I’m not. When we first started working at the club, and Steve kissed clients, they would complain to Joyce that he was too sloppy, too much saliva.”

“Oh god…” You giggle as you take a sip from your beer, wincing in disgust at the thought of a kiss with overloading saliva. Eddie laughed at that, nodding.

“Yep… He was so bummed out because he wanted to be one of the favorites and he knew that if he didn’t kiss he wasn’t going to get it. So… Billy helped.” You spat your drink away from Eddie at that and he started laughing hysterically at your reaction. Your eyes were almost bulging out of your sockets as you listened to that.

“Are you joking!?” He shakes his head at you, still laughing, his shoulders shaking up and down at the motion.

“Fuck no. Imagine my fucking shock when I came in here and I found them making out on the kitchen. It was traumatizing.” He says and your eyes were still like plates as you stared at him. “They aren’t dating if that’s what you are going yo ask, Steve is bisexual but Billy is straight. He just wanted to help Steve.” You blinked rapidly at that, and gave one nod, frowning at that. Friends helped eachother like that?

“So, that makes Billy a good kisser then.” You say and Eddie nods with a shrug.

“That must be, BUT, Billy was very forceful when handling the clients. Pulling their chairs, or turning them, or grabbing their shoulders. He really didn't know how to treat them.” He says and you tilted your head with a surprised ‘oh’ on your lips. Now what Eddie was saying about everyone, despite how they looked, had flaws was making more sense to you.

“So, Steve taught him to be gentle?” You asked and Eddie smirked, shaking his head and pointing at himself.

“Nope. That would be me. I taught him how to pull a chair with force but not a violent one, or how to grab a chin or a shoulder without digging his digits into the skin.” He explains and you were just staring at him, nodding at every word he was saying. You licked your lips as the nerves started forming a lump in your throat, looking down at your bottle of beer which was half empty by now.

“So, that would make you… Flawless?” You try to giggle and Eddie couldn’t help but feel his chest warm at your slight praise, but he was far from what you just said. He shook his head and smiled at you.

“Hell no… I couldn’t dance for shit.” He says to you and you raise your head up in complete surprise. “I didn’t know how to move my hips like Channing Tatum does, and Steve was the one to help with that. You might have noticed that night that out of the three of us, Steve is the one that moves the most.” You shook your head nervously at that, looking at the empty bowl of chips on the coffee table.

“That night is still kinda hazy, but I remember one thing or two.” You were sure you were a deep red now, remembering Steve on his knees as he prayed to Nancy, Billy’s hip grinding against Barb, and Eddie’s kiss and fingers down someone’s throat.

“So, yeah, we all have flaws, and we all have experience and inexperience.” He finishes saying, looking up at the ceiling, not noticing how you put the beer on the table, sitting up straight now, not facing him, your feet back on the floor as you fumbled with your hands on your knees.

The knots in your belly now turned into painful vines, full of thorns as your body burned in anticipation. You knew this would cross a line, you knew this was a big step, and you knew this was not right, and for some reason, you knew this would be a mistake.

But, there is also a part of you that knows you want this. And that part is winning over all of the other things that were stopping you.

“S-So… You guys helped each other.” You began talking and he shrugged, still looking up at the ceiling as he rested against the backrest of the couch.

“Yeah, cause we’re friends. It’s what friends do, have each other's back.” You nodded at that, slowly as you gulped down the lump that was forming in your throat and your feet turned cold.

“Friends…” You were almost breathing heavily, your nails digging onto your knees as your heart started beating into your ears, hearing every thump of it as it rapidly made your blood flow to every inch of your body. “A-And… We’re friends… right?”

Eddie’s eyes almost came out of his skull because of how wide he just stared at the ceiling. Were you actually asking him what he thought you were asking? Nah, it couldn’t be possible. It wasn’t real, right? He slowly looked down and you were already looking at him, jumping slightly as he locked eyes with you, making you flinch your gaze away in embarrassment.

He was still trying to understand that what you were asking was real. You wanted his help, but he was fighting with himself because he didn’t want you to think he was taking advantage of you for trusting him. He really didn’t want you to think that. But if you were the one asking…

“Sweets, are you asking me what I think you are asking me?” He asks, and he wants verbal confirmation, even if it takes you an eternity to say it, he will wait. His chest was hurting from how fast his heart was beating into it, and he wanted to punch it to make it calm down. You were a friend asking for help, he has to get a hold of himself.

“I-It’s stupid, don’t worry, f-forget what I just said!” Your mind was telling you to run away. You crossed the line, you fucked it up. Why would he want to kiss you anyways? You weren’t anything special, just a friend, and he kissed beautiful women almost every night. You were inexperienced, and you would probably fuck it up, completely and he would laugh at you, or what if he winces in disgust at you? What if–

“Darling, darling, darling… Calm down.” You felt his hand on your knee and your eyes looked down to your lap, not realizing that your legs had been jumping up and down uncontrollably. Your breathing was slightly heavy as you shook your head still looking down.

“I-I shouldn’t have– I mean– We’re-We’re friends–” And Eddie wasn’t going to let you belittle yourself. He knew what was coming next, so he stopped your rambling with just his voice.

“Honey, I would be honored to help you with this.”

Your body froze all of its movements. Your legs, your quivering lips, the digging of your nails on your jeans, and even your heart steadied itself, almost non beating. His hand was still on your knee and you saw him pulling it back to himself as he waited for you to reincorporate yourself.

Did he say honored? Why would he be honored? You have to stop thinking, you have to stop. You need to push the thoughts away, he said he will help you, it’s just that. Help. It doesn’t mean anything else, but a friend helping another friend. Nothing more. It’s nothing more.

You slowly turned your head to face him and he was wearing a soft encouraging smile as he looked at you. He wasn’t going to show his nervousness, and he didn’t even know what he was nervous about. He has kissed plenty of women in his lifetime, but you, for some reason, were making his knees tremble slightly, as well as feeling like bending over from the constant knot in his stomach.

“You okay?” He asked you and you were still looking at him, face red as you tried to mumble out words.

“Y-You’re sure you want to… kiss me?” You asked him and his eyebrows turned into a frown at your question. He knew there was more to it than simply asking him if he wanted to kiss a friend to help her. He knew there was something deeper behind those words, something darker.

“Darling, you’re fucking beautiful, I’d be more than honored to kiss you.” He said with a fist pump in the air to try to ease up the tense situation and it seems it worked, because you let out a soft huff, almost a giggle, and he saw your fingers no longer digging on your jeans. He took a deep breath in and positioned himself, sitting next to you, but facing you, crossed legs under him. “Okay, I need you to, first, let yourself go.”

He put his arms out and started shimming all over, just moving all his arms and body erratically as if trying to get a bug away from him. You laughed at his movements and sat in the same position, facing him and shaking yourself to lose the tension on your body, making him laugh at you, scanning you all over for a second as you joined him in the laughter.

This moment right here between you two, was too easy, too natural, and it felt as if it were right, and it had always been destiny that you two should meet. He was enjoying this moment with you, finally something different in his daily life. His calls with you, whenever you show him a new piece of clothing you got for yourself, and it wasn’t only with him.

Steve and Robin talked privately too, but it was as if they were soulmates, long lost souls that should have been together a long time ago. Platonically. He wondered if that was the same with you. If your relationship was platonic of some sort, only focused on it being friendship… And there’s another part of him that wished it wasn’t that.

“Right so… I’m going to start slow, okay? So first things first.” He grabbed your hand gently, pulling it up towards his lips to finally press them against your knuckles. You took a sharp intake of breath at that, feeling him against your skin in this way was something you were not really prepared for. You shivered at his touch, and you felt your belly just yearning for more, your mind no longer wanting to run away. He lingered his lips there, looking at your reaction until you met his eyes again and you took a deep breath in with a nod.

Eddie now knew you were okay with his touch, putting your hand down once again. He licked his lips in anticipation as he looked into your eyes who were looking at him with expectation, waiting for his next move. He raised his hand up towards your right cheek and leaned forward. Your breath completely stopped as you felt your stomach just contract on itself, shutting your eyes tightly and bracing for what he was going to do, until you felt his lips press gently onto your left cheek.

It was burning your skin almost.

“No need to act so pained about it.” He let out a nervous chuckle out of his lips as he saw your scrunched up face. You opened your eyes to see him looking at you again, and dropping his hand down from your face. “Okay, now, I want you to reciprocate that. Kiss my cheek, I’ll close my eyes so you can be comfortable.”

When Eddie closed his eyes, you couldn’t help but stare at him. He just looked way too beautiful, untouchable almost, tingles going from the bottom of your neck to the tip of your fingers. Your heart was painfully beating into your chest cavity as you slowly leaned in, keeping your eyes open just to not miss the spot on his left cheek. You had to press your hands on his knees to keep yourself stable as your lips inched closer to his skin.

You held your breath in as you finally pressed your flesh with his, yours soft, plump against a warm cheek that was tinting itself in a pink hue. You let the air leave your lung as you rapidly sat back in place, taking your hands away from his knees. He gulped heavily as he composed himself, opening his eyes to look at you.

Your eyes were on your lap as you fumbled with your fingers, and he wanted to laugh, almost giggling he could say at how red you were looking. But he wasn’t going to do that, because you were doing good, great even, but now comes the difficult part, one of the few.

“That was soft sweetheart, thank you.” You almost whined at the praise but because you just felt getting redder and redder from embarrassment and adrenaline. You slowly looked up at him, and you suddenly saw the hint of nervousness cross his features, making your eyebrows twitch in confusion. “Um… Now, I will give you a peck on the lips. You can close your eyes this time, and then I want you to give one back to me, that okay?”

Oh, your breathing quickened at that. You clenched your fists tightly, closing your eyes as you nodded at him, barely, but he could figure it out. He raised a hand up, and he noticed the particular shakiness at the tip of his fingers, frowning at them because he never twitched. He never trembled. He never got nervous. He held onto your left cheek and you jumped slightly at the touch, not expecting it and you tightened your lips together. He chuckled with a shake of his head.

“Don’t tighten your lips. Relax angel, it’s just me.” He softly says and the way his voice sounds on your ears, make you actually slump a little bit, relax your muscles as well as your lips. He looked down at them, feeling his breathing quicken its pace, but he held those breaths in, trying to not show how he was feeling to you, which he didn’t even know what feelings he was feeling himself.

He leaned down, pulling your face towards him, slowly and agonizingly. You wanted to open your eyes to see how far he was from you, as your belly just screamed at you to lean closer, but you stayed put. Waiting, and after what felt like ages, in the darkness behind your eyelids, you finally felt his lips connect with yours. A sharp intake of breath was taken on your part due to the shock, and also because of how surprisingly soft he was being. A soft subtle moan vibrated in your throat at the touch and he had to contain the urge to move his lips on yours, wanting to devour you. Your hands itched with the need of grabbing onto him, and it was shocking you because you never felt this. You never felt the need for more.

Because that’s all you could think about now. More. You wanted more.

He pulled away from you, the peck being only for one or two seconds but to the two of you seemed like minutes. He opened his eyes at the same time you opened yours and he swears that he felt an electric shock run down his body as his pupils connected with yours. Your breaths were mixing with one another, because Eddie was still in your space, noses almost touching.

He pulled away from you, causing you to exhale a deep sigh you didn’t know you were holding in, and he dropped his hand from your cheek. He ignored the lingering burning sensation that was left on his palm as he gazed at you once again, a soft smile spreading on his lips.

“You okay?” He asked you and you could only nod. He chuckled at your reaction and scooted closer, now knees touching. “Alright, your turn.”

Fuck, that made all of your consciousness return to you in one big slap. It was your turn to kiss him. But you could do it right? It was just a peck, just a quick peck. You could do that, it was something fast, just like he did to you. You couldn’t feel your fingers as you raised your hand up to cup his left cheek. You scrunched your eyes closed and leaned in, quick, pulling him as well, but you felt him fight against your grip and you opened your eyes to see him squinting at you.

“What–”

“Slower. If you come at me that fast you are gonna knock our teeth out Angel. Just go slow, no need to be quick.” And there was a part of him that just said that to be able to be in this moment for a little longer. You felt embarrassed at his scolding and you wanted to pull away, feeling completely pathetic and childish for your actions. You took a deep breath in again as you continued to lean in, but this time slower, pulling him towards you in the same manner, gentler and he was content with that.

You closed your eyes when your lips brushed his, and he kept them open just before you pressed your lips to his to look at your face. You weren’t scrunching your eyebrows, or grimacing in pain or discomfort, so he knew you were okay right now. He closed his eyes after a second and you just wanted to stay there. Your lips on his, as your palm rested on his cheek, your nails wanting to dig in his flesh to pull him even closer.

You didn’t know if this would feel like this with every man you would kiss later on, you hoped it did. You hoped this wasn’t just happening with Eddie, because he is just a friend. That’s all he was. A friend helping another friend.

You pulled away after another second, dropping your hand from his face and this time you didn’t gaze towards your lap again. You kept staring at his face, waiting for his eyes to open, your chest now burning for the next move.

His brown eyes connected with yours again, and he smiled reassuringly at you, as if telling you that you were doing good, that everything was fine, and that you were safe with him at this very moment. You took a deep breath in, giving him a small smile in return, feeling your cheeks aching thanks to the amount of blood that is pooled there.

“Alright… Next is the tricky part. I’m going to move my lips against yours this time. When I kiss your top lip, you kiss my bottom lip, and then the other way around.” You know how kissing works, you’re not an idiot. You have done it before just the way he describes it, but the question always lingered if you were any good at it. If you were too pushy, or too soft, or too slow, or too quick.

You took a deep breath in to brace yourself, and exhaled, giving him a nod for him to continue. Now, Eddie was almost sweating. He didn’t want to feel that way towards you, but he was still a man, and you were beautiful. A very beautiful woman. So of course his body will react, he just has to remind himself that you are just a friend and that you need help.

And he is just helping.

He raised both of his hands up this time and your eyes almost went wide when he cupped your face in between them, getting a sense of feeling trapped but in a good way. The coldness of his rings and the warmth of his palms filled you with a sense of peace. You felt safe. You started hearing a buzz in your ears, knowing it was the intense flow of blood that was going all over your body, as the anxiety in your stomach was almost ripping its way out, wanting to break your skin, or wanting to crawl up into your throat.

“Lean in with me sweetheart.” He commanded and your eyes were burning, your hands moving towards his knees again, trembling fingers finding the skin in the rips of them, your breathing hitching as you both moved towards one another, his fingers softly getting in between your hair, palms on your cheeks still and you closed your eyes.

He took a gulp, closing his eyes right after you, feeling your nails digging into the skin of his knees, softly scratching at him, almost desperately and he didn’t know if you were eager or nervous, but you were leaning in, and that was a good enough sign for him to press his lips against yours again, this time, with more pressure than before.

Your heart soared, beating wildly but not because of complete nervousness or because you wanted to run away from it, but because you were content. Content because you weren’t sweating out of a panic, content because you didn’t feel like fainting, content because the dizziness you were feeling was because of the rush, the adrenaline, the excitement of it all.

His lips finally moved on yours, and you let your instincts kiss him back, following his lead. He was being gentle, slow, lips between lips and the smacking of them being heard all over the apartment. Your fingers were gripping on his knees as if your life depended on it, to keep you grounded to earth. There was a part of your brain that was telling you that friends shouldn’t do this, that friends do not kiss each other, not even for practice.

But maybe those thoughts were wrong, because here you were, and Eddie’s self control was slipping. He wanted to move to the next step, but he wanted to properly warn you, he really wanted to, but with the way you were touching him, and the way you were tenderly moving your lips with his, was slowly but surely making him lose his composure of being a good friend.

He had to be quick then, because you seemed into it, and if you stopped you might become nervous again and it will take more time for you to prepare yourself. He kept moving his lips on yours, your heads moving from side to side and you felt like you were being kissed like they do in the movies. Romantical and gentle. But something was slowly snapping inside of you, something that was clawing its way back in your throat.

More. You wanted more.

He pulled away but his hands were kept in place, his lips remained over yours as the heavy breathing of each other mixed in between you both. You opened your eyes to meet his, and he saw the hazy look in your eyes, the same look he must be having right now, and you might not even know how you are looking at him, but he knows how he is looking at you. And it was different, different than before. Way different.

“I’m gonna go further now, stop me if you’re uncomfortable.” Before you could even formulate any sentence, think of anything at all, his lips crashed against yours, this time, more forcefully than before, and it shot another feeling inside of you. It was something you didn’t experience before, something that made you magnetized to him, and you cannot pinpoint what name to give it.

You moved your lips against his, following his movements, and your eyebrows shot up in surprise when you felt his tongue brush against your lower lip, gently, asking for entrance. This was the part where your inexperience might show, and you didn’t want to disappoint him, not when he was making you feel like this, not when he was the first person to kiss you like this.

You felt him rub your right cheek gently with his thumb, trying to soothe you down, telling you that you can still stop him. But you wanted anything but that. So despite your guts trying to make you bend over in pain, despite your brain throwing red signs all over to make you run away, and despite your heart beating so fast you were sure he would be able to hear it, you slowly opened your mouth, letting him in.

And he was so grateful for it.

His tongue slowly sneaked in between your lips, meeting with your nervous tongue. He moved, gentle and slow, small swirls which you danced with him harmoniously. He let out a huff of breath through his nose, trying to swallow a grunt because your hands had gone up to grip onto his thighs now, pulling yourself closer to him, and deeper into the kiss.

You were a good kisser, even in your nervousness, even if you told him you didn’t know if you were even doing it right, you smashed all of that in one second. One of his hands went deeper into your scalp, running his fingers through your hair as he felt the temperature of the room start to rise up. Your tongue was magical on him, so tender and delicate, yet he could hear the soft little moans that vibrated in your throat at every harsh movement he did on you. He could feel his pants starting to strain, and he cursed himself for being so easy to rile up, or maybe cursing at himself for wanting to–

The door opening caught both of your attention, your eyes widening as you both pulled away as quickly as you could. Panting heavily as you looked at one another, not even knowing for how long you have been making out with each other. It felt like seconds, but probably minutes had passed.

“Well, shit, did we interrupt something?” Billy asks with Steve standing next to him with a bag over his shoulder. Your whole body turned red and you squealed as you hid your face in your hands, wishing for the earth to swallow you whole. They saw you. They saw you kissing Eddie. Your friend. Oh god, what will they think? You thought you were an idiot, a very big idiot.

“I uh–” Eddie was at a loss of words and he looked at his friends. He knew you were feeling utterly embarrassed at this moment, so he knew he had to ease the situation up a bit. “We were practicing kissing.”

And that made you even more embarrassed, your head shooting up to smack Eddie on the arm. Why would he tell them that?! Now they know you have no experience in that department and that Eddie was helping you gain confidence in it. Great. You shook your head, becoming more overwhelmed each second that passed.

“No need to hit me! You are a good kisser, despite what you thought.” Eddie brushed his arm as Billy and Steve walked over to the two of you. You groaned into your hands as you felt the heat of your face transfer onto your palms, and your guts were turning, the feeling of nausea slowly filling your stomach.

“Well, I bet it went better than with Harrington over here.” Billy glared at his friend as Steve blushed all over and pointed at you.

“Dude, she doesn’t need to know about that–”

“Actually…” Eddie begins with an innocent dimpled smile on his face and Steve became red in anger, ready to start going at his best friends but a giggle was heard in the room and they all turned to you.

You were laughing into your hands, and the situation that had mortified you now was making you laugh because of their bantering. They weren’t judging you, not you, nor Eddie because they had been through it. They helped each other out with things that were either weird or too bizarre, yet they did it because they’re friends.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh.” You say, as you raise your head up again, locking eyes with Eddie who had a playful glint in them and both of you laughed with each other, or at each other, you didn’t know, but just having this moment with him felt nice, it felt as if nothing had changed. No awkwardness, no weirdness, nothing that makes you feel uncomfortable, or him for that matter.

He was still Eddie, and you were still you.

“Alright, hang on, I have a question.” Steve suddenly says, putting the bag with clothes down. He was still sweaty from work, his hair back with a small half ponytail. Eddie and you stopped laughing and looked at Steve to keep talking. “My question is, are you fine with kissing someone you trust, or are you fine with kissing men in general?” Your smile dropped at that, the thought being processed in your head.

You didn’t even think about that. What if kissing Eddie was easy, or kind of easy, because you trusted him? What if you were able to just because you can confide that part of yourself to him, because he is your friend? Will that happen with the men you meet?

“What Steve is trying to say is that when you go on a date, you don’t trust each other on the first one, but you might kiss, maybe something else.” He said with a wiggle of his eyebrows, earning a glare from Eddie’s part, and you gazed away from that dirty joke.

Steve stood there for a second, thinking and then he took out his phone to open his music player and choose a song from there. ‘Stereo Love’ started sounding from the speakers and you winced at the nostalgia of the song, Eddie chuckling at it and Billy simply rolling his eyes. Steve puts the phone on the coffee table and urges you to get up from the couch.

“Come on, let’s try something.” And you gave Eddie a confused look before doing as Steve says, following him to the middle of the living room as Billy took your place on the couch, dropping himself on it and grunting in relief. Eddie’s eyes were focused on you as you stood in front of Steve.

“Harrington, what are you–” Eddie tried to talk but he was stopped by one look from Steve. His chest was not liking where this was going but he remained quiet as Steve started swaying side to side.

“Okay, so, I imagine that you go to clubs, and guys approach you, right?” He asks and you look down, playing with your fingers as you talk back to him.

“The girls always pushed them away before they could talk to me.” You reply and Steve only scoffs at that and shakes his head. He dances all around you, on your side, behind you, on the other side, as he talks.

“Well, now you will let them talk to you. He is a complete stranger, just coming right up, dancing, and introducing himself.” He stops right in front of you, with a smirk to his face and your eyes slightly widened as his friendly expressions were exchanged by sultry ones. “Do you like this song?”

“Um, a little old but yes, I do.” You responded to him and he just kept the grin to his face as his movements started making him come closer, and closer to you.

“Hi, I’m Steve.” You were already blushing at the roleplaying but he was right, what will happen when you start trying to date someone? You won’t kiss them on the first date? You won’t show your attraction to them? You won’t make a move?

“Hi, I’m Angel.” You reply with a small smile on your lips and Eddie’s eyes widened. You were flirting, and you were flirting with Steve with a pet name he gave you, and you only. He gulped heavily as you swayed closer to him.

“That’s a very pretty name, just as gorgeous as the bearer of it.” He winks at you and you almost lose your willpower at that. With Eddie was different, way different. It was a different type of nervousness, a different type of adrenaline, a different type of excitement. This was just nervousness.

So maybe, Steve was right.

Before you could respond, Steve’s lips crashed onto yours, and Billy was studying your body language. You went rigid, frozen, eyes completely wide at the action. He could see the slight bit of paleness starting to drain your cheeks and he was about to call out Steve to pull away, but then your eyes closed, and your lips moved against his.

You noticed the difference with Eddie’s kiss. With Eddie’s, your mind shut off, didn’t even think about anything else and just let yourself feel, feel him, feel his lips on yours, his skin on yours. And now, Steve’s, you were conscious of how your lips were moving, and wondering if you were causing an impression or not.

Steve pulled away after a few seconds to study your face and do a whole check over, before cheering with delight and clapping for you with pride.

“You kissed me back, you didn’t faint, you flirted with me… Yep, you’re cured honey!” Steve says excitedly and you couldn’t help but feel excited with him. It was a big step, a huge change in your life. Even if the nerves were still there, the anxiety was still deep in your belly, and the thoughts sometimes appeared in your head to speak horrible things to you, you finally didn’t let them control your body.

You were finally cracking your shell open.

And as you cheered, you didn’t notice the pair of brown eyes that were looking at you.

“Munson… You’re going to break the cushion.” Billy says, without even looking at Eddie and the metal head looked down at the cushion of the couch, seeing his fist gripping tightly onto it, almost ripping through the fabric, his knuckles a bright shade of white from how hard he was clenching them, rings digging into his fingers. He also noticed the tense movements on his jaw and he realized that he had been clenching it tightly shut since Steve pressed his lips on yours.

Your lips that had his minutes before. Your tongue that danced with him, your body that touched him, his hands that were on you, your body heat invading his, and his jagged breaths invading your mouth. He had you first.

You were his, first.

You turned to look at Eddie, with a smile on your face and he tried to return the smile to you, fighting the uncomfortable feeling that was happening in his belly, trying to push away all the negative thoughts, but then he remembered the look in your eyes just before he leaned in to kiss you again. He was looking at you in the exact same way, and hope rose in his chest, because the eyes you were looking at him with, were full of lust.

And you might not even know or realize you were looking at him like that. You probably never once felt lustful towards someone. You probably never had that need of wanting someone so badly that you might explode.

But Eddie, Eddie was feeling it right now. He was feeling it alright, and had been feeling it ever since he saw you in that tight purple dress. He felt it when you smiled at him for the first time on video camera. He felt it when you introduced him to your favorite pizza. He felt it when you beat him up in Mario Kart. He felt it when you had called him beautiful. And now, he felt it when he finally had a taste of you.

Oh how he wanted you.

Eddie really, absolutely, desperately wanted you.

End of part 4

A/N: I really do hope you all enjoyed this chapter, your comments always make me happy... we can all feel the tension building, can't we? Just a peek, next chapter will be spicy.

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